Prologue

In the time after the fall of the Tryvak Dynasty, and before the birth of Nuvedor, existed a savage age where tyranny ruled the galaxy. The magic of the new universe was still accessible to a select few mages, persecuted into extinction. A warrior rose from the ranks of the oppressed and stood against injustice. This is his story.

1

Was there something in the underbrush? Nolan’s concerned eyes snapped in the direction of the sound. The crack of a twig under a heavy paw, perhaps?

Nolan froze in his tracks. The crisp air of the forest fogged his breath. He could hear his heart pulse. There was an eerie stillness about the woods. Nolan put a hand on Elijah’s shoulder, stopping him before he could take another step.

The hunters had become the hunted.

Nolan’s blue eyes surveyed the snow covered landscape—barren trees dusted with powder. A blanket of gray clouds covered the mountain. The minty smell of the forest filled Nolan’s nostrils. He sniffed a few times, trying to pick up the scent of the beast. They had been tracking a vygar for a half-mile, but Nolan was beginning to think they had been led into an ambush.

Vygars were cunning creatures. Highly intelligent. Six-hundred pounds of ferocious muscle. They were like sabertooth tigers crossed with ankylosaurs. They had scaly body armor on their backs, with spikes and boney plates. Claws as sharp as razors that could slice through flesh and bone with the ease of a plasma sword. Like a chameleon, their skin could change color to match their surroundings. You could look right at one and almost not see it until it moved. It made them incredibly effective predators. With the visual acuity of a hawk, nothing escaped their gaze. It was the last thing in the world you wanted hunting you.

Despite their thick, sinewy muscle, vygars were tender and tasty. One beast could feed a family for half the winter. But they had been encroaching on Nolan’s village with greater frequency. One had recently mauled a small child, dragging the Legione into the forest for a meal. The incident had left the village on edge, and the family devastated. Hunters had descended upon the forest looking to collect the bounty offered if the offending vygar was killed. The one who had taken the boy was missing an ear, according to Philibus—but Philibus was nearsighted, and prone to indulge in the occasional libation, or two, or ten. Still, he was the only witness to the horrid event.

Nolan raised his crossbow into the firing position. He had a quiver of enchanted arrows which packed a punch that could rival any plasma rifle. His spell sword was sharp and deadly, and Nolan knew how to wield it.

Natural predators weren’t the only thing you had to worry about when living on Sargol. There were many dangers in colonial life, and settlers learned to live with the elements. Pirates and marauders were common. Rival villages would often raid, attempting to take food, supplies, or reluctant concubines. In Nolan’s 18 years, he had defended his village on many occasions. But the biggest fight lay ahead of him.

“I don’t see anything,” Elijah whispered.

“Be still,” Nolan hissed, his intense eyes glued to the forest. He peered through his shoulder length brown hair which exposed a sliver of his square jaw and stubbled face.

The peace and serenity of the woods only lasted another brief moment, then it erupted into chaos.

The guttural roar of a vygar filled the air.

The beast leapt from behind. Nolan spun around to face the creature. A flash of sharp fangs and claws were all he could see as the heavy beast catapulted toward him. Nolan’s heart pounded in his chest. Despite the cold, he felt his skin mist over with sweat.

The beast launched through the air, slashing his claws. It’s soulless eyes glimmered.

Nolan aimed his crossbow at the monster’s skull and squeezed the trigger. An enchanted arrow launched from the track, propelled by the taut string. It took flight, turning into a blazing blue energy bolt. It slammed into the creature’s face, vaporizing it’s skull. The massive carcass crashed to the ground beside Nolan with a thud, splattering the snow with crimson blood. Steam rose from the beast’s gaping wound. The creature’s lungs gurgled as the last breath escaped its chest.

There was no time to relax or rejoice in surviving the encounter. Three more vygars attacked, seemingly coming out of nowhere.

More fangs and ferocious snarls. Brilliant white teeth and obsidian black claws. Spine chilling snarls.

Nolan reached in his quiver and drew another arrow. He loaded it into the track and gripped the string. He put his foot into the stirrup and pressed it against the ground as he cocked the string back until it latched. He had the process down—he had done it thousands of times before. He moved as fast as humanly possible. But it still took a long time, especially when a vygar was charging. Nolan felt like it was taking forever. The cold had numbed his fingers, making him feel clumsy.

The beast vaulted toward him, eyeing its next meal.

Nolan swung the weapon up, trying to take aim. But he wasn’t fast enough. The beast was almost on top of him.

Elijah had a tough choice to make. His crossbow was loaded and ready to fire. He could take aim at the vygar that was charging him, or he could shoot the one about to maul his best friend.

2

The dreadnought brought nothing but misfortune. It lumbered through the inky blackness of space toward the remote planet of Sargol on a deadly mission.

The warship was a behemoth. Heavily fortified and virtually indestructible. It looked like it had been forged by hand from iron and steel during the Middle Ages. It was bulky and imposing. It’s composite armor hull was the strongest ever created. At over 300 meters in length, it was a floating fortress the size of a small city. Roughly 10,000 lived and worked aboard the vessel. Spell cannons lined the port and starboard sides. The dreadnought was a hulking tank, capable of interstellar travel.

The grand civilization of the Tryvak Dynasty had long since been destroyed—reduced to ashes in an epic conflict that nearly destroyed all humanity. The technology of the old world became a distant dream. The history of the galaxy passed from generation to generation through lore and legend. Fluid and evolving. A dark age fell over the cosmos. Evil flourished. Magic ruled the day. Truth gave way to myth, propaganda, and fear mongering. One thing was for certain—those who controlled the war machines controlled the galaxy.

Two factions emerged, vying for control of the galaxy. The Republic of Xenedor and the Imperial Realm, lead by the Dark Lord, Valdovar.

Bands of humans clung to life in small colonies, scattered throughout the expanse—seeded eons ago in an attempt to preserve humanity. The settlements were at various stages of development, some little more than primitive outposts, while others achieved industrialization. One by one, the self proclaimed Emperor Valdovar was conquering them.

The Dark Lord stood in the CIC of the dreadnought, surveying the unsuspecting planet of Sargol—the image was plastered on the display screen. Dressed in ornate battle armor, with long dark hair, red eyes, and pale skin, Valdovar was as fierce as any beast. Years of dark magic had consumed him, transforming him into a demon-like figure. He was once human, but his soul was now as black as tar.

“If I may be so bold, Lord Valdovar, Sargol is not worth your time,” Arkma, the executive officer, stammered. “There is nothing there. A few settlements.”

Valdovar glared at him.

Arkma cowered under Valdovar’s fierce gaze, rethinking his position. “You’re right. We shall leave no stone unturned.”

Valdovar was looking for something. Searching the galaxy for it. He was going to shake every proverbial tree until he found it. No settlement was too small. No clue to insignificant.

Arkma gave the command to the rest of the crew, “Prepare for a ground assault.”

Valdovar marched out of the CIC and weaved his way through the labyrinth of corridors.

Arkma followed after him. It was clear that Arkma preferred the comfort and security of the dreadnought. He had no love for battle. Valdovar seemed to relish in it. He may have been a tyrant, but Valdovar led from the front. He was fearless, and with good reason.

The dreadnought was alive with activity. Sailors scurried about, racing down the corridors, climbing up and down the ladderwells, preparing for battle. The constant drone of the engines rumbled through the ship. On the flight deck, an array of dropships waited to ferry troops down to the surface. Platoons of armor clad Imperial Soturi—the warrior elite—scurried into formation and loaded aboard the transports. They were bulky, armor plated vehicles, with spell cannons mounted on sub-wing pylons. Heavy steel fortresses—part magic, part machine. The Soturi climbed the ramps and took their seats in the cargo bays. Each dropship held 16 troops, plus a copilot and pilot.

Pilots flipped switches and pressed buttons. Gages and displays came to life. Engines spun up. The dropships, as did most all space vehicles, harnessed the power of Vorcite crystals. They channeled the mystical energy that flowed through the universe and served to focus and amplify it. The crystals were rare, and in high demand.

Blue flame spit from the thrusters, and the high-pitched whine of the engines filled the flight deck. Flight crews scurried about the deck, attending to the devastating assault vehicles.

Valdovar loaded into the Royal dropship along with a cadre of elite Praetorian guards. They were armed with spell guns and swords. Perched on Valdovar’s shoulder was his ever faithful companion, Takaar—a miniature Lyra Dragon, no larger than a parrot. Despite its small stature it could still breathe fire, and its talons were razor-sharp. It wasn’t to be trifled with.

The Praetorian guards buckled into their safety harnesses. Valdovar sat in the copilot’s seat. The pilot flicked switches and pressed buttons, powering up the craft. He went through a series of preflight checks, then throttled up the engines and lifted from the deck. The armored beast glided forward crossing the threshold of the flight deck into space. A swarm of dropships followed. They were going to bring death and destruction to Sargol.

3

The vygar leapt through the air about to shred Nolan with its wicked claws. Nolan could feel the rumble of the beast’s snarls vibrating through his chest.

Elijah whipped his crossbow around, taking aim at the creature. He squeezed the trigger and let an arrow fly. It blazed through the air slamming into the torso of the beast. The magical projectile burned a hole through the vicious animal.

The vygar tackled Nolan to the ground, but the beast was dead on impact. Still, the weight of a 600 pound vygar was crushing. All of the wind had been knocked from Nolan’s lungs, and he felt like his ribs were going to snap. He heaved the beast aside with all his might. The heavy carcass tumbled away, staining the white snow with blood. Pulverized organs oozed from the creature’s wounds.

Elijah’s choice to save his friend had made him vulnerable. Before he could reload, another vygar tackled him. The beast swiped with unimaginable power, its claws ripping through Elijah’s flesh with ease. Crimson blood blossomed from the wounds, staining his shirt. The creature’s pearly fangs glistened with saliva. The beast snarled, and fog billowed from its mouth. The demon’s horrid breath smacked Elijah in the face like a wet rag. The creature was about to bite into Elijah’s neck and rip out his jugular. Elijah could see the delight in the vygar’s eyes as it anticipated the tasty flesh of man.

Nolan cocked his crossbow and took aim. He squeezed the trigger, sending a blistering arrow through the air. The glowing bolt slammed into the beast, severing its carotid artery. The creature toppled aside, dripping blood over Elijah. A moment’s delay and Elijah would have been shredded.

Nolan could hear the crunch of snow as another vygar barreled toward him from behind. Nolan fumbled for another arrow from his quiver. His panicked hands loaded it into the track and cocked the crossbow. Nolan spun around and brought the weapon into the firing position, taking aim at the approaching beast. Without a second to spare, Nolan squeezed the trigger.

The arrow rocketed into the beast’s sternum, skewering its insides, exiting through the backend. The beast’s momentum carried him forward another few steps, then the vygar tumbled into the snow—a bag of bones. Blood and entrails seeped from the wounds.

That was the last of the creatures, for now.

Nolan raced to his friend and knelt down beside him.

Elijah winced with pain as he tried to sit up. He didn’t get very far before he had to lay back down. “I’m okay. It’s just a scratch,” he said, lightheartedly. Elijah tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace.

The wound was more than just a scratch. The claws had raked across his chest, cutting through his clothing, slicing his muscles down to his rib cage. The white bone was exposed through layers of muscle, fascia, and skin. The sight was enough to make anyone a little queasy.

Nolan put pressure on the wound, trying to stop the bleeding.

“Ow! That hurts!”

“Would you rather bleed to death?”

Elijah grumbled to himself. “Not particularly.”

Nolan kept applying pressure. “You’re not going to like this. I need to disinfect the wound.” Nolan reached in his pack for a flask. He opened the lid and poured the alcohol into the wounds.

Elijah grimaced with pain. He tried to stifle a groan.

Nolan kept a first-aid kit in his backpack. He had needles, thread, gauze pads, and a tube of healing ointment that had been made by an old sorcerer. The tube was almost empty, and the sorcerer had long since perished. Nolan hoped it was going to be enough to cover Elijah’s wounds.

Nolan slathered the gel over the gashes in Elijah’s chest. The creature had raked him under the armpit and across his lower pectoral. Nolan squeezed last drops out of the tube and was barely able to cover the wound. He took a needle and thread and began to stitch up the gaping chasms. “Try to think happy thoughts.”

Nolan pierced the needle through Elijah’s flesh, passing it through the gnarled gash, puncturing the opposite flap of skin and drawing the two together.

Elijah winced. “Happy thoughts aren’t quite cutting it.”

“The gel should numb it a bit.”

“Well it’s not numbing it enough!”

“Just think, when we get back to town, you’re going to be a hero.”

“I don’t feel like a hero,” Elijah groaned.

“You saved my life.”

“That’s only because I didn’t want to walk back through the forest alone,” Elijah said, dryly.

“Maybe Jessica will feel sorry for you. She’ll tend to your wounds.”

“Now that would make it all worthwhile.” Elijah’s eyes lit up. He was clearly a man smitten. Jessica was a cute redhead with creamy skin and green eyes. Elijah had been pining away for her for what felt like an eternity. Though he seemed to be having a problem gaining her attention.

Nolan diligently sutured Elijah’s wounds. He worked with the skill and precision of a trained surgeon. This wasn’t the first time he had dressed wounds in the field, and it wasn’t going to be the last. On a remote planet like Sargol, far from civilization, you learned to fend for yourself. But even the civilized world wasn’t what it used to be. Sorcerers and mages replaced traditional doctors for more serious ailments. Magic could sometimes cure what medicine could not. But those who wielded magic were becoming harder to find.

Nolan tied off the last stitch. “There. Good as new.”

Elijah gave him a sideways glance. “Not quite new. Slightly used. Scratched and dented.” He started to chuckle, but it hurt too much, and his grin faded to a grimace.

“Shhhh!” Nolan hissed. “Don’t move,” he whispered as his eyes focused on a vygar. The beast was staring them down, not more than 10 yards away.

Its heavy breath rumbled, and fog billowed from its nostrils in the crisp air.

Nolan’s eyes flicked to the side, looking for his crossbow. It was just out of reach, and unloaded. There was no way to grab it and load it in time. The beast would be upon him as soon as he made a move. Perhaps sooner.

4

Nolan reached down with caution and grabbed the hilt of his sword, ready to pull it from its scabbard. The deadly eyes of the vygar locked into Nolan’s. Ever so gently, he eased the sword from the scabbard.

The beast sunk down on its haunches like it was going to spring forward. Nolan locked eyes with the demon, staring him down. He prepared for the attack. But instead of lunging forward, the beast darted to the side and disappeared into the wilderness.

Nolan breathed a sigh of relief. His elevated heartbeat began to slow.

“I’ve never seen one back down like that before,” Elijah said.

Nolan shrugged and sheathed his sword. “Maybe he saw what happened to his comrades and thought better of it.”

“I didn’t think they were that smart.”

“Don’t underestimate them.” Nolan’s cautious eyes kept scanning the forest, making sure the beast didn’t return. It wouldn’t be unlike a vygar to return with the rest of the pack.

“What are we gonna do with all this meat?” Elijah asked. Even field dressed, the vygars weighed upwards of 400 pounds each. Far too much to haul back to the village, especially with Elijah’s weakened condition.

“I’ll field dress them. We can leave them here. I’ll come back to get them later. The snow will keep the meat from spoiling. If I don’t dress them, they’ll freeze, making it harder later.”

Elijah tried to sit up, but the pain stopped him.

“Just take it easy. Save your strength for the journey home.” Nolan stood up and moved to one of the fallen animals.

He drew his hunting knife from his belt. The razor-sharp blade glimmered. The steel was 7 inches long, with serrations on the spine. Nolan knelt down beside the creature, and with the skill of a surgeon, sliced its belly from groin to sternum, carving through the peritoneal cavity. Nolan was careful not to rupture the stomach or intestines. The smell was bad enough as it was. Severing organs, spilling bile and digestive juices, would sully the tenderloins.

Steam wafted from the warm insides. Nolan sliced through the sternum, prying open the rib cage. He severed the animal’s trachea, then pulled the entire mass of organs out of the carcass in one swoop, all the way down to the groin. The carcass was now 100 pounds lighter. But even still, the vygar was too heavy for Nolan to hoist off the ground on his own.

“You can’t just leave them on the ground. Varmints and bugs will get after them,” Elijah cautioned. “There will be nothing left by the time you return.”

“Well, I was kind of thinking there would be two of us to do the job.”

Elijah shrugged. “Sorry.”

“If I had some enchanted rope, I bet I could hoist this vygar up,” Nolan surmised.

“Good luck finding any of that around here.”

“I should have bought some when I had the chance. Who knows the next time we will see a trade ship.”

Nolan surveyed the fallen carcasses. It was an enormous amount of meat. Enough to feed multiple families. Life on the frontier was difficult, and nothing was ever allowed to go to waste. You never knew when something was going to affect the harvest, or when the hunt would come up empty-handed.

Nolan continued to field dress the rest of the animals. By the time he was finished, he was covered in blood. He wiped his hands on his pants legs. Blood crusted underneath his fingernails and in the grooves of his hands. His handmade clothes were stained and it looked like he had been in a vicious battle.

Nolan scoured the area for the enchanted arrows. He found all but one and returned them to their quiver. They were the kind of things that you didn’t leave lying around in the snow. They were good for more than one use, unless they were broken, or lost.

Nolan marched back to Elijah. “Do you think you can stand?

Elijah nodded.

Nolan crouched down and slung Elijah’s arm over his shoulder, helping him to his feet.

Elijah grimaced with pain. He was a little unsteady on his feet. “I’m okay,” he said, reassuring Nolan.

“I’ll get Jayden and Kai to return with me. We’ll bring a sled and haul the vygars back,” Nolan said.

“They’re not going to do that for free.”

“There’s more than enough meat to go around. I’m sure that will be payment enough.“

“These are going to be good eating,” Elijah said, mustering a grin.

“I’m sure that’s what they thought about us.” Nolan paused a moment. “You saved my life. I owe you one.“

“I think we’re even,” Elijah said. “Besides, it would be pretty boring around here without you.”

Nolan helped Elijah march back down the mountainside toward the valley. They trudged through the snow, their feet sinking deep into the powder. The terrain was rugged, and it wasn’t long before the two of them were drenched in sweat, despite the cold.

“You give anymore thought to my idea?” Elijah asked.

“I’ve thought about it.”

“And?”

Nolan shrugged.

“I mean, you don’t want to stay around here forever, do you?”

Nolan shrugged again.

“Don’t you wonder what’s out there? I mean, you want to see the galaxy, don’t you?”

Nolan was silent a moment. “Yeah, I guess. But it’s not that bad here. There are worse places. My family is here. My friends are here.”

“Lila is here,” Elijah said, teasing.

“Shut up.”

“Oh, come on. She’s got you wrapped around her little finger.”

Nolan shrugged it off. “No she doesn’t.”

“Please.”

Nolan shot him a look. “I’m just saying, when you think about it, we’ve got a good life here. If we run off and join the Republic Navy, there are no guarantees.”

“But don’t you worry about the Empire? Valdovar is a tyrant. They say he’s not even human anymore. They say he can’t be killed.”

“All the more reason not to stand against him,” Nolan cautioned. “Besides we are far too small a colony to draw his interest.”

“You’re naïve if you think we will stay out of the war forever.”

Nolan shrugged. “I guess I’m naive.”

5

“When are you going to tell him?” Isabella asked. She was a beautiful woman in her mid 40s. Light eyes and sandy blonde hair. Frontier life had given her more fine lines than she deserved for her age. She stood in the kitchen preparing dinner.

“Soon,” Logan replied. He had dark hair and a trimmed beard. He was a hard man, but fair. Broad shouldered and carved of stone. He was as handy with the sword as he was with the plow. Though, at this stage in his life, he preferred the plow.

“It’s his 18th birthday. If not now, when?”

Logan grimaced, and his eyes filled with conflict.

“He deserves to know the truth.”

“I know. I promise, I’ll tell him everything soon.” Logan took a heavy breath.

Isabella could see Logan was deeply troubled. She moved to his side and put a comforting hand on her husband’s shoulder. “I’m as concerned as you are. He’s bound to have some resentment.”

“How would you feel?”

Isabella paused for a moment. “Angry, I suppose?” She sighed. “But he’s a smart boy. He will understand.”

“For the last 18 years I have lived and breathed that child.”

Isabella smiled. “Nolan knows you love him. He knows what sacrifices you’ve made for this family. He idolizes you. You have the kind of relationship that every father wants to have with his son.”

“I don’t want that to change.”

“It never will,” she reassured him. “Now put a smile on your face. It is a happy day.”

Logan grinned, flashing a brilliant smile. “Indeed it is.” But Logan’s smile soon faded. His face tensed, and worry filled his eyes.

Isabella gazed at him, confused. “What is it?”

Logan listened intensely, but Isabella didn’t hear a thing. She watched as he stormed toward the door, grabbing his sword that leaned against the wall. He unsheathed it, and pushed the door open. As he did, Logan called back to Isabella, “Get in the cellar. Hide, and don’t come out.”

“What is it?” she asked, but Logan had already stormed outside.

Within a few seconds, Isabella could finally hear the dreaded rumble of several aerial vehicles approaching.

Isabella grabbed a knife from the kitchen, then pulled back the rug that exposed a hatch that led down to the cellar. She pulled open the hatch and climbed down the ladder a few steps. She pulled the flap of the rug back over the top of the hatch so that it would, hopefully, conceal the door in the floor when she pulled it closed.

In the street, Logan joined the makeshift militia that was forming in response to the coming invaders. They were armed with swords and shields, and a few had spelled guns—but that kind of firepower was quite rare. The village was comprised of several hundred families. Prefabricated modular structures made up the homes in the center of the village—part of the original supplies when the outpost was seeded. As it expanded over the years, the settlers built adobe type structures. The original power generator of the outpost still functioned, and the village was one of the few small settlements that had the luxury. There was no telling how much longer the fuel-cell would last, and with the expansion, the grid was getting pretty taxed. It was several hundred years old.

Logan, and the militia, had to defend their village on many occasions before, but they had faced nothing like the coming invasion force. The armored dropships descended through the clouds, and there was a growing sense of dread among the militia. The mere sight of the aerial vehicles was enough to strike fear into the hearts of all who saw them.

As the spell cannons pummeled the village, the devastation was overwhelming. The villagers didn’t have the firepower to match. Structures were incinerated with a single blast. Brilliant explosions tore apart the buildings, spewing shrapnel and debris. Villagers shrieked with terror, scattering in all directions.

The ground shook beneath Logan’s feet with each blast. He could hear the horrid cries of the wounded. The few with spell guns returned fire, but the weaponry wasn’t powerful enough to damage the hulking gunships.

Logan and the other members of the militia took cover as best they could. The gunships were softening up their targets before they landed. Logan clenched his jaw and anger filled his face. His cheeks grew red, and the veins in his neck pulsed. He felt helpless as the merciless onslaught continued.

The village was a small outpost on the edge of the former Federation—utterly meaningless to either the Imperial Realm or the Republic of Xevelor. Why the Empire would bother invading was beyond Logan’s comprehension.

6

Nolan and Elijah were several hundred yards from their village when they saw the dropships descend. The village militia had gathered together, preparing to resist the invaders. Spell cannons blasted from the dropships. Blistering bolts impacted the ground, launching geysers of dirt and debris, incinerating flesh and bone.

Nolan’s face filled with rage. He and Elijah both sprinted toward the action. Elijah pushed aside his discomfort as a surge of adrenaline washed through his body.

Nolan drew an arrow from his quiver and loaded it into his crossbow. The weapon was no match for the awesome power of the Imperial Soturi, but Nolan wasn’t about to sit back and do nothing.

The dropships landed. Ramps lowered, and hordes of Soturi spilled out the vehicles. Most carried swords, but there was typically one spell rifleman per platoon.

Spell rifles were in short supply, and they were of limited use. The magic crystals that enabled them to fire would be depleted quickly in a combat situation. The same for the massive spell cannons on the dropships. They were good for about a dozen shots.

The horde of Soturi let out an ominous war cry as they stormed the village. Swords clanked and clattered as they engaged the militia. Energy bolts streaked across the terrain, eviscerating the villagers. It was pure chaos. Swords hacked and slashed. Limbs were severed. Blood spurted from stumps, splattering the white snow. The villagers fought valiantly, but the Soturi were overwhelming.

Nolan fell to the ground behind a berm and took aim at one of the Soturi. His finger squeezed the trigger. The arrow launched from the track, blazing through the air. It smashed into the invader, penetrating his armor. The warrior clattered to the ground. One down, hundreds more to go.

The incident had drawn the attention of the other Soturi, and a flurry of energy bolts blasted in Nolan’s direction. Some of them shot over his head, while others impacted the berm.

Nolan grabbed another arrow from his quiver. He put it into the track, then rolled onto his back, flattening himself against the berm. He put his foot into the stirrup and cocked the crossbow until it latched. It was an awkward maneuver, but standing up to cock the crossbow would have made him an easy target. He angled the bow over the berm again and took aim at another invader. The arrow blazed across the battlefield, piercing the chest plate of another warrior, leaving a shell of armor on the ground.

Elijah tried to load his crossbow, but was having difficulties. He lacked the strength. Pulling the taught string back was difficult with his wounds, but he muscled through it. In the process he tore the sutures, and blood oozed from the incisions.

The company of Soturi were making short work of the resistance. Nolan could hear the moans and wails of his people as they were brutally stabbed and slashed. The sound of swords piercing flesh, and guts spilling onto the ground, filled the air.

Nolan kept firing at the invaders and ducking behind the berm to evade their return blasts. Another squad of Soturi advanced towards Nolan’s position. He reached into his quiver and loaded his last enchanted arrow into the crossbow. He used the same awkward maneuver to cock the weapon.

Elijah did the same.

They both took aim over the berm and fired their last shots at the oncoming squad. Their aim was dead solid perfect. Two more Soturi fell to the snow. Two kept approaching.

“What are we supposed to do now?” Elijah asked, realizing they were both out of arrows.

Nolan shrugged. “I don’t know. Fight until we die?”

Elijah flashed a grim smile. “Sounds good to me.”

Nolan pushed off the ground and charged over the berm, drawing his sword. It glowed blue from the magic contained within the blade. Nolan let out an angry war cry as he ran toward the Soturi. He had fought plenty of barbarians and pirates, but never trained warriors. Never Imperial Soturi. They had a reputation of being ruthless killers. Fearless and devoted. They would never back down. They would never surrender. They would fight until death. The Soturi had no choice.

Nolan didn’t care. Rage consumed him. Adrenaline coursed through his veins. Every nerve in his body tingled with energy. His heart pounded in his chest. Everything he knew and loved was in that village. His parents, his friends, and Lila. He was willing to sacrifice everything to protect them.

Nolan had taken out the riflemen in the approaching squad with his arrows. The two Soturi that charged toward him carried only swords. Nolan ran as fast as he could and swung his blade with all his might. It smashed against the warrior’s sword, showering a few sparks. The clamor of metal echoed throughout the valley.

Elijah engaged the other Imperial Knight, hacking and slashing. Each heft of his sword caused searing pain in his chest from his previous wounds. His attacks were weak, and he lacked his usual speed. But Elijah fought with everything he had. If their village was going to be wiped from the galaxy, he and Nolan were going to take as many of these Imperial Soturi with them as possible.

7

Nolan heaved the heavy spell sword, clashing against the enemy’s broadsword. The impact rattled his hands. He felt the bone jarring sensation all the way up his arm. The Soturi slashed at Nolan, and he faded back and to the side. The Soturi lunged the point of his blade toward Nolan’s belly. Nolan dodged and parried, then clobbered the Soturi in the head with the pommel of his sword. It didn’t do much good smacking against the Soturi’s heavy helmet.

The warrior slashed his deadly blade.

Nolan whipped his sword around and deflected the blow. The two exchanged strikes, the blades clanking and clamoring.

Nolan heaved for breath, the fight was more tiring than he had anticipated—dodging and defending against the powerful strikes, moving around in the deep snow, throwing his full weight behind each blow.

Nolan ducked as the warrior’s blade swished overhead. Nolan lunged forward, thrusting the point of his blade into the enemy’s belly, between the plates of armor. He put his full weight against the blade, driving it through the invader.

The Soturi tried to pommel strike him, but Nolan grabbed the goon’s gauntlet as the warrior struck down. With a spell sword through his belly, it didn’t take long for the life force to leave the soldier’s body. Nolan withdrew the sword and watched the warrior collapse into the snow.

Nolan turned his attention to Elijah, who was struggling. He’d already been slashed on the arm and thigh. Blood was dripping down his limbs and had dotted the snow.

Nolan charged the Soturi, attempting to intervene. But it was too late. He could only watch as the enemy’s sword sliced through the air, severing Elijah’s head. The blade cut through his cervical spine like it were pudding. Elijah’s skull tumbled through the air, then crashed into the snow. His headless body dropped to its knees, then fell forward, still twitching. Blood poured from Elijah’s severed neck, staining the white powdered ground.

Nolan screamed. A primal roar erupted from his chest. He charged the Soturi, skewering him. Nolan thrust with such force, the tip of his blade pierced the knight’s armor, traveled through his thoracic cavity, and penetrated the outer plate. The warrior crumpled to the ground, steam rising from his wounds.

Nolan’s eyes filled, and tears streamed down his cheek. He dropped to his knees beside the body of his fallen friend. The two had known each other for their entire lives. They had become fast friends at an early age, and were inseparable.

A toxic mix of anger and sadness filled Nolan. It was hard to breathe, and he was visibly shaking. He clenched his jaw and pushed off the ground.

The village was in chaos. Bodies lay strewn about, covered in blood. Most of the militia had been defeated. The Imperial forces were rounding up survivors. They were dragging women from the houses. Their shrill screeches filled the air as they tried to fight off the invaders, but it was no use. The Soturi were killing livestock and setting houses on fire. Amber flames flickered high into the air and glowing embers floated about. Smoke and haze covered the ground like a blanket.

Nolan steeled his resolve. He pushed aside all feelings of sadness and despair. It left room for only vengeance and rage. He charged into the fray, slashing at the invaders. His spell sword possessed unusual strength. He hacked off the arm of a Soturi with one clean blow.

Blood spurted from the stump.

Nolan spun around and skewered another Soturi that had charged him. He kicked the goon in the chest plate, removing him from the sword. The body fell to the snow.

Nolan was quickly surrounded by a squad. Their fierce blades ready to slice him to pieces. Full of fear and adrenaline, Nolan tried to keep them at bay. He spun around, fighting on all sides. He was doing a good job, but it wasn’t enough. He was going to die here, in this moment.

Nolan continued to hack and slash, deflecting blows.

A Soturi lunged from behind, ready to puncture his back with a broadsword. The only thing that saved him was the ominous command of Valdovar. His powerful voice rumbled across the village. “Enough!”

The Soturi withdrew instantly.

Encircled by the Imperial forces, Nolan held his ground. His wide eyes darted around until they fell upon Valdovar. The Dark Lord approached with a menacing gleam in his eyes. Nolan had heard rumors of Valdovar’s appearance, but he never imagined they were true. He had always thought them exaggerations.

Valdovar might well have been a demon summoned from hell. His eyes were pure evil, and the small dragon perched on his shoulder only added to his menacing appearance.

Nolan’s heart pounded. He gripped the hilt of his sword tight, preparing to defend against the tyrant.

Valdovar didn’t seem concerned in the least. He didn’t raise his sword, or take any kind of defensive posture. He just kept strolling toward Nolan.

“The spell sword you wield. Where did you get it?” Valdovar asked.

Nolan said nothing. The rage in his eyes said it all.

“I can make you tell me.”

Nolan clenched his jaw and remained silent.

Valdovar sighed. He had been in this scenario thousands of times before. The result was always the same. He always got what he desired. It was only a matter of time. He asked again, his tone thick with boredom. “Where did you get the sword?”

Nolan wasn’t going to tell him a damn thing. But before he could stop himself, the words slipped from his lips. “I traded for it.”

“And the mage who created it?”

“I don’t know.”

Nolan was telling the truth. He didn’t know who had created the sword. But it had cost him a pretty penny. Spell swords were much sought after weapons, and were in short supply. The strength of the weapon depended upon the sorcerer who created it, his ability, and how much magic he put into it. Some spell swords remained sharp and never dulled. Others contained more power and radiated with energy. They could slice through objects with the strength of a plasma sword, or deflect blasts from spell guns. Some could warn you when danger was near. There was one sword that was rumored to convey invulnerability to its owner. It was the most powerful sword in the galaxy. But it wasn’t created by any normal sorcerer.

“Give me the sword,” Valdovar commanded.

I’ll give you the sword, Nolan thought. Up close and personal.

Valdovar was within striking distance. Nolan attacked, slashing at the tyrant. He moved with lightning speed.

Without a helmet on, Valdovar was vulnerable. Nolan had every intention of severing the demon’s head clean off. But it wasn’t to be.

Takaar launched from Valdovar’s shoulder, taking flight. It was just a precautionary measure because Nolan’s blade stopped before it even got close to Valdovar. It was like some invisible force had stopped the sword and gripped Nolan’s arm. He struggled against the force, the veins in his neck bulging, his cheeks flushing red, his whole body shaking as he tried to fight against the resistance. But it was no use.

With the flick of Valdovar’s wrist, Nolan was flung onto his back, slamming against the snow. The sword fell from his grasp. Like a magnet, it was drawn to Valdovar’s hand.

Nolan’s eyes widened as he watched the sword hurtle through the air, landing perfectly in Valdovar’s palm.

The evil tyrant surveyed the sword, assessing its power. His red eyes scrutinized the blade and the elaborate markings. He moved the sword around, feeling its weight. It was expertly crafted, and well-balanced. The sword had always served Nolan well. But Valdovar seemed thoroughly unimpressed and tossed the weapon aside.

“Shall I terminate this peasant, my Lord?” Commander Xule asked.

Valdovar glowered at Nolan, deciding his fate.

8

“Take him prisoner,” Valdovar said. “Kill the weak, wounded, and old. If they can’t be put to service, then they are of no use to me.”

Commander Xule nodded. He relayed the command, and two Soturi grabbed Nolan by his arms and hoisted him to his feet. They slapped restraints on his wrists. The metal cuffs slammed against the bone, sending a jolt of pain up his forearm. A Soturi shoved him in the back and marched him toward one of the dropships.

The village was in ruins. Several of the structures were engulfed in flames. Black smoke billowed into the sky, mixing with the gray clouds. A dark haze covered the area like an eclipse. The survivors were rounded up and loaded aboard the transports. There were tears and wails of agony—a sea of tortured and distraught faces. Slaughtered bodies lined the snow, staining the ground red. The sight was gut-wrenching.

Nolan’s eyes found the horrible sight of his father’s mutilated Legione among the remains of the slaughtered militia. His stomach twisted in knots. His heart sank, and his throat grew tight. Rivers of tears streamed down his face. He tried to scream but couldn’t make a sound.

Nolan kept scanning the carnage, looking for his mother and Lila, but he found no sign of them. But he did see plenty of familiar faces.

A Soturi forced him to climb the ramp, packing into the cargo bay of a dropship with the other survivors. Once the transport was full, the hatch was sealed, and the massive engines spun up. The craft rumbled and shook as it lifted from the ground. Nolan had never left the planet before. He had never flown in a spacecraft. He had seen them come and go, traveling to the stars, but his life experience was limited to Sargol.

The craft pitched and rolled as it ascended into the clouds. Nolan was rocked back-and-forth. It was an unsettling feeling. It felt wholly unnatural, having spent his entire life on solid ground. The tragedy had made him feel sick to his stomach, and the turbulence as the craft rocketed through the atmosphere wasn’t helping anything.

The cargo hold was dark and filled with grim faces. Several Soturi stood guard over the prisoners. Nolan found himself next to Liam. He was a tall stocky fellow with blonde hair. He stood about 6’2”, and had a blank expression on his face. It was too much for him to process. He had shut down emotionally.

Whispers slipped back-and-forth among the prisoners, despite the guards repeated admonitions to remain quiet.

“I’m going to kill all of these mother fuckers,” Liam muttered. His voice was dry and matter-of-fact.

“I’ll help you,” Nolan replied. “Do you know if your sister survived?”

Liam shook his head.

“What about your parents?” Nolan asked.

He shook his head again.

“Have you seen my mom? Or Lila?”

Liam was silent for a long moment. “They didn’t make it. I’m sorry.”

Nolan’s throat tightened. He felt like he had been stabbed in the heart. It was all he could do not to break down.

“What do you think they’re going to do with us?” Liam asked.

Nolan couldn’t even find the strength to respond.

“The next person that opens their mouth is going to get their head blown off,” a rifleman barked.

The murmurs ceased, momentarily.

The engines roared, vibrating through the ship. The turbulence in the upper atmosphere bounced the craft around, rattling the bulkheads. But soon the ride became smooth as glass as the transport entered space.

Nolan had heard about the weightlessness of space, but some type of artificial gravity kept him, and the rest of the prisoners, affixed to the deck.

It only took a few minutes to reach the dreadnought, and soon the transport was landing on the flight deck. The hatch opened and the ramp lowered, and the Soturi marched the prisoners onto the flight deck. They were greeted by a hard-ass master chief that resembled a bulldog in battle armor. He was short and stout with a gruff voice that came from a lifetime of screaming. “All right, listen up, maggots!” He barked. “You are all now property of Lord Valdovar and the Imperial Realm. If you cooperate and do as you’re told, you may find a place as a subject of the Emperor. Cause trouble, and you will be dealt with appropriately. Get on my bad side, and you will wish you were dead. Keep your mouths shut, follow instructions, and don’t draw attention to yourselves. That is the best way to survive.” The master chief drew a deep breath. “Now, I can see in your eyes that a few of you have already decided to start trouble. I realize that you all are mourning the loss of loved ones, but I don’t give a shit. There’s nothing you can do to change the situation, and the sooner you come to accept that, the better off you’ll be. Keep in mind, that I will treat you as you deserve to be treated. Compliance will be met with reward. Disobedience will be met with pain. Is this understood?”

The dazed crowd of prisoners didn’t respond.

The master chief yelled, “Is that understood?”

A few people muttered back.

“When I give you a command, or ask you a question, you will respond accordingly and address me as Master Chief. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Master Chief,” some of the prisoners said.

The master chief wasn’t pleased with their lackluster tone. “I’m going to ask you one more time. If anyone doesn’t respond, rations will be withheld for the entire group and I might personally administer a beating. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, Master Chief,” they all said.

But the response wasn’t loud enough.

“Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, Master Chief!” the prisoners said with more enthusiasm.

“That’s pathetic. But I guess it’s as good as I’m going to get right now.” The master chief grumbled. “Petty Officer Griggs, escort these prisoners to the holding cell.”

“Aye-aye, sir,” Griggs said. He marched the prisoners off the flight deck, weaving them through a maze of passageways. The petty officer was accompanied by a squad of Soturi.

Nolan couldn’t help but be a little awestruck by the sight of the massive ship. It was unlike anything he had ever seen. It seemed like an endless maze of hallways and compartments. The crew was in perpetual motion. It was a floating city that never slept.

The prisoners finally reached the holding cell. They were unshackled and shoved inside the cavernous space. It was like a dungeon—dark and dank and filled with prisoners that had been collected from all over the galaxy. The place reeked of body odor. Hundreds of prisoners were forced to live in close quarters with little amenities or hygiene.

Nolan grimaced at his future. Was this how he was going to have to spend the rest of his life? Living in reprehensible conditions? It was only a matter of time before disease wiped out the majority of the prison population. In such close proximity, bacterial infections and stomach viruses would pass from person to person like wildfire.

Nolan rubbed his wrists where the shackles had worn grooves in his skin. He scanned the compartment, looking for an empty place to call his own. But there wasn’t much room. He found a small section next to a support pillar and took a seat. He leaned against the pillar and tried to process everything that had happened. Nolan was hardly there a minute before he noticed a large man towering over him. The guy didn’t look happy. At 6’5” and 270 pounds, he wasn’t a man to be trifled with.

“You’re in my space,” the giant said. His nostrils flared, and his eyes blazed into Nolan.

Nolan looked up at him curiously.

“Move, or I’ll move you,” the ogre demanded.

9

“No problem,” Nolan said as he began to stand up. “It’s been a rough day. I’m not looking for any more trouble.”

The big ogre glared at him and said nothing. He looked like a bull ready to charge, snorting through his big nostrils.

Nolan surveyed the cramped quarters looking for another space that he could call his own. He weaved through the mass of people and found a small section next to the bulkhead. This time he asked the man sitting nearby if the space was taken.

The man shook his head.

Nolan took a seat and leaned against the bulkhead. Soon, he felt a shadow cover him. Nolan looked up to see the big ogre towering above him again. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“You’re in my space.”

Nolan let out an exasperated sigh. He was tired and heartbroken and this kind of crap was the last thing he needed. “I thought that was your space over there,” Nolan said, pointing.

“I changed my mind. I like this space better.”

Nolan stood up, small in the shadow of this hulking behemoth. He pointed back to the previous space that he had been kicked out of. “So, are you saying that space is available now?”

The ogre shook his head.

“Okay. Maybe you should show me where I can call home. That way we don’t have any more misunderstandings.”

The ogre looked confused for a moment. “I don’t think there’s room in here for you.”

Nolan paused. “Okay. I can see that we got off on the wrong foot. If I did something to offend you, I apologize. I’m Nolan,” he said, extending his hand.

The ogre’s glaring eyes glanced down to Nolan’s hand for a moment. He seemed disgusted. His eyes flicked back to meet Nolan’s. His name was Darvak, but he wasn’t about to say it.

Without warning, Darvak cocked his fist back and swung for Nolan’s head with all his might. His fist was like a cinder block careening through the air with the force of a freight train.

Nolan’s eyes widened at the sight. He ducked out of the way, and the ogre’s fist whooshed overhead. It slammed into the bulkhead with such force that it cracked the ogre’s knuckles. The clank reverberated throughout the cavernous space. A hush fell over the crowd, and all eyes were on the two combatants.

Darvak cringed with pain.

Nolan took the opportunity to kick the big guy in the groin. The behemoth doubled over. Nolan jumped up, then dropped his elbow down on the back of the ogre’s neck, sending the big beast crashing to the deck.

Nolan spun around, took a few steps back, and assumed a defensive posture. He knew the big guy was going to get up, and when he did he was going to be very pissed off.

Darvak stood up, shook out his hand from the pain, and rubbed his aching crotch. His eyes blazed at Nolan through his crinkled brow. He looked more ferocious than a vygar, and he was about to pounce.

Nolan ran through multiple defensive scenarios in his mind, trying to figure out his next move. Darvak was big and slow. Nolan had speed on his side. He was going to have to keep moving and evading the big beast. Standing toe to toe with a guy like that could drastically reduce one’s lifespan.

Darvak had a thick pad of blubber on his abdomen. Body shots would bounce right off. He looked like he had a pretty good chin—his head was meaty, and his neck was thick. The height discrepancy was going to make it hard for Nolan to land a good shot. His best bet was to dance around, wear the big guy out, and try to take out his knees. It doesn’t matter how big a guy is, a nice kick to the medial collateral ligament will put him down and make him walk with a limp for the rest of his life.

The ogre lunged toward Nolan. His movement was explosive for a big guy. He was like an NFL lineman pursuing the quarterback.

Nolan sidestepped. He almost evaded the behemoth, but the big guy managed to grab Nolan by the arm. He slammed him to the deck like a rag-doll. The impact knocked the breath from Nolan’s lungs.

The crowd had circled around to watch the action.

Before Nolan knew it, the big guy was on top of him. All Nolan could focus on was the meaty fist that was cocked back, ready to pummel his face.

Nolan was a little disappointed that none of his friends were stepping in to mediate the situation. Where was Liam? The two of them could probably take this guy down.

Just as the ogre was about to strike, the hatch slid open to the compartment and the Dark Lord stepped in, along with Commander Xule, the Master Chief, and a cadre of Soturi.

The crowd parted, and the ogre quickly retreated, not wanting to draw any attention to himself.

Nolan pulled himself from the deck and stood up. The rest of the prisoners were silent.

“I see you have settled in,” Valdovar said. “I hope you find your new accommodations acceptable. Some of you have been here for several weeks. Some of you are new arrivals. I thought I’d take this opportunity to get better acquainted. I am Lord Valdovar, Emperor of the Imperial Realm. Though you are my prisoners, I’m willing to give you the opportunity for advancement. I reward dedication and loyalty. I need brave warriors. The galaxy is vast and there are many worlds to conquer. Swear allegiance to me, and you will have a path to freedom.”

“I’ll never fight for you,” one of the prisoners said, defiantly. He stood tall and proud. “I’d rather die than serve you.”

“That is your choice,” Valdovar said. “But those who do not fight will work as slaves until their dying days. Join me, and one day, you may become a citizen of the Empire, and reap all the rewards that title bestows.”

The crowd muttered and grumbled. No one wanted to swear their allegiance to the tyrant.

“I’m sure you all would like to see me dead,” Valdovar said. “Some of you may even be foolish enough to try to kill me.”

“You’ve got that right,” the defiant man said.

Valdovar seemed amused. He drew closer, and though the man stood his ground, it was easy to see he became unsettled by the demon’s presence. A thin mist of sweat formed on his brow. He trembled slightly. His eyes were wide with fear.

Valdovar drew his sword. The blade glimmered in the light. It was an exquisite weapon. Ornately adorned and polished to perfection. There was no telling what the tyrant was going to do next. He could have easily lopped off the man’s head or thrust the sword into his belly. The air was thick with tension and anticipation. But Valdovar did none of those things. Instead, he turned the sword around and presented the hilt to the defiant man.

Valdovar stood defenseless and outstretched his arms. “Go ahead. Kill me, if you can.”

The crowd watched intently.

Nolan knew this was going to end badly for the man.

The defiant one gripped the hilt and gazed at the sword with amazement. He summoned all his rage and might and reared the sword back. He thrust his full body weight forward and hacked the blade down toward Valdovar’s neck. But just as Nolan had experienced back on Sargol, the defiant man couldn’t complete the task. The same magical force stayed the blade.

The man struggled against the resistance, shaking and sweating. Then he turned the blade on himself, preparing to thrust the tip into his belly.

Valdovar unconsciously stroked a purple crystal that dangled from his neck as he watched the failure of his attacker with glee.

A terrified look washed over the defiant man’s face. He couldn’t control his actions, but he knew what was coming next. He tried to fight it off, but Valdovar’s power was far too great. The man jabbed the point of the blade into his abdomen and thrust it through until it punctured his internal organs and emerged through his back. He stayed on his feet for a few moments, then his knees went weak. He collapsed to the deck and rolled aside.

Valdovar grabbed the hilt of the sword and pulled it from the man’s belly. He watched as the man bled to death, a crimson pool forming on the deck around the soon-to-be corpse.

Valdovar smiled. “Does anyone else harbor any illusions about their ability to kill me? Would anyone else rather die than serve?”

The prisoners were silent.

10

“Give me 20 years of devoted service, and I will give you your freedom,” Valdovar said. “Kneel and take your oath of enlistment.”

The wary eyes of the prisoners glanced around the compartment, watching for the first to kneel. After a moment, one man dropped to his knee.

Then another.

Then another.

It wasn’t long before the majority of prisoners had taken a knee. There were a few stragglers still standing. Nolan was among them. He felt a tug on his sleeve. He looked down to see the imploring eyes of his neighbor.

“Don’t be stupid,” the boy, Caleb, whispered. He had short dark hair and brown eyes. He had a small frame and was maybe 17 or 18. “Live to fight another day.”

Nolan’s face tensed, wracked with inner turmoil. Like the defiant man, Nolan would rather die than serve this tyrant. But his heart yearned for revenge. He wanted nothing more than to kill Valdovar. If he was sent to work in some far off land as a slave in the mines he might never get the opportunity. But as a warrior in Valdovar’s legion, perhaps there was a chance?

Nolan reluctantly dropped to his knee. He was the last man standing.

“You have all chosen wisely,” Valdovar said. He extended his arms, holding his hands over the prisoners. He focused his energy, casting a spell over them. “You are all now bound to serve and protect me. For as long as you shall live. You will obey my every command. You will make any sacrifice. The oath is unbreakable, till death. Your allegiance will be unwavering. Swear to it.”

“I swear,” the prisoners said in unison. They had no choice. The words slipped from her tongues, whether they wanted to say them or not.

An almost imperceptible grin formed on Valdovar’s lips. “You will be trained, well fed, and given better accommodations. Service has its perks. Some of you may find you even have the opportunity for advancement.” Valdovar paused as he looked over his new recruits. “Welcome to the Imperial Realm.”

Nolan had a sickening feeling, like he just betrayed everything he stood for. He was going to be forced to do the same thing to other colonies that had been done to his village. Commit the same types of atrocities. He felt shame fester inside of him.

Valdovar spun around and strutted out of the compartment.

Commander Xule took the stage. “You will be divided into platoons and escorted to new accommodations and issued gear. Your strengths and weaknesses will be assessed, and we will determine the best use of your particular skills. If you don’t have any skills, you may be discharged.”

The prisoners seemed to perk up for a moment. A discharge sounded like it could be a good thing. But that idea was quickly squelched.

“And by discharged, I mean escorted to the airlock and spaced. We have no use for deadweight. You either provide value to the Emperor, or you don’t. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir,” they all responded in unison. They answered like robots with pre-programmed responses.

“Master Chief, begin sorting through these rejects,” the commander said.

“Aye, sir,” the master chief responded.

The commander left the compartment.

The master chief surveyed the new recruits. “All right, maggots. You heard the man. It’s time for you to become Imperial Soturi.”

The recruits were marched out of the holding cell in small groups. They were led through a maze of hallways to the processing station. Nolan waited in line next to Caleb. Darvak, several places back in line, kept scowling at them. It was a disconcerting feeling. Nolan tried to ignore him, but still kept a wary eye glancing in the ogre’s direction from time to time.

“Where are you from?” Nolan asked Caleb.

“Sargol. Quaanvax Province.”

“You?”

“Sargol, Vindül Province.” Nolan said with a grim face.

“They took us prisoner earlier this morning. Some of these prisoners have been here for a few weeks. Picked up from Nova Prime.”

“This isn’t a goddamn social hour,” the master chief yelled. “Keep your mouths’ shut and your eyes forward.” The master chief walked the line of recruits, giving them all the evil eye.

One by one, the recruits entered a mysterious compartment. A few minutes later, they emerged and were then ushered into the processing station.

“What do you think is going on in there?” Nolan whispered.

“Some type of sorting process,” Caleb said. “One of the guys from Nova Prime mentioned something about it. Rumor has it that Valdovar stole the soul of an oracle and imprisoned it. The oracle screens you and determines where you fit in best. Valdovar is also looking for benders.”

“Benders?”

“People who have the ability to bend space time. It’s how the ship can travel across the galaxy in almost a blink of an eye.”

Nolan looked perplexed. “How is that possible?”

Caleb shrugged. “I don’t know. Some people have the gift. But I wouldn’t want it. It comes with a heavy price, or so I’m told.”

Nolan watched anxiously as the slave recruits were led one by one into the compartment. A strange glow radiated from the room, spilling into the hallway when the hatch opened. A flutter of nerves ran through Nolan’s body when it was his turn. He took a deep breath and stepped through the hatch. It sealed shut behind him.

The compartment was dim. In the center, an octahedron the size of a soccer ball was suspended above a pedestal. It radiated with energy. A blue glow pulsed slightly, illuminating the bulkheads. Nolan heard a whispered voice as he entered. But he wasn’t entirely sure if someone had spoken to him, or if was all in his imagination. There wasn’t anyone else in the room besides the glowing geometric shape. The voice seemed to swirl around the compartment, but it also seemed to emanate from the octahedron. Could this glowing shape be the stolen oracle’s spirit? Forced, like every other entity aboard the ship, to do Valdovar’s bidding?

“Come closer,” the voice said.

Nolan stepped cautiously toward the geometric shape. There were vague indications of a face formed by the glowing energy contained within the octahedron. But it could have just been Nolan’s imagination. It was like looking at a cloud and seeing shapes.

“Who are you?” Nolan asked. “What are you?”

“I am Oberon. What I am is none of your concern.” He had the voice of an affable old man who was trying to sound intimidating. He did a pretty good job of it.

“Is it true what they say about you?”

“My purpose is not to answer your questions.”

“What is your purpose?” Nolan asked.

“I screen all of the emperor’s subjects. I make sure no one poses a threat.”

“How can anyone pose a threat to him? We are now all bound by his magic.”

“You’re a fool if you think I would tell you Valdovar’s weaknesses.”

“So he does have weaknesses?”

The spirit grumbled. “I will be the one to ask the questions.” There was no telling how long the spirit had been stuck within the shape, forced to evaluate new recruits. It was clear that the process had grown quite tedious over the years.

“Go ahead. Ask away,” Nolan said, almost taunting the spirit.

“I do not need to ask questions with words,” Oberon said, boasting. “I can sense the very nature of your being.”

“And what do you sense?” Nolan was curious. But his tone continued to be challenging.

Oberon said nothing.

Nolan felt an odd sensation. The hairs on the back of his neck stood tall. It was like the room was positively charged. Something was happening, but he wasn’t sure what.

“Interesting,” the voice said.

“What?”

“Nothing. You are perfectly unremarkable. You pose no threat to the Emperor. You are not the one he seeks.”

“Who does he seek?”

“Infantry,” Oberon said, ignoring him. “You will serve in an infantry position. That is where your skills will be of the best use.”

Nolan started to protest.

“This boring conversation has dragged on for far too long. I know all that I need to know. Run along, and send in the next recruit.”

Nolan frowned and gave the spirit a dirty look. Nolan turned to leave, but before he reached the hatch he glanced back over his shoulder at the spirit. “So there is someone that can harm Valdovar?”

“Of course not,” Oberon said, as if the question were preposterous. “But one can never be too careful.”

Nolan grinned. “You are not a very good liar.”

The spirit balked and grumbled.

Nolan surveyed the glowing shape of energy. “You are a prisoner just like the rest of us, aren’t you?”

“I most certainly am not. I am free to roam the galaxy as I please. I’m free of corporeal form and all of its hindrances.”

“It looks like you’re stuck in a box to me.”

The spirit grumbled again, “Begone. I have many more recruits to assess.”

Nolan chuckled. He had never met a grumpy spirit before, but there was a first time for everything. “You don’t get out of this compartment much, do you?”

“Out!” Oberon demanded.

“How long have you been here?”

“Since before you were even a thought.”

“Not before the fall of the Tryvek Dynasty?”

“I take it back. You are a threat… It seems you could pester anyone to death. Even the dead.”

11

In the processing station, the recruits were issued uniforms, screened for diseases, and inoculated. The ship’s doctor gave each recruit a thorough evaluation. Recruits with serious illnesses or abnormalities were precluded from service. They were taken away by the guards, and Nolan could only assume the worst.

From there, the slave recruits were escorted to their berthing quarters. There were rows and rows of tiny racks, barely large enough to accommodate a grown man. They were each assigned a locker for personal items and a rack. They hot bunked with two other people, rotating shifts. Eight hours on duty, eight hours off duty, and eight hours for rack time. But the recruits would almost never see a full eight hours of sleep.

“This is your new home, ladies.” The master chief said. “One of the perks of advancing through the ranks is better accommodations. So, if you don’t like these quarters, work your ass off, maybe you’ll get promoted?”

The accommodations were far better than the holding cell, but nothing to write home about.

“I’m going to turn you over to Gunnery Sergeant Nyvor. Your ass belongs to him during your training phase. After which you will be assigned to a combat platoon. Most of you will die. But, then again, maybe that’s something to look forward to.”

The master chief stepped aside and let Nyvor take over. The gunnery sergeant had a permanent scowl on his face. He was tall and thick with muscle. His uniform fit him like a glove. He had narrow brown eyes and a square jaw, and looked like he could take down a vygar with his bare hands.

“Ah-ten-shun!” Nyvor shouted.

The recruits snapped into formation at the end of there bunks. It was somewhat of a lackluster effort, and Nyvor wasn’t pleased.

“You will respond to all commands quickly and efficiently. If I catch any of you scumbags dragging ass like that again, you’ll spend a day in the pain chamber. Is that understood?”

There was a less than adequate response. “Yes, sir.”

“I didn’t hear you!”

“Yes, sir!” the recruits shouted with more enthusiasm.

Nyvor still wasn’t satisfied. “I’ve got a mind to send you all to the pain chamber just for good measure. Let’s try that one more time. Do you all want to go to the pain chamber?”

“No, sir!” they shouted at the top of their lungs.

Nolan didn’t know what the pain chamber was, and he certainly didn’t want to find out.

“You’re all a bunch of losers,” Nyvor shouted in a scratchy voice. All he did was yell at people, and it had made his vocal cords rough and nodular. “You wouldn’t be here otherwise. Over the next several weeks, I’m going to turn you into war ready Soturi of the Star Legion. You will become dedicated, disciplined, and deadly. You will forget what it feels like to lose, because all we do is win.”

Nolan had no desire to fight in the Emperor’s service. None of the recruits did. But as the master chief had said, death was the only other option.

Nyvor’s narrow eyes surveyed the slave recruits, burning into them like lasers as he strolled up and down the row. “Now, I realize that most of you lack the proper motivation. And you may be wondering how can a group of prisoners ever become an effective fighting force? The answer is simple. You have no choice. Failure to perform will be punished. Insubordination will be punished. I’m not going to make you drop and do push-ups. I’m not going to make you run around the ship. I’m not going to PT you until you puke your guts out. Instead, you will be sent to the pain chamber. Believe me, once you’ve experienced it, you’ll never want to go back.”

Some of the recruits had doubts. It sounded like a bunch of hyperbole. How bad could the pain chamber be?

“Imagine the worst pain you’ve ever felt in your life, now multiply that by 10,” Nyvor said. “Imagine deep pain through your entire body. All of your joints and muscles. Flesh feeling as if it were being burned from the bone. A throbbing headache that feels like your skull is going to explode. The pain chamber will probe your fears and weaknesses and exploit them.”

Nolan definitely didn’t want any part of that.

“The only plus side about the pain chamber is that if you can survive it, it will prepare you to deal with battle wounds.”

Most of the recruits were getting the picture by now. But some still didn’t believe the full magnitude of it.

“You’re not going to get months of formal training. No one cares enough about you. It’s going to be trial by fire. And I can tell you from experience you are going to get all the shit details. You’ll be the first ones into battle. So, if I were you, I would soak up as much information as possible from the limited amount of training that you will receive. It may mean the difference between life and death in the field.” Nyvor paused a moment and gave a last look over the new recruits. “Make your way to the chow hall and fill up. You’re going to need all the fuel you can get during training.”

Nolan hadn’t eaten yet today, but food was the last thing on his mind. The day’s events had been so gut wrenching he didn’t even know if he could get a bite down. He figured he might as well try. There was no telling when he would get the next meal.

The slave recruits were led out of the berthing compartment to the mess hall. It was a cavernous space full of Soturi. Silverware clanked against trays as platoons of warriors shoveled food into their mouths. The air was filled with chatter and boasts of their recent conquest. Nolan watched as the Soturi laughed and congratulated one another, full of pride and camaraderie. These were the warriors that had just conquered Nolan’s home world.

Adrenaline coursed through Nolan’s veins. His heart felt like it was going to punch through his chest. His whole body tensed. He knew these warriors were not much different than he was—conquered and enslaved, forced to fight—but Nolan couldn’t help but feel a deep hatred for them. It was all he could do not to go ballistic. If he would have had a spell rifle, or even a sword, he probably would have started trouble.

Caleb put a hand Nolan’s shoulder, sensing his distress. “Take it easy, buddy. Now is not the time.”

“Is there ever going to be a time?”

Caleb shrugged. “Someday.”

“For most people, someday means never.”

“Don’t be one of those people.”

Nolan looked at Caleb with curiosity. “How can you remain so calm? I don’t know about you, but I’ve just lost everything. My family, my friends, almost everyone I know and loved is dead.”

“That sums up my situation as well,” Caleb said, his voice full of grim resignation. “But there’s nothing I can do to change that fact. The only thing I can do is to move forward, and focus on the things that I can control.”

“There’s not much we can control, at the moment.”

“Your attitude. That’s probably the only thing you can ever control.”

Nolan couldn’t argue with what Caleb had to say, but accepting the events of the past was easier said than done. Nolan tried to make peace with what happened. But it didn’t take away the lump in his throat, or the sickening feeling in his stomach—the immense emotional pain that had gripped his entire body and didn’t want to let go. As he searched his mind, Nolan found he did have a few things to be thankful for—he was alive, and maybe he would live long enough to see his family avenged.

Nolan and Caleb stood in the serving line with the rest of the recruits. There were several platoons ahead of them. The line moved slow, but steady. From where he was standing, Nolan couldn’t see what type of food the ship was serving. But the air was filled with a mix of smells that stirred his appetite. If his senses weren’t deceiving him, he smelled grilled beef and roasted chicken. As he drew closer to the serving area, he caught sight of various cuts of succulent meat, a plethora of cooked vegetables, and fresh fruit. He had never seen a spread of food quite like this. For an instant, he wondered if his eyes were deceiving him. Perhaps it was some type of magic or trickery?

Nolan grabbed a tray and was about to dish up, when a big brute in battle armor pushed him aside.

“Piss off, slave,” the ogre grumbled. “Real warriors are served first.” He let his entire platoon move in front of the recruits.

Rage boiled inside Nolan. He gritted his teeth and stared at the pompous warrior. The guy was big and thick and had a face that looked like it had been beaten with a stick one too many times. His nose was crooked from multiple fractures. There were scars along his cheeks and brow.

“Quit eyeballing me, or you’re going to be in a world of hurt,” the brute grumbled.

Nolan didn’t break his gaze with the big ogre.

“I gave you a direct order, dirt ball.” The brute displayed the chevron’s on his sleeve. “I’m a sergeant. You don’t even have a rank. It’s called chain of command. You’ve got to do everything a superior says.”

“I don’t know if you really qualify as my superior,” Nolan muttered.

The ogre’s eyes narrowed at him. Anger reddened his face.

“Go easy on the recruit, Tanc,” another Soturi said. “After all, we just slaughtered his entire community.”

Sergeant Tanc Krom chuckled with his buddy. Then his grin turned to a scowl. “I’m going to let your insubordination slide, this time.” His menacing face drew closer to Nolan. “But don’t ever disrespect me again, do you understand me?” His hateful eyes surveyed Nolan with disdain as he waited for a response.

Nolan said nothing. His eyes continued to blaze into the ogre.

“Do you understand me?”

“I understand,” Nolan muttered.

“I understand, Sergeant!” Tanc instructed.

“I understand, Sergeant!” Nolan repeated.

The two continued to stare each other down for a moment.

Caleb patted Nolan on the shoulder and forced a jovial tone. “Well, now that’s settled, can we all eat?”

Tanc let a devious grin curl up on his rugged face. “I’m famished.” His eyes flared, and his tone was almost gloating. “Killing innocent civilians always works up my appetite.”

That was all Nolan could take. He erupted with rage and shoved the sergeant.

It was just what Tanc had wanted. He cocked back his massive fist and swung for Nolan’s jaw.

12

Nolan ducked as Tanc’s fist careened overhead. This was going to end badly for Nolan, and he knew it. The ogre was still in battle armor, and Nolan wasn’t going to be able to cause much damage with his bare fists.

Nolan stepped aside and countered with a left hook that connected with Tanc’s jaw. The impact wrenched the brute’s neck to the side. Tanc shrugged it off like it was nothing. All it did was piss him off further.

His angry gaze returned to Nolan. He growled and charged the recruit who was almost a foot shorter than the hulking behemoth. Tanc was like a demonic freight train charging him down.

Nolan’s eyes widened as he tried to evade the big beast, but Tanc’s long arms grabbed him, slamming him to the deck. In an instant Tanc was atop Nolan, pummeling him into submission. His heavy fist reared back repeatedly, crashing down on Nolan’s face like a sledgehammer. Each punch sandwiched Nolan’s head between Tanc’s fist and the deck.

BAM!

Nolan’s lip split. The tinny metallic taste of blood filled his mouth.

BAM!

A laceration opened up on his cheek, and warm blood trickled down into his ear.

BAM!

Pain shot through Nolan’s nose and eyes. The disconcerting crackle of crunching bones filled his ears. He watched the sledgehammer fist rear back again, ready to strike.

It didn’t take long for the rest of the platoon to jump into the fray. The mess hall came alive with hoots and hollers. Those who weren’t involved in the ruckus gathered around to watch the spectacle. Fists flew through the air. Blood spatter and saliva sprayed from lips and cheeks as heavy fists did their damage.

Against the armored platoon, the recruits were getting mauled.

“What the hell is going on in here?” Nyvor yelled in a voice so threatening and ominous he could stop a wild bear in its tracks. He stormed into the compartment with a scowl on his face, his narrow eyes searching for the source of the commotion.

The compartment snapped to attention.

Tanc sprang to his feet and fell in with the rest of his platoon. Nyvor’s gaze fixed on Nolan, who was still lying on the deck. He peeled himself up and staggered to his feet.

Nyvor was in his face within seconds. “What were you doing on the deck, recruit? Is there something interesting down there I should know about? Are you tired? Were you taking a nap?”

“No, sir. I… fell, sir.”

Nyvor knew exactly what had happened. “You sure are clumsy, recruit. Do you need special assistance? I wouldn’t want you to get hurt in the mess hall.”

“No, sir.”

Nyvor glared at the recruit, standing nose to nose. “I will not tolerate disorder and chaos in my mess hall. I will not tolerate it anywhere on this ship. And it will not be tolerated in the Star Legion. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“The next time you get clumsy and fall on someone’s fist under my watch, it’s going to be your ass.” Nyvor stepped away from Nolan and addressed the entire compartment. “I know you all come from different backgrounds, but you are no longer individuals. You are one, cohesive, fighting force. If you intend to survive out there, you will need to rely on one another. Every Star Legion Soturi is your brother. And Soturi don’t fight Soturi!” Nyvor’s eyes blazed at Tanc.

The big ogre sheepishly looked away, shifting uncomfortably.

Nyvor’s eyes snapped back to Nolan. “I think a few hours in the pain chamber might serve as a useful reminder to anyone who’s forgotten the basic principles of the Star Legion.

Nolan tried to hide a frown. The pain chamber was the last thing he needed on top of his battered face and wounded pride.

“Get yourself cleaned up,” Nyvor said. “Then report to the pain chamber, ASAP.”

“Yes, sir!”

The gunnery sergeant’s furious eyes surveyed the rest of the recruit platoon. “I want the rest of you to report to the pain chamber as well. When one of you screws up, you’re all going to suffer.”

The recruits stifled groans of displeasure.

Nolan felt the angry eyes of his platoon fall upon him. This definitely wasn’t the way to make new friends.

“And by the way,” Nyvor added. “You’ve all lost meal privileges this evening.”

There were more groans and angry stares.

Nolan cringed.

“Move out, dirtbags!” Nyvor yelled.

The recruits trudged out of the mess hall, their faces full of dread.

Nyvor’s description didn’t quite do the pain chamber justice. He had far undersold the effects. The recruits had been strapped to the bulkheads, restrained at the wrists and ankles.

Nolan wasn’t sure how the torture device worked—whether it was magic or some type of technology—but the result was excruciating. Every nerve ending was on fire. It felt like his skin was covered in molten lava. He could almost smell flesh searing away from the bone, even though it was all an illusion. His muscles spasmed and his joints felt like someone was jamming an ice pick in them. The compartment was filled with the shrieks and screams of the platoon. Red faces, bulging veins, and watery eyes were the norm—even among the toughest of individuals. Nolan had never experienced pain on this level, and he wasn’t sure how much more of it that he could take.

It was hard to say how long the torture went on for. It seemed like an eternity. It came in pulsating waves so that no one could grow accustomed to it. A few of the recruits passed out from the intense discomfort and hung from the restraints, drooling on themselves.

Nolan could barely breathe the pain was so intense, and the muscle spasms so strong. When the throbbing pain finally ended, it was like a miracle. He thought for an instant that, perhaps, he had died. It seemed the only way to end the agony. He was drenched in sweat, as were the other recruits. Snot was running down his nose. Some of the recruits hurled from the nauseating discomfort. One thing was for certain—nobody wanted to experience that sensation again.

Nyvor strolled into the pain chamber with a devilish grin on his face. His gleeful eyes surveyed the tattered recruits. “Because you’re new, and this was a first infraction, I decided to go easy on you. That was five minutes. Have you had enough, or do you want more?”

“No more, sir,” one of the recruits wailed.

“I didn’t think so. Am I going to need to use this as a disciplinary tool in the future?” Nyvor already knew the answer.

“No, sir,” the weak voices of the recruits replied in unison.

“Good.” Nyvor spun around and marched out of the compartment as recruits were released from the restraints by several petty officers.

One by one, the recruits staggered into the hallway and found their way back to their berthing quarters. Nolan had to suffer the cold eyes of the rest of the platoon. Their contemptuous mutters filled his ears.

“Well, that was interesting,” Caleb said as he caught up to Nolan.

“Sorry.”

“Look at it this way. Today can’t get much worse.”

Nolan sighed. “The day’s not over yet.”

13

“Who is that?” Captain Kira Avar asked.

She was young, beautiful, and tough as nails. She had sculpted cheekbones, blue eyes, and short blonde hair. Despite her stunning good looks, she was a battle hardened veteran who had led her unit to many victorious campaigns. She watched as Nolan sparred with an opponent, displaying expert swordsmanship. Several weeks had gone by since the introduction to the pain chamber, and the recruits were starting to look more like Soturi.

The shiny blades clanked and clattered as Nolan dodged and parried, then attacked with masterful precision. He quickly disarmed his opponent. It was like that every time he picked up a blade. No one in the platoon could beat him.

The recruits had been put through an intensive training program. Nyvor may have been true to his word about not punishing recruits with PT, but that didn’t keep him from making them run endless laps around the ship to get into better physical condition. An out of shape warrior is an ineffective one. Those who couldn’t hack the intense physical conditioning were sent to another unit where their meals were slashed and their training focused almost solely on exercise—the Blubber Brigade.

When the recruits weren’t running laps, or doing push-ups, they were taught the protocols and customs of the Star Legion. They learned how to make their racks and how to properly wear uniforms. They were indoctrinated into the Imperial way of doing things, and all remnants of their civilian lives were expunged. Emphasis was placed on teamwork and cohesion. They were taught basic swordsmanship, and small unit tactics. Every training evolution was practiced with speed and intensity. Swift, violent action was the order of the day.

Though he had gotten off to a shaky start, Nolan was quickly making a name for himself.

“That’s Nolan Jamison,” Nyvor said.

“I want him.”

Nyvor arched a curious eyebrow at her.

Kira scowled at him. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Sergeant.”

Nyvor flashed a sly grin. “I’m sorry, but Major Zan has dibs on this platoon.”

Kira clenched her jaw. “My unit has taken heavy casualties recently. I need good replacements,” she said through gritted teeth. “All Major Zan does is sit on his ass. He’s never in the first wave.”

“I’m just a dumb grunt, sir. Those kind of conflicts are way above my pay grade. Maybe you can work out an arrangement with the major?”

“I’ve never known the major to be open to negotiations.“

“Perhaps you can talk to Commander Xule.”

“I don’t think Commander Xule is going to involve himself in Star Legion politics.”

“I think this is more than politics. This speaks to combat readiness,” Nyvor said with a wink. “Your unit is the most effective fighting force in the entire Legion. I think you should get to pick and choose who joins your team. But then again, I’m just a dumb grunt.”

Kira’s tense face softened. “I think we both know you’re not quite so dumb.”

“Thank you, sir.” Nyvor paused a moment. “Major Zan may have dibs on this recruit platoon, but he didn’t make note of any specific individuals within the platoon.” He let that hang there for a moment. “It’s entirely possible that some of them don’t graduate with this platoon. Some recruits may show such promise that they graduate early.”

Kira’s eyes glimmered. “Who would some of these advanced graduates be?”

Nyvor surveyed the recruits. “Nolan is an obvious choice. Darvak…” Nyvor pointed him out. “He’s big, aggressive, and follows orders. Not the sharpest tool in the shed, but I’d want him in my platoon.” He continued to point out recruits. “Caleb Von.”

Kira gave Nyvor a skeptical glance. “Him? He’s about the size of my pinky finger.”

“He smart, agile, and he’s got guts. Cool under pressure. The guy is unflappable.”

Kira seemed impressed. “I like cool under pressure. Make a list of everyone you think would fit in with my unit. When do you think they’ll be combat ready?”

Nyvor chuckled. “They don’t give me enough time to get these recruits combat ready. Three weeks is what they give me. Maybe if we had a little more time to turn them into warriors, you guys might not lose them so fast, sir.”

Kira couldn’t argue with him. “Perhaps you’d like to tell the Emperor to slow down his conquest of the galaxy?”

Nyvor flashed her a resigned look. Nothing was going to slow the Emperor down. Soon he would lay siege to the capital of the Republic and have complete control of the galaxy.

14

Nolan couldn’t help but notice Captain Avar as she watched the recruits. There wasn’t a man aboard the ship that didn’t imagine the possibilities. But those fantasies were quickly squelched by her brusque personality.

“Alright! Listen up!” Nyvor shouted, interrupting his sparring session between two recruits.

They lowered their swords and stood at attention.

“Don’t take this as a compliment, but you’re not the worst platoon of recruits that we’ve ever had come through here. As such, I’m going to step up your training.” Nyvor held up a spell rifle. It was a sleek, sexy piece of equipment. A big black barrel with a vented jacket and short stock. A high-powered scope was attached to the upper receiver. It was part tech, part magic. “This is a Zortak spell rifle. You’ve all been on the business end of one, and as you’re aware, that is not a place you want to be. Each one of these is powered by an enchanted crystal. While they are lethal and highly destructive, they are of limited use. The crystal’s energy will deplete quickly, and depending upon the strength of the wizard who enchanted the crystal, recharge times can be lengthy. That is why we spend so much time on swordsmanship. Quite often it will be your first and last line of defense.” Nyvor tossed the spell rifle to Nolan.

It caught Nolan off guard. He fumbled to catch the heavy weapon, finally securing it in his grasp. He had never held a rifle like this before. It was well-balanced and felt good in his hands. If only the Emperor were in his line of sight, he thought. But even then, there was no guarantee the spell rifle would work against the Emperor’s magic. Nothing else seemed to be effective.

“Have you ever fired a rifle before, recruit Jamison?” Nyvor asked.

“I’ve fired a crossbow.”

“Not exactly the same thing, but close enough.

Nyvor stepped back several paces and drew his sword. He assumed a defensive posture, holding the sword upright before him, crouching at the knees.

“I want you to take aim at me.”

Nolan hesitated for a moment, wondering if this was some type of set up.

“I said, take aim.”

Nolan brought the weapon to his shoulder and lined up Nyvor in the reticle of his sites.

“Do you think you can hit me at this distance?”

“Yes, sir.”

Nyvor grinned. “You sure?”

“Positive, sir.”

Nyvor’s eyes sparkled. “Give it your best shot.”

Nolan’s face twisted, confused. “Sir?”

“You heard me. Open fire.”

Nolan hesitated again. As much as he wanted to kill the Emperor, he didn’t really have a beef with Nyvor. Other than being a hard ass, he seemed like a fair man. He was just doing his job, trying to make the best soldiers that he could.

“I’m waiting, Recruit Jamison.”

“Yes, sir.” Nolan replied. He held his breath and steadied the rifle. His finger pulled the trigger and the blistering bolts of energy launched from the barrel, streaking across the compartment toward Nyvor.

The gunnery sergeant deflected the deadly bolt with his spell sword. It seemed to absorb the energy. Nyvor displayed impressive responses.

The platoon looked on with awe.

“I want you to keep firing until you hit me,” Nyvor commanded.

“If you say so, sir.”

Nolan took aim again and squeezed the trigger several times in rapid succession. It was a semiautomatic weapon. The rifle would fire as fast as you could pull the trigger, but it didn’t have a select fire switch. There wasn’t a burst mode—the crystals couldn’t handle that kind of energy output.

The blazing bolts streaked across the compartment with deadly intensity.

Nyvor twirled his sword, deflecting each bolt with ease as he advanced forward.

Nolan kept firing.

Nyvor closed the gap between them, deflecting bolt after bolt until he was close enough to knock the rifle from Nolan’s grasp with the blade of his sword.

The weapon clattered against the deck, sliding across the surface. The impact of Nyvor’s blade against the barrel rattled Nolan’s hands. He stared at the gunnery sergeant in amazement.

Nyvor sheathed his sword and addressed the platoon. “This is why I will always choose a sword over a rifle. Learn to master the blade. It will be your best friend on the battlefield. Your spell sword will never run out of energy. It won’t malfunction or jam. You must master it as you must master your life.”

The platoon was practically speechless. The gunnery sergeant’s skills were impressive. With that demonstration, he had earned a degree of respect from all of them.

“All right, it’s chow time. Report back here in 30 minutes for advanced swordsmanship training.”

The recruits rushed toward the exit.

Nyvor called after Nolan, Caleb, and Darvak. “I need to speak with you a moment.”

The three of them looked disappointed that they were going to miss out on chow time.

“Don’t worry. You’ll have plenty of time to chow later. I’ve got good news and bad news for you.”

“What’s the good news?” Caleb asked. “Are we being offered an early retirement package?”

“Much better. I’m moving you out of recruit training and into a combat unit.”

“But we’ve got another week of training, sir.” Nolan protested. As much as training sucked, combat had to be worse. Nolan wanted to be as prepared as possible.

“I know you’ll miss me,” Nyvor said sarcastically, “But the needs of Star Legion dictate that you replace the lost ranks of one of our elite units. Of course, if you don’t think you’re up for it, I could always suggest you be discharged. I hear the vacuum of space is really nice this time of year.”

15

Nolan tossed and turned all night. He had gotten used to the snores, the people chattering in their sleep, and Timmons who farted all night, making the compartment smell like rotten eggs. Well, Nolan hadn’t really gotten used to that. But he was anxious about the transfer to a combat unit. It wasn’t that he was afraid to fight. He was more concerned with fighting on the wrong side. The fear of getting maimed or wounded during combat was always there, but his true concern was that he was going to be part of the most destructive force in the galaxy. How was he ever going to be able to live with his actions? If he survived and lived to old age, how would he feel about the course of his life? He wanted to make choices that his future self would be proud of. He didn’t want to live to old age just to be filled with regret. There were no easy answers, and the dilemma weighed heavily on his mind.

Morning reveille seemed to come only moments after Nolan fell truly asleep. He shot out of bed and made his rack, then went about the usual morning routine of personal hygiene, inspection, and breakfast. After returning from the chow hall, Nolan received his official transfer orders and was assigned to new quarters with his combat platoon.

Nolan gathered his belongings. Along with Caleb and Darvak, Nolan made his way through the corridors and joined the new unit. The trio was met with unwelcoming stares as they entered their new berthing compartment.

These were war weary Soturi with eyes as deep as oceans. When they looked at you, they looked through you. Their adrenaline levels had been ratcheted up so high that the daily routine of life barely registered. They didn’t seem to care about anything or anyone. Least of all the FNGs (fucking new guys).

The trio stood just inside the hatch, looking like fish out of water. Nolan caught sight of Tanc at the far end of the compartment. Great, Nolan thought. The last thing he needed was to be in a platoon with that jackass.

An NCO stepped up and introduced himself. He was the only one who seemed halfway friendly. “Staff Sergeant Hanson,” he said, introducing himself. He shook hands with the trio. “Welcome to Thrasher Platoon. Pick an empty rack and get your gear stowed.”

“Yes, Sergeant,” Nolan replied.

“We’ve been in desperate need of replacements. Don’t mind the rest of the fellows. They’re good guys, but it might take them a little while to warm up to you. If you last that long.”

Nolan forced a grim smile.

“Once you get settled, head down to the armory and you will be issued full battle gear,” Hanson said.

“Yes, Sergeant.”

Nolan and the others picked out racks and got settled in.

“I guess they’re letting just anybody in this platoon now,” Tanc grumbled. He sneered at the new additions.

Nolan ignored him. One trip to the pain chamber was more than enough.

“They were hand selected by me,” Captain Avar said as she entered the room.

“Officer on deck,” someone shouted.

The platoon snapped to attention. Tanc looked like a scolded child. His cheeks reddened.

“As you were,” Captain Avar said.

The tension in the room dissipated.

“I hate to spring this on your last minute, but it looks like we’re going to be assaulting the Citadel on Gamma Hydra. Mission prep will be at 0400 hours in the ready room on B deck. Get a good nights sleep and may the hand of Rynok be with us.”

The platoon responded with enthusiasm. Rynok was an ancient god of war, and his name was often invoked prior to engaging in battle.

Nolan stowed his gear, then made his way to the armory with Caleb and Darvak. Even when asked a direct question, Darvak never had much to say. That was fine by Nolan. The two had managed to avoid conflict since their initial scrap in the holding cell. But it wasn’t like they were ever going to become the best of friends.

By this point in time, Nolan had a cursory knowledge of the ship and its layout. Though it wouldn’t take much doing to get lost on the dreadnought. The passageways could easily blend together, all looking the same. It wasn’t difficult to get turned around.

As usual, the hallways were alive with activity. The constant drone of the engines rumbled through the ship. Nolan was used to a rather solitary life with lots of wide open spaces. The cramped nature of the dreadnought was claustrophobic in comparison, but he was getting used to it. As nervous as he was about the impending battle there was a part of him that was relishing the opportunity to get off the ship and back on solid ground.

On the way to the armory, they passed by a chamber that was posted with two guards. It wasn’t an unusual sight on the dreadnought, but it piqued Nolan’s curiosity. “What’s in there?”

“That’s where the benders do their thing,” Darvak said in a rare burst of speech.

Nolan took a step toward the hatch to the compartment. The guards instantly drew their spell rifles on him.

“Step back, recruit!” a guard shouted.

Nolan lifted his hands in the air, backing away. “Sorry. Just curious.”

“That’s a good way to get killed,” the guard said.

Nolan and the others continued down the hallway. “What’s the big deal?”

“What’s the big deal?” Caleb repeated, astonished that Nolan needed to ask. “They’re probably the most important people aboard the ship. If anything were to happen to them, we’d be stuck light-years from the nearest planet. Maybe one in a million possess the ability.”

“How many are in there?”

Caleb shrugged. “To jump a ship this size across the galaxy… I’d guess at least three. But that’s just a guess.”

“How do they do it?”

“You ask a lot of questions,” Darvak said.

“I don’t know how it works,” Caleb said. “But I know they need vacromium powder to do it. It allows them to alter consciousness somehow. Transcend the boundaries of space and time. That kind of thing.”

“Isn’t that stuff toxic?”

“If you do enough of it,” Caleb said. “You think we’ve got it bad… the benders have it worse.”

No one seemed to be fascinated by the process. It seemed unfathomable that anyone could manipulate space and time, yet the benders were moving the dreadnought across the galaxy with ease.

At the armory, they were greeted by an eccentric little man with wild hair and bushy eyebrows. He surveyed the men, sizing them up. He spun around and dashed toward a section of gear. The compartment was stacked with helmets and suits of armor. Rows of swords lined the bulkheads. Battle scarred shields were piled high.

The curator returned moments later and handed a suit of armor to Nolan. “This should fit you perfectly.”

“But you didn’t take any measurements?”

“I don’t need to,” he said, slightly offended. “Go ahead, try it on.”

Nolan suited up. The armor was solid, but surprisingly light. It was an odd blend of high tech with a medieval aesthetic. As the curator had said, it was just his size. But once Nolan had the suit on, it conformed perfectly to his shape. The armor plating was rigid, yet flexible. The suit was more than an inanimate object. It was as if it had a consciousness and was aware.

Nolan slid the helmet over his head. He peered through the narrow eye slots that were covered with polycarbonate glass. The suit came to life with a heads-up-display, and a communication link. As with most things aboard the dreadnought, the armor was part tech, part magic.

“How does that feel?” the curator asked.

Nolan moved around, testing out the fit. He had full range of motion in his arms and legs. Visibility was good, and his head movement wasn’t restricted. He barely felt like he was clad in any armor at all. “Good.”

The curator grinned. “I told you. Now try out the lift boots. The controls are tied into your thought patterns via the helmet.”

Nolan looked at him, skeptical.

“Go ahead. Try it.”

Nolan thought about lifting off the deck, but nothing happened.

“Focus.”

Nolan tried again, but still nothing happened.

The curator sighed. “Keep practicing. You’ll get the hang of it. Just be careful. The lift boots will bring you up and down, and they’re gyro-stabilized, but you won’t have much control, except for vertical ascension.” The curator hesitated a moment. “We had one recruit get a little too aggressive when activating lift boots. He launched from the deck and slammed into the roof, snapping his neck. Needless to say he received a medical discharge.”

Nolan swallowed hard. “You mean he was spaced.”

“We like to think of it as an extended vacation into the void.” The curator smiled. “Now, go pick your sword. Or, should I say, the sword will pick you.”

16

Nolan walked among the rows of swords, eyeing the different lengths and sizes. Some were plain, some were adorned with intricate etchings on the blade. He wondered if his sword that was taken back on Sargol was in here somewhere? But these were all swords that had been infused with Valdovar’s magic. None of these blades could harm him.

Nolan heard one of the swords rattling. Through a forest of metal, he could see a blade pulsing with a blue glow as it vibrated. It was as if the blade was calling out to him. Nolan moved the other weapons aside and grabbed the glowing sword by the hilt. He picked it up and held it before him, marveling at the blade. He moved it around, examining its weight and balance. It felt good in his hand. The curator was right. The sword had chosen him—and the two seemed to be a good match.

Nolan sheathed the blade.

“Take care of your sword, and it will take care of you,” the curator said.

Nolan took his admonition to heart. He waited for the others to acquire their gear, then the trio headed back to their berthing quarters. The night was sleepless. Nolan couldn’t stop thinking about the impending invasion. His stomach rumbled with nerves, and his body felt electric. By morning, he felt like he hadn’t slept a wink.

The ready room was packed with Soturi. Captain Avar stood at the front of the room. “The Citadel is heavily defended. You all know what happened to the last battalion we sent in.”

There was a grim silence among the crowd.

Nolan leaned over to Caleb and whispered? “What happened?”

Caleb shrugged.

An image of the Citadel appeared on the screen behind Kira. It was a grand structure with high battlements and towering spires. The Citadel was nestled in a valley between two towering peaks. There was only one point of attack from the ground—head on.

“The Citadel is protected by a spell shield. It will take the bulk of our firepower to dismantle it. But make no mistake, this battle is going to be fought on the ground.”

Nolan raised his hand. “What is the military value of this target?”

Captain Avar shot him an incredulous look—grunts weren’t supposed asked those types of questions.

The rest of the platoon sneered at him.

“We are taking the Citadel because that’s what Lord Valdovar wants. You don’t need any more justification than that.”

Nolan said nothing.

“Your mission objective is to take the Citadel, kill the wizard king, Su Vu Jwon, and take his ring of power. We will take the resources and convert the citizens to soldiers. Are there any questions?”

“What about the gronks?” Someone asked.

Kira had a very simple straightforward answer. “Kill them, before they kill you.”

Nolan leaned into Caleb again. “What are gronks?”

Caleb shrugged.

“I’m not sure how effective this mission briefing is,” Nolan muttered.

Captan Avar glared at him. “Is there something you would like to add, Private Jamison.”

“I was just wondering what gronks are?”

There were chuckles from the rest of the platoon.

Nolan looked perplexed. He didn’t know what was so funny. He had never been off of Sargol, and there were many things about the galaxy that had never been exposed to.

“They’re big and mean and tough to kill,” a Soturi said. “But other than that, they make great pets,” he added with a healthy dose of sarcasm.

“Just one of those things took out Echo platoon,” another Soturi added.

Nolan shared an uneasy glance with Caleb.

Captain Avar wrapped up the mission briefing, and the platoon of Soturi marched to the flight deck.

Several armored troop transports were prepped and ready for launch. These were the same dropships that had invaded Nolan’s home world, and the sight of them sent a chill down his spine. His heart thudded in his chest, and his skin grew cold and clammy. His stomach twisted in knots, and the sour acidic taste of bile crept up in the back of his throat. All of the horrible memories came flooding back. The image of his village smoldering in ruins, and the mangled faces of his friends and loved ones were seared into his mind. He was about to do the same thing to another unsuspecting settlement. The whole thing just stank.

The flight deck was abuzz with crews scurrying about, attending to the dropships, making last-minute adjustments and checks. The rumble of engines echoed off the bulkheads in the cavernous chamber. Dozens of platoons loaded into the various dropships.

Nolan climbed aboard with Thrasher platoon and secured himself in a seat against the bulkhead. Hydraulics whirred as the back ramp shut and locked. The compartment pressurized, and the pilot went through a series of preflight checks, pressing buttons and flicking switches. The instrument panel was aglow with various colors. Shades of blue and green. The light illuminated his face and cascaded across the platoon.

Within moments the pilot throttled up, and Nolan felt the craft lift from the deck. The swarm of gunships launched into space like bees exiting a hive. They spiraled down and angled toward the planet. Nolan didn’t even know the name of the world they were invading, and it didn’t matter. Was it Gamma Hydra? He wasn’t sure. Valdovar was moving from world to world, taking what he wanted, destroying settlements that had stood for centuries. Some targets were along valuable supply lines for the Republic, while others seem to have no military value whatsoever. There was almost no method to his madness.

A full-scale invasion usually wasn’t necessary once the capital city, or most populated area, was decimated. Other areas surrendered, not wanting to meet with the same fate. Valdovar and the Star Legion were moving through the galaxy, slowly but surely taking territories away from the Republic. And the Republic was stretched far too thin to do much about it.

The dropship rumbled and quaked as it entered the the atmosphere. The bulkheads rattled from the turbulence. Most of the platoon seemed jovial, cracking jokes and bragging about previous conquests. They were venting nervous energy. As the ship drew closer to the target, an eerie silence fell over the cabin. Faces grew hard. The impending battle was close at hand.

17

The metal ships of death descended through the clouds, heading toward the Citadel. Smaller, more nimble gunships led the way.

The shiny Citadel lay ahead, embedded into the mountainside. The jagged snowcapped peaks offered the perfect natural protection. The verdant valley below led to the walls of the Citadel like a giant welcome mat. It was picturesque and serene, but it wasn’t going to stay that way for long.

The dropships slowed, then hovered at a distance, waiting for the aerial assault of the gunships to begin. The gunships advanced, attempting to soften up the spell shield that surrounded the entire Citadel. As they got into range, giant cannons mounted on the Citadel walls opened fire. Blistering bolts of energy rocketed across the sky, defending against the invaders.

The gunships responded. A blistering flurry of energy bolts whizzed in both directions. The sky was alive with glowing spikes of death. The gunships pitched and rolled, avoiding the blasts as best they could. But a direct hit incinerated one of them, turning the mighty ship into a twisted, molten ball of flame.

The smoldering fuselage fell from the sky and crashed to the valley below. Shards of metal and debris sprayed in all directions. The impact caused a secondary explosion. Flames roared into the air, and black smoke billowed into the sky. The first wave of the Imperial attack was practically useless. The spell shield that protected the Citadel repelled everything the gunships threw at it.

The squadron of gunships pulled up, avoiding the peaks of the mountains as the rocketed over the Citadel and banked around for another pass. Heavy anti-aircraft cannons followed them, launching an almost continuous stream into the sky.

Nolan caught glimpses of the action through the front viewport of his dropship. It was pure chaos. It was easy to see how the previous attempt to take the Citadel had gone wrong. Gunships were dropping from the sky at an alarming rate.

From a low orbit around the planet, the dreadnought blasted its cannons, attempting to make pinpoint strikes from space. Powerful bolts of energy shot down through the atmosphere and slammed into the spell shield. With each impact, the normally invisible shield glowed blue, outlining its form.

The massive bursts from the dreadnought didn’t have precision and accuracy. Some of the impacts slammed into the valley or mountainside, erupting in huge geysers of rock, dirt, and debris.

The onslaught wasn’t sustainable. Each blast from the dreadnought required a great deal of energy, and would require a considerable recharge time. The initial flurry of blasts lasted a few moments, then stopped.

Soon, both the cannons from the Citadel, and the gunships were drained of power. The spell shield was considerably weakened.

The dropships moved in, continuing to pummel the spell shield until they too ran out of power. Then the steel ships of doom landed in the green valley. Heat distorted under the massive thrusters as the heavy vehicles landed. Ramps lowered, and platoons of Soturi stormed out of the dropships and advanced across the battlefield.

A barrage of small arms fire from the Citadel rocketed toward the advancing Soturi, taking several of them out before they got more than a few steps.

“Move, move, move!” Captain Avar shouted as her platoon disembarked from the craft. They advanced to a nearby berm and took cover.

As soon as the last of the troops were clear of the vehicles, the dropships lifted back into the air. They were sitting ducks on the ground. Several had burst into flames as the last remaining heavy cannons from the Citadel pummeled them. The explosions showered shrapnel in all directions, slicing through countless Imperial Soturi. Bits of scalding metal punctured armor, tearing through flesh and bone. Screams of agony filled the battlefield. The sharp smell of blood, burning flesh, and the fumes of burning wreckage permeated the air. The once clear sky quickly grew thick with a murky haze.

Just as Captain Avar had said, this battle was going to be fought on the ground and in close combat. Legions of ground troops emerged from the Citadel to defend their territory. They were joined by giant beasts that towered 40 feet in the air. Gronks were giant, troll like creatures with hulking bodies, clad in armor. Large fangs protruded from their mouths, like sabertoothed tigers. They wielded shields and heavy broadswords. One strike could take out an entire platoon of Soturi.

Nolan’s eyes widened at the sight of these beasts. He had never seen anything like them. The troops from the Citadel hovered behind the mammoth creatures as they charged into battle.

The Soturi rifleman focused all their attention on the big behemoths, pummeling them with their spell rifles. But the bolts of energy seemed to have little impact on the hulking creatures, proving to be nothing more than annoying bee stings.

Soon, all the spell rifles and cannons had been depleted. The two ground forces charged at each other. War-cries filled the battlefield. Swords were held high, ready to strike. Citadel warriors were in position to defend. The two armies collided like a freight train, hacking and slashing. It was madness. The big creatures kicked and swiped at the tiny humans, brushing them aside as if they were nothing. This was Nolan’s first battle as an Imperial Soturi, and it was looking like it was going to be his last.

18

The glimmering blade slashed at Nolan. The damn thing had to be at least 15 feet long. It was so heavy, it would take several men to lift. The hulking beast wielded it with ease.

Nolan ducked, and the blade whooshed overhead. It sliced through the air and slammed into the ground, carving the dirt.

Nolan charged forward, running between the gronk’s legs. He stabbed an unprotected portion of the beast’s calf as he passed through.

The creature reacted, kicking Nolan. He was flung into the air and crashed to the ground several meters away. Nolan sprang to his feet, surrounded by several Citadel troopers. He hacked and slashed, clanking blades with his adversaries as they attacked.

Several other members of Nolan’s platoon attacked the troll, occupying his attention, while Nolan fought off the attackers. The clanking and clamoring of swords filled the air.

One of the troopers hacked his heavy blade at Nolan. He blocked overhead, then sliced his blade across the enemy’s torso. It caught the soldier just between the armor, and the razor-sharp blade cut through his abdomen. A torrent of crimson blood spilled from his belly, and the soldier dropped to his knees, clutching his stomach, trying to hold his guts in place as he toppled to the ground.

Nolan spun around and blocked another blow coming from behind. The two exchanged furious attacks while another soldier charged Nolan from the side. His blade slashed down at the unsuspecting warrior, ready to slice him in two. But the enemy’s blade was stayed at the last moment as Caleb blocked with his sword.

Caleb battled the trooper while Nolan continued to fight against his original adversary. He moved with speed and precision, and within moments had thrust his blade into the trooper’s armor. Nolan put his full weight behind the sword as it punctured the man’s abdomen. Nolan used his boot to kick the man from the end of the sword. The sharp blade was dripping with blood. It rang out as he pulled it from the heavy armor. Nolan spun around to assist Caleb, hacking off the enemy soldier’s arm.

The two had a small moment to catch their breath amid the chaotic battlefield. Nolan’s heart pounded, and his chest heaved for breath. Only a few moments into the fight, and he was already drenched with sweat.

Nolan turned his attention back to the troll, who was making short work of the rest of the platoon. He charged toward the beast. Nolan had a plan, but he wasn’t sure it was going to work. At the last moment, he activated the thrusters in his boots and launched into the air. He was a little surprised he actually got them to work. Perhaps the heat of battle focused his attention.

The lift boots were only good for vertical ascension. There were no fine controls, and the thrusters offered no real directional mobility, only stabilized vertical lift. They acted like a springboard, catapulting Nolan up. He clasped onto the troll’s belt, and hung on for dear life as the big beast flailed and swatted at him. A mammoth hand brushed past Nolan, almost knocking him off.

Nolan managed to twist out of the way in the nick of time. He clung onto the beast’s backplate of armor and climbed up his spine. He grabbed hold of the gronk’s collar and hung on, dangling between the troll’s shoulder blades.

Thrasher platoon continued to attack the beast. With his attention split between them, and swatting at Nolan, his effectiveness was greatly decreased.

Nolan drew his sword and stabbed it into the back of the troll’s neck. He thrust with all his might, pushing the razor-sharp blade between layers of muscle and fascia. He wedged the sword in between the beast’s cervical vertebrae, severing the spinal cord. The hulking behemoth instantly collapsed, falling face forward onto the ground. The impact rumbled like an earthquake, shaking the ground beneath the feet of Thrasher platoon.

It was a long way to the ground, and Nolan felt like he had been dropped out of a four story window. All of the air rushed out of his lungs upon impact, and his whole body stung with pain.

The members of Thrasher platoon cheered as the mighty beast fell. Nolan pulled himself up, then yanked his sword from the creature’s neck.

One down, three more to go.

19

Bodies lay strewn across the battlefield, seeping crimson blood into the soft green grass. Swords clanked and clamored as the battle raged on. Both sides had taken heavy casualties. It was easy to see why Valdovar’s forces failed at taking the Citadel the first time. The defenders were skilled warriors and fought with the heart and determination only found in someone fighting for their survival.

Thrasher platoon had managed to slay another troll. But two remained, wreaking havoc on the invading forces. Right about now Nolan wished he had his crossbow and some spell arrows. The crossbow was slow to reload, but it had always been effective, and seemingly more reliable than a spell rifle.

Nolan and Caleb tried to flank the towering creature, but it kept shifting and pivoting, well aware of Nolan’s tactic. The angry beast swatted at the invading Soturi, hacking and slashing with his sword. The mammoth blade sliced through armor like it were soft fruit, cutting Soturi in two. Each lumbering step the creature took shook the ground. If something didn’t change quickly, this invasion attempt was going to fail as well.

Nolan’s sheathed his sword and squared off against the creature.

Caleb watched with disbelief. “What are you doing?”

Nolan ducked as the giant troll slashed at him with his mammoth blade. The razor-sharp metal whooshed overhead. The blow from the troll’s blade could be devastating, but the weapon was slow and unwieldy due to its size and weight. By the time the gronk struck, Nolan could shift positions and be somewhere else. His constant zigging and zagging and dodging and weaving frustrated the creature. He growled at Nolan, bearing his rotten fangs. His foul breath hit Nolan in the face like a wet gust from a marshy swamp.

Nolan drew a dagger from his utility belt and gripped it by the blade. He took aim and heaved it at the creature. The blade tumbled end over end as it rocketed toward the troll. The sharp point embedded perfectly into the creature’s left eye.

The mammoth beast instantly dropped his sword and clutched his face. Blood trickled down between his fingers streaming down his cheek. The creature wailed in agony as it flailed about, half blind.

The rest of Thrasher platoon took this opportunity to attack the troll, stabbing its calves with their swords. With one hand still clutching his wounded eye, the troll tried to swipe at his attackers. But he was less effective than he had been. In a fit of frustration, the troll attempted to pull the dagger from his eye. In doing so he removed his eyeball which was skewered on the end of the blade. A horrible squeal emanated from the creature’s massive lungs.

By this time, several members of Thrasher platoon had climbed onto the beast stabbing him with their swords.

The beast flailed and swatted for several minutes, finally succumbing to his wounds. Blood seeped from multiple punctures, and the loss of blood caused the lumbering creature to collapse. The ground rumbled as he slammed into the dirt.

Thrasher platoon roared with victory. But there was still one more of these creatures to go, and countless Citadel warriors.

The chaotic battlefield continued to rage. Nolan clashed swords with swarms of enemy soldiers as he fought near the fallen troll. The once green grass was now a reddish-brown muck of blood and guts. Grunts and groans and moans of agony filled the air. Out of the corner of his eye, Nolan saw the last gronk fall as Punisher platoon took the beast down.

The Imperial Soturi kept pushing forward, moving toward the Citadel walls. The valley had turned into a sea of corpses. The Imperial Soturi had carved their way through the enemy warriors and were about to storm the fortress itself. Though the spell shield had been considerably weakened, it was still functional. None of the aerial vehicles were able to penetrate the magical barrier. But the ground troops were able to advance on foot. Passing through the barrier was like moving through a membrane. It would resist hard impacts, but slow steady pressure allowed the Soturi to permeate the shield. The bigger the object, the more resistance encountered.

High atop the battlements, Citadel troopers fired spell arrows from crossbows. The blistering bolts pelted the oncoming Soturi mercilessly. They had to run out of arrows at some point, Nolan thought. But the barrage continued.

Seemingly out of nowhere, more Citadel warriors appeared, flanking the battalion of invading Soturi. Nolan clashed with his foes, blocking their strikes with his sword. Each blow sent a bone jarring rattle down his forearm. His hand ached. His arms were sore and tired. They felt like rubber. He was drenched in sweat, and his chest heaved for breath.

Nolan didn’t see where the new attackers came from, but they had to have emerged from secret passageways within the mountainside. Nolan continued to defend against the flanking attack. With each strike, the blade of his sword seemed to grow heavier. He slashed, chopped, and stabbed his enemies. Thrasher platoon held the flanking Citadel forces at bay. But it didn’t come without a heavy cost. Several members were skewered by enemy blades. Limbs were severed. Heads decapitated. What started out as a battalion of 500 men was down to no more than 250. But the Imperial losses paled in comparison to the number of Citadel forces that lay strewn across the battlefield.

It took some grit and determination, but the Soturi managed to stave off the flanking attacks. Their full attention was now on storming the walls of the fortress.

Soturi activated their lift boots. Thrusters in the soles of their boots launched them vertically up the towering walls of the Citadel. Several Soturi were taken out in mid-air by enchanted arrows. Others cleared the parapet and took the fight to the walkway atop the battlements. There was no telling how many troops were inside the Citadel.

Nolan watched as the Soturi swarmed the Citadel walls, rocketing up to engage the enemy.

“What are you waiting for,” Tanc yelled. “Get up there!”

Nolan hesitated. Not out of fear, but a frontal assault wasn’t exactly advantageous. There had to be a better way into the Citadel, and Nolan wanted to find it.

20

Nolan charged up the foothills at the base of the mountain, searching for signs of the secret passageway. He heard Tanc’s gruff voice crackle in his comm link. “Where the hell are you going? I gave you a direct order, Private Jamison. Storm the Citadel!”

“That’s what I’m doing, Sergeant Krom.”

“It looks like you’re running away like a coward to me.” Tanc chased after him.

The incline grew steep, then became a challenge to ascend. Nolan slowed, and so did Sergeant Krom. Nolan finally reached the area where he suspected the Citadel forces had emerged. His eyes scanned the rocky terrain. He knew there had to be an entrance here somewhere. But it was completely obscured.

Caleb had followed the two up the hill.

Sergeant Krom tackled Nolan, grabbing him from behind. The two crashed to the dirt. In the blink of an eye, the tip of Tanc’s sword was at Nolan’s throat, poking between the narrow space between his helmet and chest plate. “I should cut your throat right now,” Tanc grumbled. “Get down there and fight with the rest of the platoon you pansy.”

Nolan batted Tanc’s sword away with his blade, then he kicked the big oaf from atop him. Tanc tumbled aside and rolled back down the hill. He finally stopped his momentum, climbed to his feet, and charged back up the slope.

Nolan sprang to his feet, continuing to look for the entryway. His eyes caught sight of an unusually large stone slab. It fit in with the rest of the terrain, but somehow seemed different. Nolan raced to the slab and tried to heave it aside. The massive rock was more than any man could move. Caleb joined in, grunting and straining. It would take a dozen men to move this boulder an inch. From the corner of his eye, Nolan could see Tanc charging at him. Nolan was sure this was an entryway, but he was going to look like a fool if he couldn’t get the slab to budge. There had to be some kind of mechanism to open it.

Nolan frantically searched around, looking for a lever or actuator that might trigger the slab to open. There were a series of faint markings etched into the stone. They were almost imperceptible. Small hieroglyphics. Nolan placed his hand over the markings. He didn’t know why, the idea just popped into his head. It seemed natural. Suddenly, he felt the palm of his hand grow warm, and a slight glow of energy radiated between his hand and the stone. The massive slab slid aside, revealing the passageway that bore deep into the mountainside.

“How did you do that?” Caleb asked.

Nolan shrugged.

Tanc arrived just as the passageway revealed itself. He had planned on pummeling Nolan, but that didn’t seem appropriate anymore. Instead, Tanc just scowled at him. It was hard to tell if he was more frustrated with Nolan for failing to obey an order, or because Nolan had been right.

Tanc shouted into his comm line, “Captain Avar, I found a passageway into the Citadel. Send the rest of Thrasher platoon this way.”

Nolan gritted his teeth, disgusted by the big oaf taking credit.

Caleb rolled his eyes.

Tanc pointed his sword at Nolan’s throat again. “Don’t you ever disobey another order. You understand me?”

“Yes, Sergeant.”

Captain Avar arrived with the rest of Thrasher platoon. Punisher and Crusher platoons joined them, while the rest of the battalion maintained its frontal assault.

“Nice work,” Captain Avar said to Tanc.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Take point,” she commanded.

Tanc looked astonished. He had no desire to be the first one to charge into a dark passageway. “Excuse me, sir?”

“You found the entrance. Now lead us to victory.”

“Yes, sir,” Tanc grumbled.

Nolan and Caleb couldn’t help but grin.

With his sword drawn, Tanc marched into the passageway. The rest of the platoon followed.

“Move! Move! Move!” Captain Avar shouted.

Nolan and Caleb followed the swarm of troops into the dim passageway. The obsidian black walls were illuminated by flickering blue flames that emanated from wall sconces. It was eerie and unnatural. It didn’t take long for the Soturi to encounter a few Citadel guards in the passageway.

Swords clashed, echoing off the tunnel walls. The Soturi quickly overwhelmed the small number of guards.

The tunnel weaved through solid rock, traveling underneath the walls of the Citadel. The Soturi stormed into the court, taking the Citadel forces by surprise. There were, at most, two platoons of troopers remaining to guard the Citadel. The majority of forces had been deployed in the initial standoff. It left the interior of the fortress vulnerable. By this time, the frontal assault had taken over the battlements and hordes of Soturi were descending into the court. The remaining Citadel forces were quickly overwhelmed.

The Soturi stormed through the Citadel in their usual fashion, wreaking havoc and chaos among the citizenry. Several civilians attempted to resist, but they were met with swift and violent action.

Nolan gritted his teeth. His face flushed with anger as he watched the Soturi devastate the Citadel just as they had done to his homeland. The air was filled with shrieks of pain and terror and wails of agony. Blood splattered. Guts spilled into the street. Limbs were severed. Swords sliced flesh, exposing muscle, tendons, ivory bone, and gristle. It was one thing to fight against armed soldiers, quite another to slay unarmed civilians, and Nolan wanted no part of it.

21

“To the keep!” Captain Avar yelled.

Thrasher platoon marched toward the stronghold. Su Vu Jwon would have likely fortified himself in the Great Hall. A platoon or two of his personal guards would likely be inside, ready to make a last stand.

As the Soturi approached, enchanted arrows from slits within the keep rocketed toward the invaders. The reign of glowing projectiles took out several members of Thrasher platoon, piercing armor, sending the warriors crashing to the ground.

Nolan used his shield to deflect the enchanted arrows as he marched forward, but one of them pierced the armor. It drilled through the shield and streaked inches away from Nolan’s face. These arrows were made with powerful magic.

Nolan cast his shield aside as it was useless against the superior firepower. He continued to storm forward, twirling his blade, using it to deflect the oncoming bolts with precise accuracy. It was impressive to watch. His skill with the blade far exceeded anyone in Thrasher platoon, even that of Captain Avar.

The platoon inched forward, taking cover as best they could. A blistering arrow careened through the air, headed straight for Captain Avar. She attempted to bat it away with her shield, but it pierced the armor plating, boring through the metal, narrowly missing her flesh by inches.

Another bolt streaked in her direction. There was no way she could react in time. Nolan moved with lightning speed, blocking the bolt with his blade. He had stopped the enchanted arrow less than a foot from Kira’s face. The arrow bounced away with a clang and fizzled on the ground.

Kira’s eyes were wide with terror. She exhaled with relief and gave Nolan a nod of thanks.

The Soturi continued to storm the keep. At the main entrance, a Soturi jammed his sword into the heavy wooden door. Each enchanted sword’s ability was different. This particular blade acted like a cutting torch. The Soturi sliced through the thick material like it were butter. He carved a rectangle large enough to fit through, then kicked it open. The Soturi poured into the keep and charged the Great Hall.

It was a cavernous space with vaulted ceilings and two rows of Doric columns that ran the length of the hall. The ceiling was ornately decorated. Rows of statues in between the columns created a path to the throne. They were detailed sculptures of warriors, chronicling the history of the Citadel, depicting each of its rulers.

The Soturi clashed with the last of the Citadel forces. Swords clanked and clamored. Armor rattled. The air was filled with grunts and groans and war cries. The sounds of metal blades puncturing flesh, slicing through bone, and eviscerating organs filled the chamber. The Soturi were fighting Su Vu Jwon’s elite guards. These were the toughest and most skilled warriors that Valdovar’s Soturi had encountered yet. They put up a hell of a fight.

Nolan was exhausted. His sword felt like it had tripled in weight. He hefted it through the air with all his might, blocking and stabbing. He twirled and slashed and gashed. Despite his exhaustion, he continued to fight with skill and precision, neutralizing every opponent that attacked him. He plowed through the remaining platoon like a hurricane, leaving a wake of devastation. Nolan emerged from the forest of fallen soldiers and squared off against Su Vu Jwon.

The Great Hall was silent. All of the Citadel warriors were either dead or wounded. Su Vu Jwon was a powerful wizard and wasn’t going to go down without a fight. He stood at the end of the Great Hall, gripping his sword. The horde of Soturi crept forward with caution, not sure of the power that Su Vu Jwon wielded.

Slowly, the horde of Soturi closed the gap.

With the wave of his hand, the wizard sent the entire company of Soturi crashing to the ground. It was like they had been hit with an invisible wave. The force knocked them from their feet, launching them several yards back. Some were slammed against walls, knocked unconscious with concussions.

Nolan felt like the wind had been smacked out of him. He shook it off and staggered to his feet. But before he was fully upright, a glowing ball of energy was streaking toward him. The wizard had summoned the energy in his palm and sidearmed it across the Great Hall. It blazed between the two rows of columns, between the onlooking sculptures of past warriors, heading straight for Nolan.

He barely had time to react. His eyes widened with a mix of awe and terror. He had never seen anything like it before. It was powerful magic indeed. Nolan twirled his sword and deflected the ball of energy in the nick of time. It dissipated as it impacted his spell blade. Before he could catch his breath, another was on the way.

Nolan was the only one standing. The others were still gaining their wits about them. Nolan deflected the second attack then rushed to take cover behind the nearest pillar.

The wizard flicked his wrist again, sending an invisible force in Nolan’s direction. Once again it leveled the Soturi who were barely climbing to their feet. It was like an invisible wall crushing them, flattening the company like dominoes.

Nolan made himself slim behind the column. It seemed to protect him from the wizard’s force. He lobbed energy balls at Nolan as fast as he could summon them. They impacted the column, showering bits of marble and debris. Each impact chipped away at the massive column until it snapped, toppling like a great redwood tree.

The column tilted slowly at first, then gained momentum. It plummeted to the ground. Nolan dashed to the next column as the pillar hit the floor, shattering into thousands of pieces. Dust and debris filled the air. Fragments of the ceiling collapsed and tumbled down, crushing some of the Soturi. Before the company could stand, the wizard hit them with another force wave.

Nolan wasn’t sure how the wizard’s power worked, but the column continued to protect him from the invisible wave. Su Vu Jwon could control the air. He had full command of the elements.

With the flick of his wrist, the wizard created a wall of fire between himself and the company of Soturi, separating himself and Nolan from the rest of the warriors. Amber flames rose to the ceiling, dancing wildly. The orange glow bathed the Great Hall in a warm light, flickering and crackling.

It was just Nolan and the wizard now. No one was coming to help him.

22

The wizard continued to pummel the column with balls of energy as fast as he could. It didn’t take long for the massive pillar to crumble, tumbling down. The ground shook as the towering column slammed against the floor, showering debris in all directions. One of the statues toppled over as the column fell on top of it. More chunks of the ceiling collapsed.

Nolan dashed for cover behind another statue. But this time the wizard didn’t attack. He held the ball of energy in his palm but he didn’t throw it. At first, Nolan didn’t understand why. Then the realization came over him. The statue he was hiding behind was of Su Vu Jwon himself.

Instinct led Nolan to believe the statue held significance. He reared his sword back and swung with all his might. The razor-sharp blade severed the statue’s legs, toppling it from its pedestal. It slammed to the ground, breaking one of the arms.

The wizard fell at the same time.

Nolan lifted his sword overhead by the hilt and stabbed down into the heart of the statue. It shattered into pieces. Nolan’s eyes glanced to the wizard who lay dead in the center of the Great Hall.

The wall of flames that had kept the rest of the company at bay vanished.

Nolan stepped from behind the pedestal and marched to the wizard’s body. The rest of the Soturi cheered and hollered as Nolan hovered victorious over the wizard’s corpse.

Crimson blood oozed into the marble floor from the gash in Su Vu Jwon’s chest. It was as if Nolan had stabbed him directly.

Nolan didn’t feel like a hero. His heart ached with regret. He knew nothing of this wizard, or the people of the Citadel. He held no animosity toward them. He was a mere tool of destruction for Valdovar. Maybe, over time, it would get easier. Perhaps he would go numb to the sensation. But the thought of serving the Dark Lord for the next 20 years sat in his stomach like acid.

Captain Avar lifted the visor to her helmet as she stepped to the corpse of Su Vu Jwon. Her blue eyes glimmered with excitement. “Nice work, Private Jamison!”

“Thank you, sir,” Nolan said in a toneless voice. No one had seen how he defeated the wizard. The wall of flames had obscured the battle.

“I don’t know how you did that,” Kira said. “But it deserves recognition.” She knelt down and snatched the Ring of Zutaal from Jwon’s finger. She gazed at it as if she was holding a precious jewel. Valdovar wanted the ring, along with Jwon’s head.

“Take the body back to the dreadnought,” Kira said. She slung her arm over Nolan’s shoulder. “Valdovar will be pleased.”

She turned her attention to the rest of the company. She displayed Nolan proudly. “This is what I expect out of all of you. His first mission, and he puts some of you veterans to shame.” Kira’s eyes fell disapprovingly upon some of her seasoned NCOs.

Tanc grimaced. His eyes blazed into Nolan.

Kira patted Nolan on the back. “Tonight, we celebrate!”

The Great Hall erupted with cheers.

Nolan forced a grim smile. He tried to put the events in perspective. Just stay alive, keep fighting, and maybe one day he would get close enough to Valdovar to exact his revenge. He was going to have to block all other thoughts out of his mind. Killing Valdovar was the only way to spare countless other civilizations. The free galaxy was at stake. If he had to do some distasteful things to achieve that end, perhaps it was ultimately worth it. Still, it was a bitter pill to swallow.

Commander Xule stormed into the Great Hall with a disappointed look on his face. He, and his company, had stormed the Citadel the old-fashioned way. They had scaled the walls of the fortress and arrived to the party a little late. He had hoped to take victory for himself and bask in the Emperor’s praise.

“Victory is ours,” Captain Avar shouted.

“I see,” Xule said, trying his best to hide his scowl.

“Give me the wizard’s ring. I will present it to Lord Valdovar myself.”

Kira’s face tensed. “There’s only one person presenting the ring to Lord Valdovar. That’s the man who took it from the wizard.” Kira gently ushered Nolan into Xule’s view. “If you have a problem with that, we can take it up with Lord Valdovar himself.”

Xule glared at her, but he knew better than to make an enemy of Captain Avar, despite the fact that he outranked her. She could be cunning and treacherous, and she had the loyalty of the Soturi. Xule may have had command of the Legion, but he was despised by all.

“Let us all enjoy the spoils of victory,” Kira shouted in a cheerful voice.

The company of Soturi erupted with more cheer. Hoots and hollers echoed off the vaulted ceiling of the Great Hall.

Commander Xule ordered several Soturi to secure the area and plunder any resources. Kira and the rest of Thrasher platoon marched through the streets of the Citadel toward the main gate. Bodies lay strewn everywhere. Rivers of blood trickled through the gutters. Citizens wept and moaned over the corpses of their loved ones. It was a devastating site. One that made Nolan’s stomach turn.

Kira seemed unaffected.

“Doesn’t this bother you, sir?” Nolan asked in a tentative voice.

Kira’s sharp eyes met his. “What do you mean?”

“All this death and destruction. These innocent people.”

“I stopped letting that affect me a long time ago. You may find this all distasteful. And it is. But disobeying Lord Valdovar is not conducive to one’s longevity.” Kira could see that her answer didn’t quite satisfy Nolan. “It’s best to put it out of your mind. Do your time in service to the Emperor and have a chance at life. I guarantee you, if we weren’t here fighting this battle for Lord Valdovar, someone else would be. There are just some things you can’t change.” Kira smiled, hoping to lift Nolan’s spirits. “You’ve won a great victory. Enjoy the moment. Tomorrow holds no promises.”

Nolan sighed with resignation. Tomorrow held no guarantees, and he knew it. He was lucky he made it through today.

The skies were filled with Imperial ships. The wizard’s death had brought down the spell shield. The Soturi marched through the front gates and loaded into the dropships waiting outside the Citadel.

One by one, the vessels lifted from the blood-soaked ground, angling to space, rocketing back to the dreadnought. Despite the heavy casualties, the mood on Nolan’s dropship was lively. The surviving members of Thrasher platoon congratulated one another and recalled the heroics of the battle.

Nolan sat in his seat with a solemn face.

“So, tell us, Nolan. How did you take down the wizard?” a Soturi asked.

Nolan shrugged. “Just lucky, I guess.”

There were boos and jeers of disappointment.

“Come on. Don’t hold back. That’s valuable tactical information,” another Soturi said.

There were chuckles among the platoon.

“Does a magician tell you how he does his tricks?” Nolan asked.

There were more jeers.

“You are no magician,” a Soturi said.

“To take down a great wizard all on his own…? Seems like a magician to me,” Kira said.

23

“Are you nervous?” Kira asked.

“Why would I be nervous?” Nolan responded.

“Most people are when in the presence of Lord Valdovar.”

Nolan was outwardly calm. But inside, his heart raced, and his stomach churned. His skin felt alive, and adrenaline coursed through his veins. This was his opportunity. He was moments away from being up close and personal with the Dark Lord. With his sword at his side, a simple attack could kill the evil ruler, under normal circumstances. But there was nothing normal about the circumstance. He had sworn a magical oath of allegiance to Valdovar. Assassinating the Dark Lord was impossible. No weapon that Valdovar had enchanted could harm him. And he personally used his magic to enchant all the weaponry afforded to his troops. Now was not the time to strike.

Nolan and Kira stood in the corridor outside of Valdovar’s throne room, preparing to present the ring to him. Two of his Royal guards stood beside the hatch, protecting the entryway to his chamber.

Nolan gazed at the ring. In a hushed voice he asked, “Why does he want this?”

Kira’s eyes cautiously flicked to the guards. They didn’t appear to be listening. They stood, unmoving, with eyes faced forward. Nothing could ever distract them. But they were well within earshot, and were probably clinging on every word.

Kira chose her words carefully and spoke in an almost inaudible voice.

“There are several objects that Valdovar seeks that hold great power. If you hadn’t noticed, he doesn’t like to take any chances. Those who possess these objects can pose a threat to him.”

“How do you know this?”

“I’ve been around for a little while. I hear things.” Kira’s eyes flicked to the guards again.

“What else have you heard?”

Kira eyed Nolan suspiciously. “What concern is it of yours?”

She was hard to read. She’d been captured and enslaved like the rest of the warriors. Worked her way up through the ranks. She seemed loyal to Valdovar, but surely she had no love for him?

Nolan shrugged. “Just curious I guess.”

“You know what they say about curiosity,” Kira said with a coy grin.

“Where are you from, sir?”

“Again, I don’t see how that’s any of your concern.”

Nolan look frustrated.

“Let’s not keep the Emperor waiting. Shall we?” Kira ushered Nolan along.

One of the Royal guards pressed a button on the bulkhead and the hatch slid open. The two guards stepped aside and let Kira and Nolan enter.

The compartment was befitting of royalty. It was elegantly decorated. At the end of a long chamber, Valdovar was seated upon the throne atop a riser. Commander Xule stood on one side of the throne, and a beautiful blonde haired young woman stood on the other. She wore a white gown and had flawless skin, high cheekbones and sparkling blue eyes. Nolan’s eyes were instantly drawn to her. She was gorgeous, and radiated beauty. She was an odd sight standing next to the hideous Emperor.

“Try not to stare,” Kira said, dryly.

Nolan’s eyes quickly darted away from the woman and focused on Valdovar as the two approached the throne. They walked down an aisle made by rows of Soturi standing in formation.

“Kneel when you reach the riser,” Kira whispered out of the side of her mouth. She forced a smile, and beamed it at the Emperor. “Try to look excited,” she muttered.

All eyes were upon them.

Commander Xule scowled at the two as they knelt before the throne.

Nolan cupped the ring in his hands and extended it toward Valdovar.

The Dark Lord rose from his throne and casually stepped forward. The hall was silent as he stepped down the riser and stood in front of Kira and Nolan. He took the ring from Nolan’s outstretched hands. His eyes glimmered as he surveyed the precious ring. A slight grin curled on his demonic face, revealing his razor-like teeth. He slid the ring on his finger and beamed with joy as he marveled at it. “You may rise.”

Nolan and Kira stood eye to eye with the demon. Nolan tried his best to contain his hatred. With every fiber of his being he wanted to draw his sword and plunge it into the Dark Lord. Nolan was almost trembling with rage.

“Well done,” Valdovar said.

“Thank you, my Lord.”

Valdovar reached out and put an approving hand on Nolan’s shoulder. “I’m told you single-handedly defeated Su Vu Jwon?”

“That’s not exactly true, my Lord.”

Valdovar arched a curious eyebrow.

“The victory belongs to the entire battalion. Without their efforts, this victory would not be possible. I was in the right place the right time, and fortune favored me.”

Valdovar seemed impressed with his modesty. “A good leader is confident, yet humble. He understands and respects his troops. He earns their admiration. I think you have the makings of a great leader.”

“Thank you, my Lord.”

Valdovar addressed the entire battalion. “If I had 100 men with the spirit of this private, the galaxy would be mine. Let this man’s service and attitude be a lesson to you all.”

The battalion answered in unison. “Yes, my Lord!”

Commander Xule was seething. He had wanted to claim this victory for his own.

Nolan’s eyes couldn’t help but flick to the woman beside the throne again. Her mesmerizing gaze was fixed on Nolan. He realized he was staring and quickly looked away.

Valdovar noticed. He leaned in close to Nolan’s ear. He could feel the Emperor’s hot breath on his skin. Nolan was sure he had angered the Emperor.

“My daughter is a sight to behold, is she not?”

Nolan wasn’t quite sure how to answer. He felt like anything he said could be wrong. He was bewildered—how could such a sublime creature come from anything so hideous as Valdovar.

“Yes, my Lord.”

Valdovar chuckled. He circled Nolan and Kira like a proud parent. “Captain Avar,” he said in a commanding voice.

Kira snapped her body stiff. “Yes, my Lord?”

“Your unit continues to succeed where others have failed. Perhaps I should put you in charge of my forces.” Valdovar slid his diabolical gaze to Commander Xule. It was clear he was displeased with Xule’s underperformance as of late.

The commander quivered. He forced an apologetic smile through gritted teeth.

“I would be honored, my Lord,” Kira said. “But I will leave that up to your best judgment.” She knew the mere statement was going to further stress her already tense relationship with Xule. He would find ways to make life miserable for Kira.

The chamber was silent a moment.

Valdovar climbed the riser. He spun around and stood before his throne and addressed the battalion. “What is a victory without a celebration? Let us rejoice!”

The hall erupted with cheers.

Once again, Valdovar’s daughter’s eyes fell upon Nolan. His eyes flicked to meet hers. She smiled and batted her eyelashes. Nolan quickly looked away. Flirting with the Emperor’s daughter certainly wouldn’t be a good idea.

24

“Is that all you’ve got?” Kira slurred as she hovered over an empty shot glass.

Nolan looked at her with bloodshot eyes. He had imbibed more alcohol in one sitting and he had ever done before.

Soturi had been congratulating him all night, wanting to drink a shot with the hero. The massive hall was filled with the sound of revelry. Glasses clinked, and loud boisterous voices rumbled in the sea of chatter. The victory celebration was in full effect. And for Nolan, the ship was practically spinning. “I think I’ve had enough.”

“Nonsense,” Kira said. “There is no such thing as enough.” She grabbed the bottle from atop the table and filled their shot glasses once again. She slammed the bottle back down, then raised her glass to toast. “To victory!”

Nolan fumbled for his glass, then raised it in the air. “To victory,” he mumbled.

Kira put the shot glass to her plush lips and tipped it back. The amber liquid flowed over her tongue. Even after several shots, the potent liquor still burned. She swallowed it down, then gasped, “Ahhh!”

Nolan tossed the shot over his shoulder, then slammed the glass on the table, hoping Kira wouldn’t notice.

Caleb was passed out, head down on the table, drool running from his lips.

“We may have won the battle,” Nolan said, “but I think tomorrow, this liquor is going to kick my ass.”

“Live for the moment. Tomorrow is never guaranteed.”

The two gazed into each other’s eyes for a moment—an inebriated, lustful spark flickering between them.

“Don’t even think about it,” Kira said.

“Think about what?”

“The Emperor’s daughter.”

“Why? Are you jealous?”

Kira scoffed. “Please,” she said, indignantly. “I’m just trying to save you from trouble.”

“She’s not really my type. I mean, she’s mildly attractive,” he said, trying to underplay her beauty.

Kira scoffed again, “Right. She’s gorgeous. But she’s as wicked as Valdovar under that stunning exterior. And, perhaps, equally as powerful.“

“You’re definitely jealous.”

“I have nothing to be jealous about.”

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I can handle a broken heart,” Nolan said.

“I’m talking about physically hurt, moron.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Not that she would have anything to do with a grunt. But she’s a fickle beast. She uses people and discards them. And by discard I mean they’re never seen or heard of again.”

“Is she really his daughter?” Nolan asked, still not able to equate her beauty as stemming from Valdovar.

“Valdovar has many children. She’s the only one he acknowledges.”

Kira paused for a moment. “You’re a grown man. You can make your own decisions. Pursue her, if that’s what you desire.”

“Should I pursue everything I desire?” Nolan said with a flirtatious glint in his eye.

“Life is short. If not now, when?”

Again, Kira was hard to read. Her response was somewhat aloof. Not quite an invitation, but not quite a rebuke. Kira was a good-looking woman. No doubt about it.

Tanc glared at the two of them. His angry scowl had been fixed on Nolan all night. The fact that he was getting close to Kira was like rubbing salt in the wound. There wasn’t a man in Thrasher platoon that didn’t hold a candle of hope for the stunning captain. And Tanc was no exception.

He stormed in their direction, attempting to interrupt their chemistry. “Isn’t it against policy for officers to fraternize with conscripts, sir?”

Kira’s indignant eyes found the jealous NCO. “I’d watch your tone, Sergeant.”

Tanc gritted his teeth.

“I’d be careful. At the rate Private Jamison is going, you might have to salute him one day,” Kira said.

“Never happen. He’s reckless and insubordinate.”

“Why don’t you relax and have a drink, Sergeant?” Kira said. “We’re all having a good time. You should try it. It’s fun.”

“I don’t think he’s capable of having a good time,” Nolan said. He wanted to insult the oafish sergeant, but he thought better of it. Then, after a moment, he just couldn’t resist. “And with a face like that, who can blame him.”

Tanc gnashed his teeth and snarled. He grabbed Nolan, pulling him from his seat. The sergeant spun him around and attempted to throw the private to the deck.

Nolan moved with blistering speed, despite his inebriated state. In a flash, Nolan slammed Tanc to the deck, drew his dagger, and had the point against the oaf’s neck. “I suggest you back off if you know what’s good for you.”

“You’re going to pay for this.” Tanc said in a menacing tone.

A crowd instantly gathered around, and before the fight could proceed any further, Kira pulled Nolan from atop the sergeant.

Tanc sprang to his feet.

“Stand down, Sergeant Krom,” Kira commanded.

Tanc reluctantly backed off.

Kira addressed the crowd, “Alright, nothing to see here. As you were.”

A few of Tanc’s buddies pulled him away, disappearing into the crowd. But his hateful gaze remained on Nolan until he was obscured by other Soturi.

“Well, it’s not a party until somebody gets in a fight,” Kira said with a grin.

“You’re not going to report that, are you, sir?”

Kira chuckled. “I think on a day like today, I can let that slide.”

“Thank you, sir.” The rush of adrenaline had momentarily sobered Nolan up. That was fading now, and the deck felt unsteady beneath his feet. “Nolan glanced to Caleb who was still passed out on the table. “I should probably get him back to his rack.”

“I’ll give you a hand.”

The two lifted Caleb up and tried to wake him. He was semi-conscious, mumbling indecipherable gibberish.

They slung his arms over their shoulders and helped the drunken soldier walk out of the mess hall, his toes dragging against the deck most of the way.

Nolan and Kira escorted Caleb down to medical. It wasn’t a pretty sight. The compartment was loaded with wounded from the day’s battle. There were moans and groans and wails of agony. Flesh was lacerated, exposing meat and bone. Bandages were soaked through, blossoming crimson red. The compartment smelled like death and disinfectant.

Dr. Coleman and several corpsmen were tending to the wounded. They were caring for the most severe cases which also had the best chance for survival. Those too far gone were injected with high doses of pain medication and left to die on their own. It was brutal. But the resources had to be conserved and used wisely.

It was a sobering reality that Nolan and Kira had put out of their minds once they left the battlefield. No warrior wanted to spend too long around the wounded. That kind of thing could get into your head and rattle around for days, months, or even years, taking you out of the game completely. It could make you second-guess yourself, and skittish to fight. Most warriors conditioned themselves to accept the fact that every battle could be the last. But it was still necessary to maintain a sense of invulnerability. How else could one go into battle without the somewhat delusional mindset that they were going to be the one to get through unscathed? No one wanted to deal with that gray area in between life an death—wounded and crippled for life. People lost eyes and limbs and were scarred for life, but the wound of all wounds—a groin wound—was the kind of thing that kept soldiers up at night, praying when they had never prayed before.

Dr. Coleman barked at Kira and Nolan. “What’s the matter with him? He looks perfectly healthy.”

“He’s had a little too much to drink,” Kira stammered. “Perhaps you can give him something to sober him up and keep him from choking in his sleep?”

The doctor rolled his eyes. “Oh, sure, let me just take time away from people who are actually dying. Do you want me to wipe his ass for him too?”

“By the time we finish arguing about this, you could have just given him the shot,” Kira said.

The doctor grumbled to himself as he stormed away.

Kira and Nolan exchanged an uncertain glance. Was he going to help them or not?

The doctor returned a few moments later with an injection gun. He pressed the nozzle up to Caleb’s neck and squeezed the trigger. A vial of clear liquid drained as the gun shot the liquid into Caleb’s system. Almost instantly his eyes rounded, and his head perked up. He glanced around at the carnage, perplexed. His face grew pale with fear. His worried eyes examined his body, looking over his legs and torso. “Have I been injured? What’s happening?”

Kira chuckled. “Relax, Private. You’re fine. You just had a little more liquid celebration than you can handle.”

Caleb looked confused, having no memory of recent events.

“Get him out of here,” the doctor said. “You’re taking up space.”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Kira said with a cute smile and sparkling eyes.

Coleman rolled his eyes and attended to other patients.

Caleb was able to stand on his own now, fully alert. It was like he’d gotten pumped with a high dose of adrenaline.

“I don’t understand,” Caleb said.

“We won the battle. You lost the victory party,” Kira said.

“Oh,” Caleb said, remembering the early portion of the celebration.

“You’re still going to have a hell of a hangover in the morning,” Kira said. “But at least you won’t die from alcohol poisoning tonight. Though, you may wish you had by tomorrow.”

The three of them stepped into the hallway, heading back to their berthing compartments. Caleb seemed to have his normal mental and physical faculties about him. But Nolan and Kira were still three sheets to the wind and listing down the hallway.

“Are you guys okay?” Caleb asked.

“Never better,” Kira said.

They twisted their way through the corridors to Thrasher platoon’s berthing compartment. There was an awkward moment of silence between Kira and Nolan.

Caleb stared at them dumbly.

“That will be all, Private,” Kira said to Caleb.

He looked at her, confused for a moment. Then he realized his presence was no longer needed, or wanted. “Oh, right. Good evening, sir.” He spun around and opened the hatch to the berthing compartment and stepped inside.

Another awkward moment of silence between Nolan and Kira.

“I’m going to need you to debrief me on the specifics of how you defeated Su Vu Jwon today. It will just take a moment.”

Nolan was pretty sure Kira was looking for something a little more than a debriefing.

“Perhaps you should follow me back to my quarters, since this is classified information.”

Nolan translated that as come back to my place and keep your mouth shut about it.

The moment he stepped inside her compartment, her plush lips smashed into his. Nolan was a little surprised, but he wasn’t about to argue.

25

Just as things where about to get hot and heavy, Kira pushed away from Nolan, coming to her senses. “Okay, I think this is a really bad idea. “

“Seems like a good idea to me,” Nolan said, eager to continue.

“The only way this can end is badly. I’m your superior officer, and I could get in a lot of trouble.”

Nolan flashed a sly, seductive grin. “I can keep my mouth shut.”

“Sorry. Maybe in another life.” Kira rubbed her head, starting to sober up.

“Maybe I’ll have to die and be reborn.”

Kira chuckled. “It’s not that I’m not interested.”

“It’s okay. I can see that you’re scared.” Nolan was egging her on.

Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not scared.”

“Whatever you say.” Nolan taunted her.

“Whatever you say, sir.”

Nolan stood at attention with a sly grin. “Whatever you say, sir.”

Kira planted another kiss on his lips. It was too short. “Now get out.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

“And this never happened.”

“Of course, sir.”

Nolan turned to exit the hatch, but Kira wasn’t done with him yet. “Speaking of classified, how did you kill Su Vu Jwon?”

Nolan shrugged. I destroyed the statue of his likeness. It must have held some type of magical connection.”

The wave of realization washed over her face. “His amenkonti.”

“His what?”

“Amenkonti. It means container of the soul. Powerful wizards use them to protect their mortal bodies.”

Nolan got to thinking. ”Does every wizard have an amenkonti?”

“The powerful ones. If a wizard can keep it secret, he can virtually live forever.”

The wheels turned in Nolan’s mind. “Does Valdovar have an amenkonti?”

Kira grew silent. “You shouldn’t ask such questions. One never knows who may be listening.” She paused a moment, then whispered, “Choose your conversations wisely aboard the ship.” Her breathy voice was like velvet.

Kira suddenly pushed him away. “Go. Perhaps we can discuss this again later.”

There was a slight spark in her eyes. Nolan wasn’t quite sure if she meant discussing the amenkonti, or resuming the debriefing.

Nolan slipped out of the compartment, and found his way back to his quarters. Some of the Soturi were passed out in their racks, snoring. Some were still in the mess hall drinking, others were somewhere halfway in between. Nolan staggered to his rack and took off his gear.

“How did your debriefing go,” Caleb asked with a knowing glint in his eyes.

Nolan shrugged and kept a straight face. “I just told her how I killed the wizard. That was it.”

“That was it?” Caleb asked, prying for more.

“That’s it.”

“Nothing happened between you two?” Caleb asked, incredulous.

“Nothing. I did find out something interesting, though.” Nolan said, trying to change the subject.

“I bet you did.”

“Do you know what an amenkonti is?”

Caleb nodded, then his eyes widened. “So that’s how you killed him?”

Caleb was about to say something, but Nolan stopped him. He knew what Caleb was thinking. He was a smart guy. His mind instantly began to wonder where Valdovar’s amenkonti was.

“Not here. Later,” Nolan said.

He climbed into his rack, his mind racing. He couldn’t stop thinking about all the events of the day, and the possibilities that lay ahead. He could still smell Kira’s perfume, and he imagined the feel of her soft smooth skin. He fell asleep with a grin, and his dreams were an odd, nonsensical mix of the day’s events and possible futures.

Morning reveille came all too soon. Nolan’s eyelids felt glued shut. His mouth was like a desert. The throbbing in his temples pounded incessantly. The compartment felt like it was twisting, and his stomach rumbled. Last night was like a blur. He had a vague recollection of the good parts.

Commander Xule stormed into Thrasher platoon’s berthing compartment. The platoon snapped to attention in front of their racks.

“Listen up, scumbags. Captain Avar has been relieved of her command. I’m assuming control of Thrasher platoon.”

Nolan’s face crinkled up perplexed. He wanted to ask why, but he knew better. Did someone see him leaving her quarters last night?

Xule glowered at the Soturi. “You’ve proven yourself worthy to serve under my command. For your sake, I hope you continue to fight with courage and dedication.”

“Yes, sir,” the platoon answered in unison.

“Sergeant Tanc Krom is your new platoon leader. He will answer directly to me, and his word, as mine, is God. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” the platoon answered again in unison.

Nolan cringed. He watched a smug grin curl on Tanc’s lips. His eyes fell on Nolan and filled with a devious glint. Nolan knew there were going to be tough times ahead.

“You’ve got 15 minutes to grab some chow,” Xule barked. “Then I want to see you all in the ready room for a mission briefing.”

Barely audible groans rumbled through the platoon. After last night’s festivities, an operation seemed ill-advised.

“Oh, do I hear objections?” Xule asked.

“No, sir,” the platoon shouted.

“Did you expect the day off?”

There was a slight hesitation. “No, sir.”

“Good. There are no weekends or holidays in my Star Legion. Service is not at your leisure. It’s on command. So you all better suck it up!”

Xule spun around and left the compartment.

“You heard the man,” Tanc shouted. “Move!”

Nolan grimaced. His stomach was rumbling. Caleb looked like he was about to collapse. The rest of the platoon staggered out of the compartment and into the hallway, heading for the mess hall.

Nolan fell in line and scurried toward the exit. Tanc grabbed him out of line and slung him against the bulkhead. “Look you little piece of shit. I better not get any grief out of you. You follow every order I give you, without hesitation, without question. Am I clear?”

“Yes, Sergeant.”

“This is my platoon now. You run off on your own, and I swear to the gods that I’ll frag you myself. You understand me?”

“Yes, sir.”

A diabolical grin curled on his dry lips. “You’re lucky you’re not in the chamber of pain along with Captain Avar.”

“Why did she get reprimanded?”

“Fraternization between officers and conscripts is prohibited. It prejudices good order and discipline.”

Nolan tensed with anger. Tanc must have seen him leaving Captain Avar’s compartment and reported it.

“Get out of here, Jamison!”

“Yes, Sergeant.” Nolan rushed out of the compartment, trying to get to the mess hall in time to shovel a few bites of breakfast into his mouth.

The rumbling in Nolan’s stomach continued. It was debatable whether breakfast made him feel better or worse. His head was still throbbing, and the ground seemed unsteady.

The Soturi staggered into the ready room for the mission briefing. It was like going to work Monday morning after a long hard weekend, and no amount of coffee was going to prepare them for the day.

As Nolan entered the ready room, he could feel an unsettling sensation as the ship jumped across the galaxy. It was like being stretched and pulled and twisted and torn apart. The very fabric of space-time being altered and manipulated. He wasn’t sure how the benders were able to do it, but the mobility of the fleet depended on them.

Commander Xule stood at the front of the ready room. The screen behind him displayed the target—an ancient temple. “We have gathered recent intelligence that the Kataari monks are guarding the Medallion of Saan.

Today, we are going to take it from them.”

“What’s the Medallion of Saan?” Nolan whispered to Caleb.

“You don’t get out much, do you?”

Nolan shrugged.

Xule cleared his throat and glared at the two. “Is there something you would like to share with the rest of this us?”

Nolan hesitated. He wanted to ask Xule, but thought better of it. “No, sir.”

“Then shut up and listen.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Your objective is to storm the temple and secure the medallion. Return it to me, personally. Show no mercy.”

“Sir, is it true what they say about the monks?” one of the Soturi asked.

Xule looked exasperated. “I can assure you, the rumors of their military prowess are greatly exaggerated. There is no army that will not fall before the Lord Valdovar.”

The Soturi cheered.

“We have the element of surprise. We have superior firepower. And we have destiny on our side. The oracle has already foretold of a great victory. We will overwhelm the monks with shock and awe. We will attack from all sides. They won’t know what hit them.” A devious grin curled on Xule’s face. “I’ll see you all on the flight deck in 15 minutes in full battle rattle.”

“Yes, sir,” the company shouted in unison.

The Soturi filed out of the ready room with urgency. Caleb still looked green and sickly. “I’ll tell you, that injection sobered me up last night, but it didn’t do a damn thing for my hangover this morning.”

Nolan chuckled. “You’ve got 15 minutes to pull it together. You don’t want to spew in the dropship.”

The mere thought of hurling made Caleb want to vomit. His stomach rumbled, and his cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk. The sour acidic taste of bile crept up in the back of his throat. Caleb barely managed to swallow it back down. A tortured look twisted on his face. “Thanks for the words of encouragement.”

“What are friends for?”

26

The dropship rattled and quaked as it descended through the upper atmosphere. Caleb’s face was pale and drenched in sweat. His stomach continued to rumble. It was all he could do not to blow chunks. He was hanging on by a thread. Half of the platoon was in the same condition.

Nolan readied himself for battle. He took slow deep breaths, trying to calm his nerves. He felt as though he had guzzled a pot of coffee. His skin buzzed with anxiety. His stomach felt like it was filled with battery acid. He had a bad feeling about this drop. It seemed rushed and ill-conceived. The men were unprepared. Thrasher platoon wasn’t at their best.

The ominous dropship descended through the clouds, and raced over the rugged terrain. Jagged peaks stabbed at the sky. The temple lay ahead, nestled amid the tall spires of rocks. But this was no ordinary temple, and these were no ordinary monks. They were warriors that had been entrusted with the protection of the sacred scrolls for eons. A religious order, immersed in the ways of war. Some said that the Kataari weren’t men, but rather spirits—undead warriors who couldn’t be killed. But that was just the ramblings of individuals with overactive imaginations, Nolan thought. Still, his nerves were aflutter at the notion of fighting yet another powerful magical force.

Xule had only sent three platoons. Perhaps it was a combination of confidence and arrogance? But three platoons against what could be 500 to 1000 warriors definitely put the Soturi at a tactical disadvantage. It was clear Xule wanted to garner some attention with a quick victory. He wanted bragging rights that he took the temple with a small company of men. The only bright side was that failure would make him look inept.

The temple looked majestic perched amid the craggy peaks. Pale blue light from the tri-moons illuminated the terrain. A mission like this should’ve been carried out under cover of absolute darkness. But neither Xule, nor Lord Valdovar, wanted to wait for the cycle of the moons. And with three of them, one was almost always full.

Brilliant bolts of energy arced up from atop a ridge-line as the formation of dropships drew closer to the temple. The blistering spikes of energy looked almost beautiful. Anti-aircraft spell cannons had been mounted amid the peaks. Somehow, the warrior monks knew the Soturi were coming.

The dropships rolled and twisted, attempting to evade the onslaught of cannon fire. Gun turrets on the dropships swiveled into action, unleashing a furious cascade of hell on the anti-aircraft weapons. The bolts impacted the area, showering rock and debris in all directions.

There were multiple spell cannons positioned along the approach to the temple. It was way more defensive firepower than had been anticipated. The sky ignited with a flurry of cannon fire, coming from all directions. The glowing projectiles crisscrossed in the air as the dropships attempted to evade destruction. The increased aerial acrobatics did nothing for Caleb’s stomach.

The massive spell bolts clipped Crusher platoon’s dropship. The blast incinerated the starboard engine and cut a groove through the hull. The thruster exploded in a brilliant ball of amber flames. Black smoke billowed into the sky, leaving a trail behind as the craft spiraled out of control. Sparks showered in all directions.

The dropships were like flying tanks, and even the loss of a single thruster was enough to bring a craft out of balance. The flaming hunk of metal plummeted toward the rugged terrain. Within moments, it smacked the edge of the mountain range and exploded in a devastating rage. Bits of twisted metal and debris were strewn everywhere. The platoon inside the ship was charred to a crisp. It was the type of wreckage that no one could survive.

The mission was off to an ominous start.

The pilots called in space-strikes from the dreadnought’s massive spell cannons. With a glance, a pilot could instantly select and paint a target. The optical targeting system in the pilots’ flight helmets allowed for precision accuracy.

Moments later, several massive energy projectiles slammed down on the anti-aircraft weapons. The bolts plummeted through the atmosphere, annihilating their targets. But each shot took a considerable amount of power. Soon, the barrage of fire from the dreadnought petered out. The crisscross of energy bolts in the sky ceased.

The two dropships that remained made their approach to the temple. Small arms fire vaulted into the sky as the dropships circled the ancient structure. Turrets swiveled into position, and the dropships’ cannons targeted the riflemen on the ground. The heavy cannons pulverized the ancient structure, showering chips of stone and billowing clouds of debris. There was no spell shield protecting the structure—only the warrior monks. Care had to be taken not to damage the temple to the point where the Medallion of Saan could be compromised.

“I’ll put you boys down behind that ridge-line,” the pilot shouted over the roar of the engines. “That will give you some cover. There’s no telling what these maggots have in store for you guys.”

“How did they know we were coming?” a Soturi asked.

No one seemed to have the answer to that.

The dropships touched down. The back ramps lowered, and the platoons of Soturi spilled onto the ground. The moment the last boot hit the ground, the iron birds lifted into the air and circled the structure from high above, providing close air support.

The Soturi scurried to the ridge and dove onto their bellies, flattening themselves against the ground. As anticipated, a barrage of small arms fire sprayed in their direction. Enchanted projectiles whizzed overhead and impacted against the berm, spewing volcanoes of dirt and debris. Chunks of rock and crud rained down on the Soturi, clattering against their armor

Nolan’s heart pounded. Spiked with adrenalin, every nerve was alive. For the moment, he forgot all about his hangover. So did most of the other Soturi.

Something almost magical happens when people shoot at you—you forget about everything else. All of your problems fade into the distance. The volume on life gets turned down. Your focus becomes razor-sharp. The only thing that matters is getting through the next few moments alive. Contact with the enemy always seems to play out in slow motion, though in actuality, most battles last mere minutes.

Despite the surge of adrenalin, Nolan’s armor felt a little heavier today. Every movement was just a little bit slower. Reaction times were sluggish.

“I think we’re a little short-staffed for this job,” Nolan muttered over the comm line.

“Nobody asked you,” Tanc crackled back.

Xule was circling high above in one of the dropships. He’d swoop down after the victory, no doubt.

The Soturi hunkered down behind the berm, returning small arms fire, attempting to snipe the riflemen at the temple. It was a towering pyramid with thousands of steps that led up to a structure atop a terrace. It was reminiscent of an ancient Mayan temple. There were a myriad of entrances and exits. Inside the temple were multiple chambers and passageways. It had been built by hand by the ancient ones.

The night vision in Nolan’s helmet illuminated the area, making the terrain look as if it were broad daylight.

“Nolan, take your squad and advance to the next berm. Draw their fire,” Tanc commanded.

“Aye, sir,” Nolan muttered.

“Now!”

There was an outcropping of rocks 20 yards ahead. Nolan sprang to his feet and crested the ridge along with three other squad mates, including Caleb and Darvak. Nolan ran as fast as he could. His chest heaved for breath, his quads pumped. His heart thudded, his pulse pounding in his temples. It seemed to resonate throughout the armor.

Weapons fire streaked in his direction, passing dangerously close, exploding the ground around him, sending plumes of dirt and debris into the air.

Nolan dove for cover behind a clump of boulders.

The rest of the squad followed suit. But Private Milby wasn’t so lucky. A blast from an enemy spell rifle slammed into his chest. It tore through his armor plating like paper. It bore a hole in his thoracic cavity and exited through his spine. A red mist of blood hung in the air. Seared chunks of flesh and goo splattered. His body instantly went limp, and the suit of armor clanked to the dirt.

Nolan’s face tensed and he clenched his teeth. “Son-of-a-bitch!”

Nolan popped his head over the boulders and surveyed the temple. Several more shots erupted, impacting the other side of the boulder, sending chips of rock and debris pelting against his armor.

He crouched back down for cover. He knew what Tanc was trying to do—draw the enemy’s fire until their spell rifles ran dry. It needed to be done. But Nolan sure as hell didn’t want to be the one to do it. He knew the odds of reaching the temple were slim. And that was just fine with Tanc.

“Keep moving!” Tanc shouted over the comm line.

Nolan popped his head over the rocks again, looking for the next point of cover. Nolan didn’t have a rifleman in his platoon. And Tanc hadn’t bothered to lay down any suppressive fire. They were pretty much on their own.

Nolan pointed to the next outcropping, and commanded his squad to move.

More spell bolts erupted as Nolan made a mad dash for the next point of cover. Projectiles whizzed in front and behind, narrowly missing him. Again, Nolan dove for cover. His heart felt like it was about to punch through his armor. He was soaked with sweat. At least this time the rest of the squad made it across unscathed.

Another squad of Soturi followed after Nolan, drawing a plethora of enemy fire. Nolan and his squad advanced again. Slowly but surely, he forged the path forward.

The sky was growing lighter. The sun would crest over the horizon shortly. Nolan had halved the distance between the original drop zone and the temple. He was pleasantly surprised to have made it this far, but now it was going to get tricky. The next point of cover was at least 50 yards away—a withered old tree with craggy branches and a thick trunk. It was enough to hide behind, but it wouldn’t take many spell blasts to disintegrate the weary wood. The weapons fire from the temple would be more accurate at this distance. The longer time exposed would make Nolan more vulnerable. It was only going to get worse from here.

Nolan took a deep breath and sprang to his feet. He sprinted hard, running with all his might. His boots smacked the ground, and his heavy breath blasted against the inside of his helmet. A flurry of energy blasts streaked all around him.

Nolan dove for cover as the ground exploded near his feet from a spell blast. He tumbled and rolled behind the trunk as a hail of energy bolts peppered the tree. He flattened his back against the trunk, trying to make himself small. He watched in horror as both Caleb and Darvak were eviscerated by the glowing bolts. The projectiles seared their insides, spraying chunks of their organs across the dirt. Their bodies crashed to the ground.

Nolan felt like his insides had been ripped out. His best friend had been killed. It was like a punch to the gut. Sadness and anger welled inside of him. His throat tightened, and rage flushed his face.

Spell blasts continued to chip away at the tree trunk. Branches were severed and fell all around him. The tree quickly ignited in a furious blaze. Amber flames flickered high in the sky. The wood popped and cracked and hissed as the fire raged. Smoke billowed into the sky. The tree was the last point of cover between Nolan and the temple. And that was quickly going up in smoke.

27

Nolan could feel the heat from the burning tree radiate through his armor. The flames roared and crackled.

He drew his sword and charged for the temple. There was nowhere else to go. He had to keep moving forward. Several spell blasts rocketed toward him. He used his blade to deflect them. More bolts erupted at his feet and whizzed past his head. But as he neared the temple, the small arms fire stopped. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but it seemed like the enemy had run dry.

Nolan let out a war cry as he engaged the first of the warrior monks at the base of the temple. Their swords clanked and clattered.

Another squad of Soturi was behind Nolan. They arrived just in time to join the battle. The floodgates had opened, and the remaining members of the company advanced. They charged across the battlefield and collided with the monks. It was madness and mayhem. Hacking and slashing and stabbing. Dodging and twisting and blocking.

The warrior monks were dressed in ornate battle armor with golden accents. They looked reminiscent of Samurai warriors. Nolan heaved his spell sword and hacked off an arm of one of the warriors. He charged up the temple steps and ran his sword through another. He slashed and stabbed, slicing and gouging.

These were skilled swordsmen, but Nolan’s gift with a blade was superior. He moved through his enemies with skill and precision, slicing and dicing. But there was something unusual about the whole scenario—the monks didn’t bleed.

Despite severing limbs, or puncturing chest cavities, Nolan’s blade was always clean. He didn’t care whether they bled or not, as long as they fell before his sword. The problem began when they started to get back up.

It took several moments for a fallen monk to stir to life. But eventually, they all staggered to their feet and began fighting again.

Nolan’s eyes widened in disbelief. The rumors were true. Perhaps the monks were immortal?

Nolan kept fighting his way up the temple steps. It was a disheartening battle. No matter how valiantly he fought, they just kept coming. But there wasn’t as many of them as he had anticipated—maybe a hundred at most. Still, two platoons of Soturi against a hundred immortal warriors? That was asking for trouble.

Nolan figured the only way to accomplish the task was to move swiftly. He’d have to fight his way in, grab the medallion, and fight his way out. There was no time to dillydally.

Flames flickered from wall sconces as Nolan entered the temple. The amber glow reflected against his dark armor. He was met with bands of resistance. Nolan hacked and slashed his way through the ancient warriors, moving through the passageways as fast as he could. Moments after he passed, he could hear them stirring to life—the clanking of their armor echoing down the stone passageway.

Nolan made his way into a rotunda. In the center of the room was a pedestal. Atop the pedestal, the Medallion of Saan was illuminated by a mystical glow.

Nolan moved cautiously toward it. The room was oddly calm and empty. There were no guards. They were all busy defending the temple.

Nolan reached down and grabbed the gold medallion from the pedestal. It was encrusted with rare jewels. It sparkled in the flickering firelight from the wall sconces.

The medallion was heavy. Both sides were engraved with markings in the ancient language of Navutu’ar. He could make out some of it, though he wasn’t fluent in the old tongue. He could read enough to tell that it was a map, of sorts, describing the location of a precious object that once belonged to the god Strark.

Nolan’s wondrous eyes gazed at the majestic artifact. But his trance was broken by the commotion in the passageway. He heard the clash of swords and the clank of armor. He prepared to engage the monk warriors that had no doubt resurrected themselves. He was surprised to see Tanc emerge from the passageway.

“Hand the medallion to me. I will present it to Commander Xule.”

Nolan hesitated.

“I gave you a direct order!”

Nolan couldn’t see Tanc’s face behind his helmet, but he knew there was an angry snarl behind that visor.

Several other members of Tanc’s squad held off the monks in the hallway, repeatedly stabbing them, then watching them resurrect, then stabbing them again.

“I said give it to me. That’s an order!“ Tanc demanded.

Nolan reluctantly tossed the medallion to him.

Tanc almost dropped it, not anticipating the weight. He marveled at it for a moment, then his gaze returned to Nolan. “I will see that the commander knows you were instrumental in acquiring this.”

It sounded like bullshit. Nolan wondered what was behind this sudden change of heart.

“Move out, Jamison!”

“Aye, sir.” Nolan readied his sword and prepared to enter the fray once again. As he passed by Tanc he felt the sharp sting of a blade pierce into his abdomen. Tanc had thrust his sword through Nolan’s gut, stabbing through a gap in his armor.

The sharp blade stung. Nolan doubled over with pain. His muscles seized and spasmed. His internal organs were skewered by the broadsword.

Tanc kicked Nolan in the chest. He slid off the blade and crashed to the ground. He could feel the life force draining from him. Nolan writhed in agony on the floor, staring at the ceiling. As the blood drained, his extremities grew weak and cold. His hands and feet vibrated and tingled. He watched helplessly as Tanc stormed out of the chamber with the medallion.

Nolan tried to pry himself from the floor and stagger to his feet, but he was too weak. The wound too great. He knew it wasn’t going to be long before the chamber filled with monk warriors. That would be the end of him. He was going to die in an ancient temple that he had desecrated. It seemed like a fitting end, and punishment fair enough for the vile deeds he committed in the name of the Emperor.

28

Nolan’s vision began to fade. His slow heartbeat pumped the remains of his blood through his body. The precious liquid was spilling out. His pulse was a slow dull thump in his ears. His belly was on fire as he gasped for breath.

The world went dark.

When Nolan woke up, he had no conception of how much time had passed. It could’ve been an hour, a week, or month. He was surprised he woke up at all. He lay in a glowing beam that suspended his body like a bed. The chamber was lit by flickering wall sconces. The amber flames danced along the stone walls. Black soot stained the ceiling above the flames. It was calm and peaceful.

Nolan felt almost no pain until he attempted to sit up, then the burning fire returned to his belly. He felt the sharp tug and pull of stitches in his abdomen. He glanced down to see the laceration dressed in bandages. A quizzical look covered his face. Did the warrior monks tend to his wounds?

There was a cup of water on the nightstand by the beam, along with a bowl of fresh fruit. Nolan winced as he reached for the glass. He could barely lift it to his lips. The cup trembled in his hand as he took a sip. The water quenched his dry mouth.

Nolan set up as a young woman entered the room. She wore a long flowing robe and a hood. He barely caught a glimpse of her soft skin and glimmering eyes. A few strands of wavy blonde hair were visible. “You need to rest,” she purred softly. She had the voice of an angel, soothing and calm.

“What happened?” Nolan asked.

“You were wounded during your attempt to steal the medallion. But Master Tong saw fit to tend to your injuries.”

“Why?”

“You tell me? Why did you take what is not rightfully yours?”

“No, I mean why did Master Tong choose to save me?”

She looked at him like it was the most idiotic question ever asked. “All life is precious. The Kataari defend the temple. When you no longer posed a threat, you turned from someone who was an enemy to someone who needed our care.”

Nolan was surprised by her compassion.

“Now you tell me. Why did your friends take the medallion?”

Nolan shrugged. “They’re not my friends. I was just following orders.”

“You always do everything you’re told? Even when you know it’s wrong?”

“No. But I didn’t have a choice.”

“We all have choices. You may not like the alternatives presented, but there’s always a choice.”

“My people were killed. I was enslaved and forced to fight.”

“Oh, that’s your excuse?”

“It’s not an excuse. It’s…”

“You became the thing you despised and perpetuated the cycle of tyranny.” She was right, and Nolan knew it. There was no sense arguing. He could’ve refused to fight—it would have meant death, but he did have a choice.

“It seems, since your friends left, you’re now a free man. Once you heal, you will be allowed to leave the temple. You’re not a prisoner here.”

Nolan gazed at her with amazement. He was taken aback by her kindness, despite the fact that she most likely despised him. If she did, she hid that emotion well.

“Thank you,” Nolan said.

“I’ll return to check on you shortly. If you need anything, let me know.” She spun around, her robe twirling behind her. She moved effortlessly toward the door.

“Wait? What’s your name?”

“Mia.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mia,” Nolan said. But she was already out the door. He felt like an idiot. He knew that Mia didn’t think it was nice to meet him. He meant to ask her how long he had been unconscious, but he figured he’d get around to that next time he saw her.

He pulled himself out of the beam and hobbled to the restroom. Each step felt like someone was sticking a kitchen knife in his gut. The first few steps were uneasy. He felt lightheaded and almost stumbled. Nolan managed to brace himself against the wall as he made the journey.

In the restroom, Nolan looked at himself in the mirror. His face was rough with stubble. He looked pale and gaunt. He peeled off his bandages to look at his wound. The scar was stitched nicely. But the skin was swollen and bruised. Multiple shades of purple, green, blue, and yellow. It was going to take quite some time before he was anywhere near back to normal.

He staggered back to the beam and passed out. The short trip to the restroom had worn him out, and the beam felt like floating on a cloud.

He woke up in the middle of the night, having lost all sense of time once again. The flames of the wall sconces continued to flicker. There was an eerie silence about the temple. It was as if he was the only one there. He crawled out of bed again and staggered out of the chamber. He stepped into the passageway that was bathed in flickering amber light. He wandered the hallways, passing stone statues of monk warriors every 10 feet or so. He didn’t recall seeing the statutes before. It didn’t take long to put two and two together. These were the soldiers that he had fought. They stood guard over the temple, frozen in stone, until they were needed.

Nolan examined one of the statues closely. He leaned in, looking at the fine detail carved into the stone. It was spooky. The hairs on the back of his neck stood tall. He was partly waiting for one of them to jump out at him.

“Are you all right?” Mia asked, startling him.

Nolan jumped. The sudden movement caused a jolt of pain to rush through his abdomen. It took his breath away. “I’m fine.”

“You must be feeling a little better if you’re up and about.”

“I feel slightly worse than terrible,” Nolan said, dryly. “But better than dead.” He pondered this a moment. “I think.”

“You should get back to bed. Don’t want to tear your stitches out.”

“That’s probably wise.”

Mia followed as Nolan hobbled back to his chamber. It hurt to tense his abdomen and lift his legs into the beam. Mia pulled the covers up and tucked him in. Nolan felt like a child again, helpless and vulnerable.

“I’m just down the hall if you need anything.” Mia spun around again and headed for the exit.

“What’s the significance of the medallion?”

“It gives the location of the Sword of Destiny, if you believe in that kind of thing.”

“The Sword of Destiny?”

Mia looked surprised that he was unfamiliar with it. “It’s late. That’s a story for another day. Sleep well.” She vanished into the corridor.

Nolan’s curiosity was piqued. He lay in bed wide awake, wondering what he had helped Valdovar accomplish. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good.

29

Morning sun cascaded through the windows, casting shafts of amber light. Nolan stirred, wiping the sleep from his eyes. He thought he smelled breakfast? The aroma of bacon, eggs, and fresh brewed coffee wafted into his chamber. At first he thought he must still be dreaming, but it wasn’t long before Mia entered the room with a tray of food. She sat it on the nightstand next to him.

Nolan’s eyes widened with delight. He sat up again. It took him a moment to realize the sharp pain in his abdomen had diminished—it hurt like hell to sit up yesterday.

“Did you sleep well?”

Nolan nodded. “Very.”

“It’s peaceful here.” Mia said. Then she added, “Usually.” A subtle jab at Nolan’s violent arrival.

“Where did you get bacon and eggs and coffee?”

“Master Tong manifests abundance.”

Nolan wasn’t sure what that meant exactly. “Master Tong is a sorcerer?”

Mia chuckled. “Master Tong has certain gifts. The gods have blessed him for years of prayer and meditation.”

Nolan was skeptical. But he’d seen so many unimaginable things already that he wasn’t going to rule anything out. However it got here, breakfast smelled divine, and Nolan was hell-bent on devouring it as quickly as possible.

“How are you feeling?”

Nolan thought about it for a moment. His eyes perked up. “I feel much better than I thought I would.”

He checked underneath his bandages. The wound no longer looked fresh. The scar looked like one of seven days, not something that had happened less than 24 hours ago.

Nolan’s face twisted up, pleasantly perplexed. “I don’t understand how this is possible.”

A slight grin curled up on Mia’s lips. “The prayer prayed over a sick person will make him well.”

“Master Tong prayed for me?” At this point, Nolan couldn’t argue with the results.

“Is that so surprising?”

Nolan shrugged.

“Gifted ones heal faster as well.”

“What do you mean, gifted ones?”

“You’re a mage. You heal at twice the rate of normal humans.”

Nolan’s forehead crinkled. “I’m not a mage. I have no magical ability whatsoever.”

“Just because you don’t believe in yourself doesn’t mean that ability is not within you.”

“What makes you believe I have magical ability?”

Mia shrugged. “Master Tong seems to think so.” She thought about it for a moment. “Perhaps that is the real reason that your life was worth saving.”

Nolan was sure Master Tong was mistaken. But if he had saved Nolan because he thought he was a mage, who was Nolan to argue?

Mia set the tray on his lap, and Nolan began to shovel breakfast into his mouth. The eggs were lightly seasoned, the bacon was crunchy, and the coffee was perfect.

“Does breakfast meet with your liking?”

Nolan nodded. “It’s delicious.”

“After breakfast, if you’re feeling up to it, Master Tong would like to see you.”

“Okay,” Nolan mumbled with a mouthful. He felt like a little kid that had been summoned to see the principal.

After breakfast, Nolan staggered through the corridors. Mia led him to a chamber where Tong was on the floor, praying before a golden statue of an ancient god. There were so many religions throughout the universe, all with their own sets of deities. Nolan didn’t know who Tong was praying to.

Nolan had never been particularly religious himself. He believed a greater power had to exist, but he never actively practiced any specific religion. Generic prayer to the Universe in times of need were all Nolan ever offered.

Mia left Nolan alone with Master Tong. He waited patiently for the holy man to finish his prayer routine.

After several minutes, the monk stood up and addressed Nolan. He wore a long flowing robe, similar to what Mia wore. His face was shrouded by the hood pulled over his head. He looked ominous, almost sinister. Until he pulled the hood back, revealing a smiling, affable face. “You’re looking well. You should return to full health in no time. But your spirit is in need of great healing.”

Master Tong’s calm, soothing voice filled Nolan’s ears. It was the kind of low, massaging voice that could put you to sleep in no time.

There was no doubt that Nolan’s spirit needed healing. After all the trauma he had been through, his soul ached worse than his body ever could.

“Thank you for your kindness.”

Master Tong nodded. “Everyone deserves kindness. Even those who do the most reprehensible deeds.”

Nolan felt ashamed. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Destiny brought you here. All things happen the way they are supposed to. It is the fulfillment of prophecy.”

“Prophecy?”

Master Tong nodded.

“So, you’re not upset that the medallion was stolen?

Master Tong shrugged. “Why should I be upset about anything? External events are not under my control. My thought is the only thing that I can control. Besides, who am I to argue with what the Universe has decided?”

Nolan was surprised at how calm the master was. But then again, his whole life had been an odd mix of the pursuit of inner peace and preparation for war.

Master Tong led Nolan down a passageway to another chamber. In the center of the room was a basin that looked like a baptismal font. The basin held a small pool of holy water. Master Tong grabbed a crystal from an altar and placed it in Nolan’s palm.

At first the stone did nothing. Nolan gazed at the master, wondering what he was supposed to do with the crystal. But he got his answer shortly. It began to glow and emit radiant energy. Nolan’s eyes widened with amazement.

“You have magic in your blood. The stone senses it.” Nolan’s face twisted up perplexed. “I have no magical ability. Neither my father nor my mother could wield magic.”

Master Tong seemed to know something Nolan didn’t. “Perhaps you should re-evaluate all that you know to be true.”

“What do you mean?”

Master Tong shrugged. “The stone does not lie.” He paused a moment. “Gaze into the water. You may be surprised at what it reveals to you.”

30

Nolan gazed into the glass-like water contained within the basin. He waited for something mystical to happen. A vision on the surface of the water—something—anything. But it remained clear and placid. After a few moments of nothingness, Nolan glanced to Master Tong.

He shrugged. “Perhaps you’re not ready to see the truth.”

Nolan sneered at him.

“All things in good time. Until then, make yourself at home. Recover from your wounds. Who knows? Perhaps you may find you like it here?” Master Tong left Nolan alone in the chamber.

He gazed back into the basin for a moment.

Still nothing.

After a few moments, Nolan gave up. He staggered back into the hallway, making his way to his chamber. As he rounded the corner, a man obstructed his path. He was around the same age as Nolan. His face was tense with anger. He had short blond hair, and his brown eyes burned with hatred. His fist gripped the hilt of a dagger. The steel blade glistened in the flickering firelight from the sconces on the wall. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out this wasn’t a welcoming committee.

Nolan sensed another presence behind him. A young man with a dagger cornered him in the passageway. He had dark hair and dark eyes, and was slightly taller than Nolan. His eyes burned with the same hatred as the blond-haired man. These weren’t soldiers, and they weren’t monks either.

Nolan was in no condition to defend himself. “Can I help you with something?”

“You’re the Imperial Soturi that was given refuge,” the blond-haired man said. It was partly a statement and partly a question.

Nolan reluctantly nodded. “Former Imperial Soturi.”

“Anyone who fights for Valdovar is no friend of mine.”

“No one fights for Valdovar by choice.”

“That’s a pathetic excuse.” The blond-haired man clenched his jaw. Rage boiled in his veins. He gripped his dagger tight and lunged for Nolan, stabbing at him.

Nolan sidestepped and blocked the attack. He grabbed the man’s wrist with one hand then twisted his arm around, leveraging it from the elbow. In a flash, the blond man’s arm twisted behind his back, moments away from snapping. Nolan bent the man’s wrist in an awkward direction until it was so painful he lost grip of the dagger. Nolan moved with lightning speed. It all happened in a flash.

The dark-haired man lunged with his knife overhead, ready to stab down.

Nolan used the blond man as a shield, blocking the attack. The fast movements tugged at Nolan stitches. Blood seeped from his wound and a jolt of pain rocketed through his abdomen. Nolan shoved the blond, sending both men crashing back. He scooped the dagger from the floor and readied himself for battle.

The dark-haired man was about to make another attack when Mia shouted at the top of her lungs, “Stop!”

Nolan stayed in his defensive posture, brandishing the dagger.

His attackers glared at him. Their eyes flicked to Mia, who was incensed by their attempted violence. She made her way in between the two disgruntled parties. “How dare you. This is a sacred place,” Mia said, chastising the young men. “You’re no better than the Soturi. Have you learned nothing?”

Their scowling faces were red and flush with anger.

“He doesn’t deserve to live,” the blond said, his chest still heaving from exertion. He rubbed the wrist that Nolan had damn near broken.

“No one deserves to die,” Mia said. “It will happen for us all soon enough.”

“Have you forgotten what Valdovar’s Soturi did to our village? Have you forgotten all of our brothers and sisters who were taken?”

“Do you think he is any different from us?” Mia asked.

The blond man pondered this for a moment

“Go home, Owen. This man is not your enemy. Not anymore.” Mia’s gaze turned to the dark-haired man. “And you, Dylan. I thought you had more sense than this.”

Dylan sheepishly dropped his head.

“Give me the dagger before you hurt yourself.”

“No,” Dylan said.

“Give it to me,” Mia growled. Her eyes were intense. Her tone commanding. She transformed from an innocent caretaker to a vicious pit bull.

Dylan finally relented, not wanting to suffer Mia’s wrath. He handed her the dagger, then she commanded them to leave the temple. They shuffled away with wounded pride.

Mia’s compassionate eyes found Nolan. “Are you okay?”

Nolan nodded. She held out her palm. It was an unspoken demand for the dagger Nolan acquired from Owen.

“It seems I may need this to defend myself.”

Mia snapped her finger.

“Alright,” Nolan said. He flipped the dagger around, grabbing it by the blade and handed it to her.

“You should get back in bed and rest.”

“Aye, sir,” he said, mock saluting her.

She rolled her eyes.

Nolan hobbled back to his chamber. He climbed into the suspension beam. It perfectly supported his form and minimized pressure points.

“The beam has healing properties. The longer you stay in it, the faster you’ll recover.” Mia said. “It also conditions your muscles so they don’t atrophy during your recovery.”

“Good to know.”

Nolan paused for a moment. “How long ago did Valdovar’s Soturi attack your village?”

Mia furrowed her brow as she thought about this. “Maybe a year ago? The village was decimated. Owen’s sister was taken, along with several others. Only a handful of people survived. We tried to rebuild, but there’s not much left.”

“Sorry.” My village was recently attacked. I’ve only been in service for a month.” Nolan said it specifically so Mia would know he wasn’t part of Valdovar’s Soturi that had attacked her village.

The information didn’t seem to affect her one way or the other. She maintained her pleasant and calm demeanor. “I’ll check back with you later.” She started for the door. “What if someone tries to come back to kill me while I sleep?”

Mia shrugged. “The statues will protect you. Just as they protect all who dwell in the temple.”

It didn’t inspire a lot of confidence. The statues didn’t come to life during the attack by Owen and Dylan. Master Tong may have forgiven Nolan, but he wasn’t so sure that the stone warriors had done the same.

31

After a month, Nolan was feeling more like himself again. The wound had healed incredibly fast. He had been jogging the steps of the temple and working out, trying to regain his strength and endurance. He practiced his swordsmanship in the Great Hall. He could feel the scar tissue breakup with certain movements, leaving him with sharp pain. It was typically momentary.

The stone soldiers presided over the temple. In the back of his mind, Nolan worried that they might come to life and exact revenge. Quite often he would find himself standing in front of one of the statues, gazing at it intently, looking for signs of life. But the figures remained fixed and immobile.

At times he taunted and teased them, trying to provoke a reaction. On one occasion, he stuck out his tongue at one the statues. When Nolan turned around, he felt a hand shove him in the back. Nolan tumbled to the ground, but by the time he sprang to his feet and looked at the statue it was frozen stiff.

Master Tong witnessed the event and almost broke out into giggles. “Not wise to taunt the Kataari,” he said with amusement.

“What are they?” Nolan asked.

“They were once ordinary men, just like you or me.”

“What made them this way?”

“An oath to defend the temple for all eternity, made over a thousand years ago.”

“That’s dedication,” Nolan said.

“Devoting yourself to a higher purpose is a great honor.” Tong’s wise eyes surveyed Nolan. “You’re looking fit and healthy again.”

“Almost back into fighting shape.”

“So, you intend to return to the Imperial Soturi?”

“No! I intend to kill Lord Valdovar.”

“What has the Font of Truth revealed to you?”

“Nothing. I look into the water every day, and I only see my reflection staring back at me. Perhaps it has nothing to show me.”

“All things happen in the manner and time in which they are ordained.”

“You say that as if life is predetermined.”

“I believe the Universe moves on a certain trajectory, but I also believe we can change that trajectory.” Tong gave him a solemn look. “If you intend to defeat Lord Valdovar, you will need that which he seeks, the Sword of Destiny. The one who wields the sword shall be invincible.”

Nolan tensed. “But he’s got the medallion, and the medallion will lead him to the sword?”

Master Tong grinned. “He does not have the Medallion of Saan. He has a worthless trinket that will lead to nowhere.”

Nolan’s brow crinkled up perplexed. “You swapped the medallion?”

“His coming was foretold to me. As I said, the Universe moves along a certain trajectory. Sometimes, we have the ability to alter that trajectory.” Tong reached into his pocket and produced the shiny gold medallion inscribed with the location of the Sword of Destiny.”

Nolan’s eyes widened.

“If you knew where the sword was located this whole time, why didn’t you go and get it?”

“Because that is not my destiny.”

“And you think it’s mine?”

“Perhaps.”

Nolan was hoping for a more definitive answer.

“I must warn you. The sword is powerful. And absolute power corrupts. If you’re not careful, the sword could turn you into the tyrant that you despise.”

Nolan had already turned into things that he despised. He never wanted to become that thing again.

Tong handed him the medallion. Nolan gazed at it, trying to decipher the inscription. “Why would you give this to me? Less than a month ago I tried to take it from you.”

“I have seen who you are to become. Even if you have not.”

Nolan gave him a skeptical look.

Master Tong started to leave the chamber.

“If I am going to defeat Valdovar, I will need to wield great magic. Can you teach me?”

“The question is not can I teach you, but can you learn?” A grin tugged at Master Tongs lips.

Nolan’s frustrated eyes gazed at Tong. Nolan wasn’t a fan of the riddles.

“See what you can learn on your own. When the time is right, the teacher will appear.” Master Tong held out his palm and created a ball of glowing energy.

Nolan’s eyes widened at the sight.

“When you can do this, we will begin your training.” Tong dropped his hand and the energy disappeared. He slipped out of the chamber.

It seemed impossible. Nolan felt like he was never going to be able to do something like that. Master Tong made it look simple.

Nolan held out his palm, straining to create a ball of energy. The veins in his neck bulged, and his cheeks flushed red. He looked constipated. His grunts and groans filled the chamber. He tried for 15 minutes to no avail. Suddenly, he had the distinct feeling that someone was watching him. A wave of embarrassment passed through him as he saw Mia giggling.

Nolan relaxed and tried to act casual.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Mia said.

“I was just… Working on a new technique.” Nolan tried to play it off casually.

Mia rolled her eyes. She held out her palm and produced a glowing ball of energy within a matter of moments.

Nolan was surprised. He had no idea she had magical powers.

Mia lobbed the ball of energy into the air, arcing towards Nolan. He caught it gingerly, cupping it between his palms.

“Try to keep it alive,” Mia said.

Nolan tried, but he didn’t know what the hell he was doing. The ball of energy quickly fizzled and evaporated.

Mia giggled again. “No worries. It just takes time.”

“How long did it take you?”

Mia shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve just always been able to do it.” A cocky smile flashed on her face.

Nolan scowled at her playfully. “Well, it comes so naturally for you, maybe you could help me?”

Mia thought about it for a moment. A flirtatious glint in her eyes. “Maybe.”

32

Everyday Nolan visited the Font of Truth, hoping to gain some insights about the future. What it finally revealed to him was not what he wanted to see. An image appeared in the surface of the water. He was battling Lord Valdovar. They were engaged in a fierce sword battle. Nolan could hear the clinking of their swords. He watched as Valdovar fought skillfully. With a heavy blow, Valdovar’s sword shattered Nolan’s blade. The sword broke in half and clinked to the ground. Left with only the hilt and a short fragment of the blade, Nolan was unable to defend Valdovar’s next blow. The demon’s sword plunged through Nolan’s heart. Crimson blood poured from the wound. Valdovar removed his blood covered blade and kicked Nolan into the dirt. The young warrior gasped for breath as blood pooled around his body. Soon the color faded from his face and lips, and his gaze was fixed for all eternity.

Nolan swallowed hard. His throat grew tight as he watched the vision fade from the surface of the water. Perhaps he wasn’t the one to defeat Valdovar after all?

Nolan sulked out of the chamber. He looked almost as pale as his future corpse.

“What’s the matter?” Mia asked, her face painted with worry. “You look terrible.”

Nolan was somewhat dazed. Nothing. I’m fine.”

“Did you see something in there?”

Nolan hesitated a moment. “No. I’m just frustrated the Font hasn’t revealed anything to me.”

“Perhaps you’re not ready to see?”

“Perhaps.”

Nolan tried to push the image out of his mind. If he was going to die fighting Valdovar, so be it. It wasn’t going to stop him from trying. Valdovar’s reign of terror had to end.

Mia knew there was more than Nolan was telling her, but she didn’t push the issue. “So, how’s your technique coming along?”

Nolan shrugged. “I think I’m making progress. I think…”

“Let’s see.”

Nolan held out his palm and tried to summon a ball of mystical energy. A few sparks and flurries of energy flashed, then faded.

Mia tried to hide a frown. “That’s better than nothing,” she said, trying to sound optimistic.

“Thanks,” Nolan said, dryly.

“At that rate, you can light the candles on my birthday cake,” Master Tong said as he entered the corridor.

Nolan shot him a sideways glance. “How old are you going to be?”

“397.” Master Tong smiled, proud of his longevity.

“That’s impressive. You don’t look a day over 300,” Nolan teased.

Tong frowned at him and continued down the hallway.

Mia chuckled. She grabbed Nolan’s hand and pulled him outside. They stood atop the temple, surveying the rugged landscape. The sky was clear, and from this height you could see for miles. “You look like you could use some fresh air.”

She held onto his hand a little longer then normal. Her skin was soft and smooth. Her wavy hair flowed in the breeze. She looked peaceful and happy. She was a beautiful young woman. Nolan would be a fool not to notice.

“Why are you here?” Nolan asked.

“Someone will need to care for the temple after Master Tong is gone.”

“He doesn’t look like he’s going anywhere anytime soon.”

“It will take a lifetime to acquire his knowledge and become master. Then I will pass the knowledge and ways of the Kataari on to someone else.”

“Seems like a lonely life,” Nolan said.

“I don’t feel lonely right now.” She smiled, her blue eyes sparkled at him, innocently.

Nolan took in her stunning beauty. She was like the girl next-door.

Over the next few weeks, Nolan continued to train and build his strength. He sparred with Mia, who had great skill with a blade. Steel clashed as they practiced in the Great Hall under the watchful eyes of stone warriors.

Mia attacked with ferocity, the blade of her sword slicing through the air with blinding speed. It was all Nolan could do to deflect the blows. It was fair to say they were pretty evenly matched.

The faux battle continued with Mia pushing Nolan back with her incessant attacks. Her intense eyes were focused on one thing—victory. She was in the zone, where nothing else existed.

Nolan was overwhelmed by her attack. He had thoroughly underestimated her. She batted his sword aside, then kicked him in the chest, toppling him to the ground.

Mia snapped out of her almost trance-like state. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I got a little carried away.”

Nolan looked a little astonished. He dusted himself off. He gazed up at her apologetic face. “It’s okay. Note to self. Don’t mess with temple girls.”

Mia reached out her hand to help him up. Her skin felt soft as Nolan clasped her palm. A devious grin flashed on his face as he pulled her down, catching her off guard.

She crashed on top of him—their faces inches apart. The two gazed into each other’s eyes for a long moment. Their lips begging for each other as if there was a magnetic force pulling them together. But Master Tong’s entrance into the room caused polarity to reverse.

The two sprang apart and scrambled to their feet, trying to play the moment off casually.

Master Tong didn’t say anything, but he was well aware of the connection brewing between them.

“We were just… sparring,” Mia stammered, her face flush with embarrassment.

“I see,” Master Tong said with a knowing grin.

“I’d say he’s got his full strength back,” Mia said, trying to sound professional. “But he could still use a little improvement on swordsmanship.”

Nolan arched an eyebrow at her.

“Yes. An improvement on his swordsmanship,” Master Tong said, wryly. “That’s exactly what he needs.”

“If you’ll excuse me,” Mia said. “I’ve got business to attend to.” She spun around and slipped out of the room as fast as humanly possible.

Master Tong gave Nolan a knowing glance.

“She’s very… skilled,” Nolan said, fumbling for words.

Master Tong said nothing and strolled out of the chamber.

Nolan wasn’t exactly sure how to read him. Knowing Master Tong, he neither approved nor disapproved of their budding attraction. Things would unfold as they were meant.

Nolan sheathed his sword and left the chamber. He stepped onto the terrace for some fresh air. He gazed out over the majestic mountainside, the clear sky allowing for a seemingly infinite view. He liked it here. And he couldn’t deny his attraction toward Mia. But he couldn’t stay here forever. There was the business of revenge to attend to.

Nolan’s thoughts were distracted by dark specks on the horizon. His eyes narrowed and focused at the distant sky.

Master Tong made his way through the hallways to Mia’s chamber. She was tidying up her room, mainly to vent nervous energy. Her mind still on the close encounter in the Great Hall.

Master Tong stood in the doorway and said nothing.

Mia assumed he was there to chastise her. “I apologize. I think I’ve gotten too close to our guest. Perhaps I will spend less time with him.”

“Only you can decide best how to spend your time.”

Mia was silent for a long moment. “Do you think he’s the one?”

“Only your heart can tell you that.”

“No. That’s not what I mean. Do you think is the one of the prophecy?”

“I believe so, yes.”

“Have you seen it?”

“Nothing is certain, but what I have seen leads me to believe he is the one.” Tong paused. “Has the Font revealed a truth to you?”

“Yes,” she stammered. “Though it is different than what I had anticipated.”

“The future often is.”

“I had always thought my place was to stay here and to…” She couldn’t finish the sentence.

Tong finished for her. “Continue after I’m gone?”

Mia nodded. “But it seems my destiny is to make a great sacrifice. And I’m not sure if I will rise to the challenge when the time comes.”

“Perhaps you should have more faith in yourself.”

“Perhaps.”

The conversation was interrupted by the sound of Nolan’s voice echoing down the hall. He was yelling some type of warning.

It didn’t take long for Nolan to discern the shapes on the horizon—they were Imperial dropships. Valdovar’s Soturi were returning. Nolan warned Mia and Master Tong, then rushed through the corridors to his chamber. He discarded his temple robe and suited up in his battle armor. He drew his sword and raced back through the passageways. He met up with Mia and Master Tong.

The stone warriors came to life, preparing for battle.

Nolan started to follow them, fully intending to fight alongside them to defend the temple.

Master Tong grabbed his arm “No. This is not your battle.”

Nolan’s face twisted up, full of disappointment. “I’m ready to fight. I’m fully healed.”

“There’s no sense in getting re-injured,” Tong said.

“You saved my life. Let me repay the favor.”

“Valdovar returns to acquire the real medallion.” Master Tong reached into his pocket and pulled out a vile of pearlescent liquid that had a slight glow to it. He handed it to Nolan.

Nolan surveyed the sparkling vial with curiosity. “What is this?”

“The Elixir of Life. It will give you the power to breathe life into another. But it comes at a great cost. Use it wisely, If you must use it at all.”

“What cost?”

“Death, of course.”

Nolan didn’t like the sound of that.

“You must go to Mazarak. Find the sword of Destiny in the Tomb of Eldür. Defeat Valdovar. End his reign of tyranny. It is your fate.”

Nolan stuttered, wanting to tell him the truth. He wasn’t the one of the prophecy. “But…”

“Have faith. You have been shown the truth.”

Nolan couldn’t bring himself to tell Master Tong that the Font had shown him his own death.

“Mia will show you the secret passageway. It leads under the mountains. The two of you will travel to Solanavi. There you can find transport. Hurry.”

Mia protested. “I’m not leaving you.”

My spirit will always be with you,” Master Tong said. “Go!”

Mia’s eyes welled with tears, and her lip quivered. There was no arguing with Master Tong. She knew he was right.

She grabbed Nolan’s hand and pulled him through the corridor. They plunged down a staircase descending into the depths of the temple. The steps seemed to spiral downward to eternity.

Nolan’s boots clinked against the stone steps, echoing through the well. As they reached the bottom, Mia raced through the subterranean levels of the temple. She twisted one of the wall sconces which opened a secret passageway in the rock. The two ducked inside and the stone slab shut behind them.

The tunnel was pitch black. Mia held out her hand and generated a small ball of energy. Its blue glow illuminated the passageway.

Tears streamed down her cheeks. The dull rumble of the attack filtered into the passageway from above. The ground quaked from explosions. Dust and debris rained down from the top of the passageway

“Come on. Let’s keep moving,” Nolan said. The temple that had stood for thousands of years was going to be reduced to rubble.

Mia was heartbroken.

33

Black smoke billowed into the sky, cresting over the mountain range. The secret passageway had led Nolan and Mia underneath the craggy peaks. They emerged on the other side, and could only imagine the devastation inflicted upon the temple.

Mia’s eyes were still red and puffy. She wiped the tears away. Her throat was tight with anger, and she could barely swallow. Her once peaceful, calm exterior had vanished. Her face was tense and her brow was now knitted with rage.

“I should’ve stayed and fought,” Mia said, wracked with guilt.

“We’d most likely have been killed.” Nolan remembered what Caleb had said to him when they first met: live to fight another day.

It was of little consolation to Mia.

“Where’s the city?”

Mia pointed to the horizon. “It’s a little over a day’s journey on foot. The terrain is rugged, and the path is treacherous. The dramoks hunt in packs.”

Nolan lifted a curious eyebrow. “Dramoks?”

“Vicious predators. They usually stay away from large gatherings of people, but two people in the wilderness will become prime targets. Keep your eyes open.”

Mia and Nolan marched west into the barren rocky landscape. They had no food or water, and were most likely going to become the main course for ravenous predators.

The two twisted their way through a narrow ravine. Jagged peaks stabbed at the sky. The sun cast a glorious mix of colors, creating brilliant hues of pink and blue and orange against the clouds. As the glowing orb dipped below the peaks, the brilliant colors faded to gray, then the sky turned black.

Nolan lowered his helmet visor, and his night vision illuminated the path.

Mia had a solution of her own. Once again she formed a ball of energy in her palm which cast a flickering light in the valley. She hoped it would also serve to keep the dramoks at bay.

They marched well into the night without incident. But Nolan had the dreaded sense that something was following them. Circling high above, the dramoks could swoop down out of the blackness at any moment and snatch their prey.

Nolan noticed a small alcove in the rock. It would provide decent cover. “Maybe we should camp here for the evening?”

Mia nodded.

The temperature had dropped rapidly after dusk. Before the night was over, the temperature would plummet even further.

Mia unsheathed her sword and proceeded to hack down several small, thorny shrubs. Nolan helped her gather them and bring them to the shelter. With the wave of her hand, Mia ignited the tangled shrubs. Flames flickered, filling the alcove with amber light. It would provide them with enough warmth to keep them comfortable through the night.

“You’re pretty handy with that,” Nolan said. He took a seat leaning against the stone wall of the alcove.

Mia sat beside him. “It definitely has its uses.”

Nolan gazed at her crestfallen face. There was nothing he could say to make her pain go away.

Mia tried to accept what had happened. There was nothing she could do to change it, and fretting over it wasn’t going to do any good. She felt physically ill from the loss. Her stomach twisted in knots, like someone had punched her in the gut. Her whole body was vibrating. Master Tong had been like a father to her. He had raised her since she was an infant. He was the only family she’d ever known.

They sat a long moment in silence.

“I’m going to help you defeat Valdovar.” Mia said, steeling her resolve.

Nolan sighed. The insurmountable task weighed heavily on his mind, and knowing the outcome, he wanted to spare Mia. “When we get to the city, you should find transport to the Lodani sector. It’s safer there.”

Mia’s face twisted up. “You don’t think I can handle it?”

“No, I just… It’s going to be dangerous. And I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I’ll take my chances.” Her cheeks flushed red with anger. “Nowhere in the galaxy is safe. Valdovar will continue to move through the planetary systems, conquering them one by one until he controls the entire galaxy. Sooner or later, every system will suffer his wrath.”

Nolan knew she was right. The was no place safe.

“Besides. You’re going to be victorious. If I fight alongside you, we cannot fail.” She attempted to smile, but her face refused to accommodate the gesture.

Nolan felt like a fraud. He bit his tongue, not wanting to give her more bad news. Tonight, they both needed hope that Valdovar could be defeated.

“You should get some sleep,” Mia said. “I’ll stand watch. We’ve got a long journey ahead of us. I’m too keyed up to sleep right now.”

“I don’t know if I can sleep either, to tell you the truth.”

Nolan gazed at the flickering flames and lost himself in thought about the future. The fire popped and crackled. Embers floated into the air. Black smoke covered the roof of the alcove as he stared for hours, until the mesmerizing flames finally put him to sleep.

The heat from the fire was soothing. But the flames faded during the night, and Nolan woke to a bitter chill. The once roaring fire was reduced to a few glowing coals.

Nolan’s eyes stared out into the darkness with a feeling of dread. He could sense that something was out there.

He slowly reached for his helmet beside him and slipped it on his head. He pulled the visor down and activated the night vision. There were no less than a dozen dramoks in the valley, preparing to attack.

Nolan tapped Mia on the shoulder. Her eyes flicked open, startled. “What is it?”

Nolan shushed her. He pointed to the darkness and whispered, “We’ve got company.”

Mia couldn’t see into the darkness, but the low rumbling breaths of the creatures filled the air. She knew instantly what was out there——dramoks—winged demons that breathed fire and had teeth like razors. Their sharp talons could rip through flesh with ease. They were the size of lions, with thick armor plating and powerful wings. They had an insatiable appetite for flesh. Once they got a taste of the sweet delicacy of human meat, nothing else would do.

Nolan and Mia drew their swords and slowly rose to their feet, preparing for battle.

The creatures inched forward, their demonic eyes reflecting the glow of the hot coals. It was only a matter of moments before the beasts would pounce.

34

A blur of fangs. Breaths of fire. Snarls and growls and slashing talons filled the night. Wings flapping as the dramok dragons launched toward their prey. A stream of blazing fire rocketed toward Nolan and Mia from multiple directions. It was like hell had opened, spewing molten lava, spraying pain. The walking blowtorches were going to sizzle them to a crisp, then gnaw on their tasty barbecued flesh.

Nolan cowered down, attempting to shield himself from the fire. He knew his armor would protect him to some degree, but the protection would be short-lived under the attack of the ferocious dragons.

Mia waved her hand and created a spell shield in the nick of time. It blocked the blistering flames, shielding the two of them from a scalding death. The searing flames bounced off the shield which glowed blue with each impact.

Nolan’s eyes widened in amazement. He didn’t know she wielded that much power. But there was no telling how long Mia could sustain the spell shield. Her face strained and the veins in her neck bulged. The shield was taking all of her focus and attention.

Nolan transferred his sword to his left hand. He cupped the palm of his right hand and tried to summon a ball of energy. Maybe it was the fear and adrenaline. Perhaps the do-or-die nature of the moment. But several sparks of energy flickered. He focused all of his energy. Slowly, a glowing ball of energy formed. It was about the size of a softball. Nolan wound up and pitched it at one of the dragons.

The ball of energy streaked through the air, much like an enchanted arrow. It smacked one of the encroaching dramoks in the face. It staggered the beast, forcing him several steps back. But it didn’t seem to do any lasting damage.

The energy was weak.

Emboldened by the failed attack, the dragon shook it off, then charged Nolan. It leapt into the air, attempting to pounce.

Nolan tossed the sword back into his right hand, then stabbed the beast as it lunged for him. Nolan’s sword penetrated the spell shield, and the blade skewered the beast through its mouth. The heavy creature’s momentum carried him through the spell shield, toppling Nolan to the ground. Its chest heaved for breath and the beast blew out a burst of flame.

Nolan withdrew his sword as his hand and armor were engulfed in the dramok’s scalding breath. The steel of Nolan’s blade glowed red from the fire. Nolan could feel his armor heat up.

The dragon attempted to stagger to its feet, but it just flopped back down to the ground. Nolan plunged his blade into the beast’s heart, finishing him off. The last spark of flame and steam fluttered from the dragon’s mouth.

Nolan turned his attention back to the attacking creatures. The death of their leader had spooked the pack. They inched back from Nolan and Mia, their confidence shaken. A moment later, they sprang into the air, flapping their wings as they bolted into the sky. It was time for them to reassess and regroup. There was no doubt they would attack again later, perhaps with a better game plan.

Mia nearly collapsed as she released the spell shield. Nolan caught her before she hit the ground. Maintaining the shield had drained all of her energy. Nolan helped her sit down and leaned her against the wall of the alcove.

Nolan lifted the visor of his helmet. He gazed at her weary face with affection. “Impressive.”

Mia wasn’t satisfied with her performance. “I’m not strong enough.”

“You’re stronger than me.”

She shook her head. “You just haven’t tapped into your potential yet.”

“Did you see my pathetic attempt? Might as well have been throwing marshmallows at them.”

Mia chuckled. “You killed one of them, didn’t you?”

Nolan’s eyes flicked to the fallen beast. He shrugged, proud of his accomplishment.

“I think you solved our dinner problem. They make good barbecue.”

Nolan grinned. “I’ll go grab some more shrubs. Think you’ve got enough spark left in you to start another fire?”

Mia scowled at him playfully. “I can start another fire. Trust me.”

Nolan stood up and headed into the darkness.

“Be careful out there.”

Nolan drew his sword and disappeared into the inky blackness. She listened as his footsteps faded into the distance.

Being alone in the dark was terrifying. Every sound that echoed in the blackness rattled Mia’s nerves. It was spooky. She felt like a child left alone. In the distance she could hear the hacking and slashing of shrubs. It was comforting, but the dead silence afterwards filled her heart with dread. She wasn’t sure if it was real or her imagination, but she thought she heard the flapping of dramoks’ wings circling high above. Adrenaline spiked her veins, sending her heart racing. She wanted to call out for Nolan, but she stifled her fear. She could only suppress the urge for a few more moments, then she cried out, “Nolan?”

There was no response.

Her pulse elevated. Her nerves tingled. “Nolan? Are you okay?”

35

The air was still and silent. Panic washed over Mia’s body. She began to fear the worst. “Nolan? Are you okay?” She shouted again.

Still nothing.

She was about to get up and go looking for him when she heard his boots crunch against the gravel. His voice filtered out of the darkness and a wave of relief washed over her.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Nolan returned with an armful of twigs and dried thorny shrubbery. He piled it on top of what remained of the coals. “You didn’t get scared, did you?”

Mia sneered at him. “Of course not. I was just, mildly, worried about you.” With a small gesture from her hand, the kindling erupted in flames.

Nolan grabbed the dramok by its haunches and dragged it away from the campsite. He unsheathed his dagger and gutted the reptile, just like he had done with the vygars back home. The creature’s internal anatomy wasn’t all that different. The armor plating was a little tougher and thicker.

With the precision of a surgeon, Nolan skinned the beast, then quartered it and cut out the tenderloins. This was enough food to last for months. He cut the tenderloin into small filets, then skewered them on the tip of his sword so he could grill them over the flames. They were supple cuts of meat and would make for good eating.

Mia severed the dramok’s horns and talons. They would fetch a good sum in the market. If Mia and Nolan were going to get off this planet, they needed goods to trade.

Nolan grilled the filets to perfection. The only thing they needed was a little seasoning, but Nolan was grateful for the meal. Things could have turned out differently—the dramoks could’ve been the ones feasting.

The two ate their fill, then waited for daybreak before setting out again. Nolan took as much meat with him as he could carry. It didn’t take long for the extra weight to feel like anchors, dragging him down to the dirt. His boots clinked against the gravel, his chest heaved for breath. More than once, Nolan thought about leaving the dramok meat for the buzzards, and other dramoks. But he had no money, and nothing to barter with, other than what he carried.

As the day wore on, his feet grew sore and his muscles burned. Traveling all day in the full sun created a stifling heat within the battle armor. His body was drenched with sweat. Even with his visor open, he felt like he was suffocating at times. Nolan had several things to be thankful for, though—dramoks weren’t attacking them, at the moment. With any luck, they’d reached the city by nightfall.

By the end of the day, Nolan’s mouth was as dry as a desert. The city of Solanavi was on the horizon, maybe another half hour’s walk. It wasn’t a sprawling mega-city by any stretch of imagination, but it was large for a colony settlement in a remote sector. Adobe style structures were nestled in the valley. It was the closest thing to an interstellar port in this hemisphere. Settlers from all over the region came to trade and barter goods and services. The marketplace was bustling, and you could find almost everything imaginable. There were multiple street vendors selling clothing, jewelry, farm animals, and food—though eating anything from a street vendor was taking your life in your own hands. Nolan and Mia walked through the streets, sizing the city up.

Nolan stopped at one of the food vendors and inquired about selling his dramok meat. The street vendor had no interest in it, but pointed him in the direction of a butcher shop. Nolan didn’t have to say anything when he walked into the establishment. The butcher took one look at the meat and knew Nolan was selling.

“Dramok meat?”

Nolan nodded.

“How old is it?”

“Fresh. Less than a day.”

The butcher was a gruff man that hadn’t shaved in a few days. He had dark hair, a round face, and a plump belly. His apron was stained with blood from the day’s work. Marbled cuts of meat sat in cold displayed cases. The butcher eyed Nolan suspiciously. “How did you come by it?”

“I killed it.”

“Impressive. Did you save the horns and talons?”

Mia nodded.

“I’ll give you 500 credits for everything.”

Mia balked. “It’s easily worth twice that.”

“Yeah, but who’s going to pay you that much?”

“It’s a free market,” Mia said. “We can shop around.”

“Be my guest. I think you’ll find my offer is high.”

“Are we talking Imperial credits, or Republic credits?”

“Republic credits.”

“750 for everything,” Mia said.

The butcher pondered this for a moment. “625.”

Mia exchanged a glance with Nolan. He was good with the amount.

“Done,” Mia said.

“Pending approval,” the butcher responded.

Nolan and Mia set the quartered meat on the counter, along with what was left of the tenderloin. The butcher looked over the meat and examined it carefully. He cut a small slice, smelled it, and ate it raw.

It made both Nolan’s and Mia’s stomachs turn. Some people found raw dramok meat to be a delicacy, but it wasn’t something that sounded appetizing to either of them.

“Does it meet with your approval?” Nolan asked.

“It’ll do. I’ve had better.” The butcher was downplaying the quality of the meat. He knew damn good and well it was top-notch. He moved to the register and fumbled for some credits. “What did I say, 525?”

“625,” Nolan and Mia said in unison.

“Right, right.” He counted out the cash and handed it to Nolan, but he held onto it as Nolan gripped it. “And the horns and talons.”

“Sure,” Nolan said.

Mia handed over the valuable accessories. Dramok horns were often used in magic rituals. People would also grind them into a fine powder and mix them in tonics. They were said to have healing properties, and were also said to enhance libido.

“I’m looking for transport off the planet.” Nolan said. “Do you have any suggestions?”

“Trade ships come in about once a month. You can buy passage, or you can pick up work as crew.”

“We don’t have a month to wait.”

The butcher hesitated a moment. “If you’re desperate, you could try JT Murphy.” He’s out past Mutter’s ridge.” The butcher looked like he regretted saying it as soon as the words slipped out of his mouth. “But, that’s if you’re desperate.”

Nolan looked curious. “What’s wrong with JT Murphy?”

36

The blistering bolts from an old-school, pump action spell rifle slammed into the ground near Nolan and Mia.

The two dove for cover as explosions near their feet showered dirt and debris into the air, pelting their armor. They hid behind two large boulders while JT Murphy blasted more haphazard shots in their general direction.

“Get the hell off my property!” JT yelled with a thick, rural accent.

He was a thin, wiry guy with red hair and a mustache. He stood in front of his house with his spell gun, wearing nothing but his underwear. He could barely stand and looked like he’d been hitting the bottle all day. A cigarette dangled from his lips, and fell to the ground when he spoke.

“Shit,” he grumbled to himself. He knelt down to retrieve the cigarette and almost fell over. He used the shotgun to steady himself as he stood back up.

Nolan yelled from behind the rock, “We hear you have a spaceship.”

“So what if I do?”

“We need passage to Mazarak. We’d like to hire you.”

Mia scowled at Nolan. “Are you sure we want to hire this guy?”

“I can see we caught you at a bad time,” Mia shouted. “We’ll just be on our way. Don’t shoot.”

JT swayed in the breeze as he pondered the situation. “How much we talkin’?”

Nolan exchanged a glance with Mia. She shrugged.

“300 credits,” Nolan said, still hiding behind the rock.

There was a long pause. “Are we talking Republic credits, or Imperial credits?”

“Republic.”

“Good. The Empire can kiss my ass!” His eyes drooped and he looked like he was going to pass out. He dozed momentarily on his feet, then his head popped back up. “I believe I can accommodate your needs.”

Nolan and Mia cautiously stood up, emerging from behind the boulders.

JT refocused his aim at Nolan. Though, in his condition, it was unlikely he would hit anything he intended. “You want to explain to me why you’re dressed as an Imperial Soturi?”

“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you all about it.”

JT kept the spell rifle pointed at Nolan for a moment. “Let’s see the money.”

Nolan dug into a pouch on his utility belt and pulled out the cash. “Half upfront, half when we reach our destination.”

JT hesitated a moment. “Deal.”

Nolan breathed a sigh of relief as Murphy lowered his weapon. “ JT staggered off, leading them around a large rock formation.

A wave of disappointment washed over Nolan as he saw the ship which had been obscured by the formation. “Is that thing even space worthy?”

JT glowered at Nolan. “If you can find something better, be my guest.”

It was a small skiff that could hold 4 to 6 people. It was dented and scarred, and lined with corrosion. It had to be at least 200 years old. There was no way this piece of crap was in working order, Nolan thought. It was doubtful the craft could even maintain atmospheric pressure. Even if it could, it would certainly break up upon re-entry. Nolan would be surprised if the pile of junk started.

“When’s the last time you flew this thing?”

JT’s puzzled face contorted. “Maybe last year.”

His response didn’t inspire confidence.

“Trust me, she runs like a charm.”

Nolan could smell the whiskey on his breath as he spoke.

“I reckon I ought to put some pants on before going to Mazarak. Let me grab a little something to eat, and we can get going.”

Nolan’s face was bathed with concern. “Are you sure you’re in proper condition to fly this thing?“

“Proper condition? I’m in the best condition of my life.”

“I mean, don’t you think you ought to sober up first?”

JT looked at him like he was crazy. “Sober? What’s that?”

Nolan was beginning to think this was a bad idea.

JT staggered back to the house. “I’m gonna make some coffee, want some?”

“Sure,” Nolan said, skeptically.

Mia glowered at Nolan, not happy about the situation at all. She grumbled under her breath. “Surely we can find a better pilot?”

Even though JT was about 20 yards away, he heard her perfectly. “No, little lady, you won’t. Not around here,” he said with a cocksure tone.

JT’s place was small and cluttered. Dishes were piled high in the sink like some type of modern art masterpiece. The structure was completely off grid, powered by fuel-cells. Moisture collectors pulled condensation out of the atmosphere and stored it in tanks which gave him running water.

JT’s food fabricator dispensed 3 cups of coffee instantly. He set them on the kitchen table before Nolan and Mia.

“Cream, sugar?” JT asked.

They both nodded.

Nolan wasn’t exactly sure about the cleanliness of the cup. But dirty mugs were the least of his worries. He mixed in the cream and sugar then took a cautious sip. His taste buds exploded with sumptuous rich tones. The coffee was surprisingly good.

“How did you come by a food fabricator?” Nolan asked. They were extremely hard to come by, especially in remote locations.

“Lucky trade,” JT said.

“You mind putting on some clothes?” Mia asked, perturbed.

“Of course. Where’s my manners. I’m not used to company.” JT slipped into the bedroom and emerged a few moments later fully dressed. He strapped on a holster that contained a spell pistol, then grabbed his long rifle and put a hat on his head. “You ready to go?”

Nolan nodded.

JT guzzled the rest of his coffee. “Let’s get cracking.”

He held out his hand. It took Nolan a moment to realize what he wanted. Nolan dug into his pouch and gave him half of the 300 credits. JT stuffed them in his pocket.

“Where exactly are you going on Mazarak?”

“That’s private,” Nolan said.

“Well, it ain’t going be private for long. I’ve got to set you down somewhere.”

“We’re looking for the Tomb of Eldür.”

“Good luck finding that.”

“I have a map, of sorts.”

JT arched an interested eyebrow. “Can I see this map?”

Nolan exchanged a wary glance with Mia.

She shrugged, why not?

Nolan pulled out the shimmering medallion and JT’s eyes rounded. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know the medallion was of considerable worth for the gold and jewels alone. “I’m thinking maybe I didn’t charge you folks enough.”

“I think you’re charging plenty,” Nolan said.

“ Well, I guess a deal’s a deal.” JT marched out the front door.

Nolan and Mia followed behind him.

JT pressed his hand on the bio scanner and locked the door behind him, then ambled to the skiff. He was still weaving from side to side, but it seemed the coffee had perked him up a bit.

The trio climbed the ramp to the spacecraft. JT slid into the pilot seat and fastened his safety harness. He pressed buttons and flicked switches, and the control cluster came to life. He ran through a series of preflight checks—all systems came back green.

Nolan sat in the copilot’s seat. He strapped himself down and looked over the craft with trepidation. “This is old-school.”

JT grinned. “They don’t make them like this anymore.”

There was nothing magical about the craft. It was plain and simple, without enchanted technology. A relic of the old world. It was powered by an extended duration fuel-cell. When that was drained, JT would have to trade or barter for another. If one wasn’t available, the craft would be no more than a huge eyesore.

JT flicked a switch and sealed the back hatch. Another switch spun up the main engines. The craft rumbled as the thrusters roared to life. They weren’t even airborne yet and loose panels were rattling.

Mia swallowed hard, her eyes wide. She clutched the armrest of the chair, white knuckled. Her face was pale, and a thin mist of sweat beaded on her forehead.

“Never flown before?” Nolan asked.

Mia was too petrified to speak. She just shook her head.

“It’s not that bad.” Nolan said, trying to reassure her, even though his faith in the craft was waning.

JT engaged the vertical thrusters and the skiff lifted off the ground. The air rippled beneath the thrusters as the craft ascended. JT pulled back on the controls and angled the vehicle towards the sky.

He throttled up the rear thrusters, and the force jolted Nolan against his seat back. The acceleration was intense. Nolan could feel his skin plastered against his skull from the G-force.

JT grinned. “She’s got some get up and go, doesn’t she?”

Nolan nodded.

The skiff rumbled and shook as it blazed into the upper atmosphere. Nolan was sure the damn thing was going to fall apart. It was like traveling down a dirt road pocked with potholes at 100 miles an hour.

About the time Nolan figured the craft was going to break up, the ride became as smooth as glass. He felt his ass lift from the seat as they entered the weightlessness of space. His safety harness was the only thing holding him down.

Nolan glanced around the cabin. It seemed to be maintaining atmosphere. His gaze met Mia’s. She looked pale and sickly, one step away from hurling. “You okay?”

She managed a weak nod.

“Mazarak is in that Draconis Major sector,” Nolan said.

“I know where it is,” JT responded.

“It’s roughly 2000 light years away. The ship isn’t big enough to have an FTL drive. I probably should’ve asked this before, but how exactly are we going to get there?”

A mischievous grin curled up on JT’s face. He pulled out an amber vile that contained a fine powder. He tapped out a little bit on the dash, then snorted it. He screwed the cap on the vial and stuck it back into his pocket.

Nolan’s eyes widened with surprise. “You’re a bender?”

“That will be our little secret. It’s not something I advertise. The Empire tends to enslave us. I have no desire to jump Imperial dreadnoughts from one end of the galaxy to the other until my brain is fried.”

From what Nolan could see, JT’s brain was already a little compromised. “How does it work?”

“Beats the dog shit out of me?” JT said. “All I know is that little powder gets me high as all fuck. Allows me to be one with the Universe,” he said with a blissful smile. “Then I just think about where I want to go and, boom, I’m there.”

“But it’s addictive, isn’t it? And it causes brain damage.”

JT pulled out a bottle of whiskey from a compartment in the center console. “That’s why I stay lubricated. Protects against negative side effects.”

It seemed like far from an exact science. The benders aboard the dreadnought had jumped the ship across the galaxy thousands of times without issue. Never once did Nolan give it a second thought. But now, he couldn’t hide his concern. “Have you ever ended up someplace other than where you intended?”

JT thought about it. “Well… My whole life has gone a little bit different than I expected. Not exactly where I thought I would be.”

“No, I mean, have you ever jumped the ship—“

“I know what you meant. It happens, sometimes. But it’s no big deal. If we’re in the wrong place, we just jump to the right place—as long as we don’t transport too close to a star, or inside a planet. That could be bad.”

37

JT grabbed the controls and closed his eyes. That’s when things got weird.

Time dilated.

Nolan felt twisted. The skiff moved across space-time like gliding through a dream. For a fraction of an instant, Nolan couldn’t distinguish himself from his surroundings, existing somewhere in the aether. Everything seemed to blur into one, like a crazy acid trip. Then everything snapped back to normal.

The skiff emerged, gliding through the inky blackness of space near Mazarak. Over 2000 light years traveled in a fraction of a second. The whole process felt somewhat more intense than it had upon the dreadnought. Perhaps it was the smaller scale with a closer proximity to the bender?

Nolan’s eyes glanced back to Mia. “How are you holding up?”

She gave the thumbs-up signal, but she looked like hell. “I don’t think I’m a fan of space travel.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Nolan said with a reassuring grin.

JT angled the skiff toward the lush green planet that lay ahead. “What brings you to Mazarak? Why do you seek the Tomb of Eldür”

“That’s private business.”

“Okay. Not trying to be nosy or anything. Just making conversation.” He paused a long moment. “It’s just that, no one ever comes here.”

“What do you mean?”

JT started his descent into the planet’s atmosphere. The skiff rumbled and shook. The rattles were almost deafening. The craft soared through the clouds and plummeted to the surface.

The planet looked like a tropical paradise. There were vast oceans and expansive rainforests. But there wasn’t any sign of civilization—not that Nolan could see. Of course, he was only glimpsing at a fraction of the planet.

“You were saying?” Nolan asked, his curiosity piqued.

“Let’s just say this isn’t a popular tourist spot. The indigenous population is rather… unwelcoming,” JT said, putting it mildly.

Nolan had a disconcerted look on his face.

The thick green canopy of the jungle made it impossible to see the ground, from above. JT circled the area, looking for a clearing to land. He set the skiff down about a mile from the entrance to the tomb that was carved into the mountain. “Well, here you go!”

Nolan looked out the window at the dense jungle with trepidation.

JT held out his hand, expecting the other half of his payment.

Nolan glanced at it perplexed for a moment, then realized. “Oh, right. He handed JT 150 credits.

“Do you want me to wait for you?”

“That would be nice. I don’t think there is another way off this planet.” Nolan was a little surprised, of course he wanted JT to wait for them. It seemed like a silly question.

“The fee we negotiated was for a one-way trip. Round tickets will cost a little extra.”

Nolan arched an eyebrow at him. “How much extra?”

JT shrugged. “600 credits.”

Nolan’s eyes widened. “What? You charged 300 to get here.”

“Law of supply and demand. If you think you can find another ride off this rock, then be my guest.”

Nolan’s face tensed, and he clenched his jaw. “Fine. 600.”

JT flashed a smarmy smile.

Nolan unbuckled his safety harness and started to climb out of the seat.

“I require half up front,” JD said.

Nolan dug into his pouch and gave him 300 credits. It was all he had. He figured he’d work out the rest later. “You’re going to wait right here, correct?”

“You got it, boss.”

Nolan frowned at him, then moved toward the back hatch. JT pressed the button and the hatch opened. As the ramp lowered, they were hit with the hot muggy air of the jungle. It was like being slapped in the face with a wet sock.

Nolan and Mia descended the ramp and stepped into the lush green grass.

JT sealed the hatch behind them. He knew the dangers of the jungle, and was going to keep himself safe and sound inside the skiff. Having traveled far and wide across the galaxy he knew better than to get out and explore strange planets. There was no telling what you might encounter. Everything from ferocious animals to poisonous plants. In a place like this, the insects would be thick, and likely carrying disease. JT didn’t want any part of that.

Nolan and Mia marched through the high grass into the jungle. It was alive with sounds of birds and small creatures. Wind rustled the leaves on the trees. The buzz of insects whined. Creepy crawly things slithered about.

Nolan unsheathed his sword and used it to hack his way through the dense foliage. It took mountains of effort to move a few feet. Nolan was heaving for breath and dripping in sweat. The jungle was the kind of place that could take you down in less than an hour if you weren’t careful. There was a reason the planet had remained uninhabited for eons—it was nothing short of treacherous.

There had been several attempts to colonize it in the past, which were always met with the same fate. If the colonists survived disease and infection, they only lived to become food for the predators.

It made an ideal location for a hidden tomb.

Nolan kept plowing through the thick underbrush. He cut the trail, and Mia followed behind him. They descended downhill and came to a small stream. The water rushing over the rocks sounded soothing. But there was no telling what was in that water.

Nolan paused to catch his breath. “Do you think we’ll find anything in the tomb?” Nolan was beginning to have doubts. “Or do you think this whole thing is just some fairytale?”

“It’s not a fairytale,” Mia said defiantly.

“How do you know?”

“Because I have faith. Something you should have a little more of.”

Nolan could see she was getting agitated. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m just saying, what if we get there and there is no sword?”

“Then we find another way to defeat Valdovar.”

Nolan liked her spirit.

He was about to cross the stream when he heard a twig snap. His head twisted in the direction of the sound, and his eyes narrowed, scanning the foliage. It was hard to tell what was out there, but Nolan could sense a presence.

“Let’s keep moving,” Mia said.

Nolan agreed.

They crossed the stream, sloshing through knee-deep water. They climbed up the bank on the other side, using roots and vines to pull themselves up.

Going down the ravine had been a challenge, going up the incline was even worse. Nolan felt he was taking two steps backwards for every step forward. His lungs were on fire, and his quads burned as he climbed through the forest. He kept hearing rustling leaves on either side of him, and behind. There was no doubt about it, something was definitely following them.

Multiple somethings.

It reminded him of the way the vygars hunted in packs back home. But he had a sneaking suspicion these were far worse than vygars.

38

Razor-sharp teeth, golden eyes, and blue and green scales emerged from the thick foliage in a ferocious blur. The creature was somewhere between a snake and a lizard. It stood about 15 feet tall. Its powerful hind legs rippled with muscle. Its forearms had talons like carving knives. The creature’s long neck allowed it to strike like a viper.

The overgrown snake-lizard spit venom at Nolan. He sidestepped and prepared to attack the beast. The slimy venom had landed on a nearby plant, disintegrating it like acid. Wisps of smoke wafted from the leaves as the plant dissolved.

Nolan wasn’t sure whether his armor would withstand such a substance. He zigged and zagged as he charged the creature. He hacked at the beast’s neck, chopping with lightning speed. The steel carved through flesh and bone, severing the lizard’s cervical spine. Blood spurted from arteries. The creature’s body writhed and convulsed while its head squirmed on the ground, still snapping its jaws.

Nolan spun around to assist Mia, who was fighting off another one of the creatures that had attacked from the opposite direction. The beast spit a streak of green venom that was heading straight toward her.

With the wave of her hand Mia produced a spell shield that deflected the acidic saliva.

The creature hissed at her, his reptilian tongue flickering.

Mia formed a ball of energy in the palm of her hand and threw it like a fastball at the creature. It smacked him right in the mouth, wedging into the back of his throat.

The beast looked like it was about to have a seizure as it choked on the ball of energy. It tried to cough it out to no avail. An instant later, the blistering ball of energy exploded, spewing fragments of bone and blood in all directions. The creature’s lifeless body flopped to the ground, still twitching.

Mia breathed a sigh of relief.

“Impressive.”

“I wasn’t sure if that was going to work or not.” Mia smiled.

“This place isn’t so tough after all,” Nolan said with a cocky grin. But his grin faded as the snap of branches and tree trunks crackled through the jungle. Another reptilian creature, towering three stories in the air, plowed through the trees. It was a bigger version of the snake-lizards, and it was pissed off.

Nolan suspected this was the parent of the two smaller ones. Perhaps they had been out on a family hunting expedition?

Even with Mia’s magic, and Nolan’s swordsmanship, standing and fighting this behemoth would have been suicide. Nolan’s eyes rounded at the site of the terrifying creature. “Run!”

He pulled Mia out of harms way and ushered her forward. The two plowed through the underbrush as fast as possible.

The creature kept steamrolling through the forest, knocking aside trees and other foliage in his path. The thick trees were slowing down the creature as much as they were slowing down Nolan and Mia.

The two barreled up the side of the mountain, heading for the entrance to the Tomb of Eldür.

The towering creature hissed and spit a glob of venom. It was like a storm of acid rain.

Mia created a spell shield behind them, deflecting the deadly venom. The acidic slime bounced off the shield and dripped down its domed shape, disintegrating foliage that came into contact with it.

Mia and Nolan continued racing through the jungle as fast as they could. They streaked past two totems guarding the entrance to the tomb. Hieroglyphics carved into the stone warned of the dangers of entering the tomb and the consequences of desecration.

A stone face was carved into the mountainside. It was intricate and stylized. The open-mouth of the face was the entrance to the tomb.

Nolan and Mia dashed into the entryway as the creature behind them crashed through the totems, toppling the stone structures to the ground.

The overgrown lizard rammed his head into the tunnel, chasing after Mia and Nolan as they ran through the passageway. The beast’s long neck penetrated the tunnel, but its shoulders slammed against the mouth, stopping it in its tracks. The creature screeched and its neck wiggled. It spit another glob of stinging venom, but Nolan and Mia were already well out of range.

The demon’s angry hisses and screeches filled the passageway, echoing throughout the tomb. It was enough to wake the dead.

The creature was in an uncontrollable rage at the loss of its young. It kept ramming into the temple, attempting to force its way in, but its thick torso prevented access. The mouth of the tunnel carved into its flesh as it kept trying to squeeze through. It couldn’t make itself small enough to fit. After exhausting itself, the demon slowly retracted from the entryway.

Hieroglyphics lined the walls of the passageway. Cobwebs dangled from the ceiling. Sconces that had long been extinguished lined the walls. The passage ahead lay in total darkness as daylight from the entrance faded.

With a wave of her hand, Mia ignited the sconces. A wave of amber flames cascaded through the entire structure as the sconces lit up one by one. Mia moved forward, sword drawn.

“I have got to learn how to do that,” Nolan said, envious.

“It comes in handy at birthday parties,” she said with a sly grin.

Nolan chuckled at the thought of someone continually blowing out candles that re-ignited.

His amusement was short-lived, however. An eerie groan echoed throughout the chamber. It made the hairs on the back of Nolan’s neck stand tall. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, as if the tomb itself was exhaling. Nolan felt a gust of wind against his face. “What the hell was that?”

Mia shrugged.

The wall sconces flickered out, and Nolan and Mia were enveloped in complete darkness.

Mia waved her hand and the sconces re-ignited again. The two exchanged a wary glance then inched forward down the passageway.

39

A stone door at the end of the main passageway sealed the burial chamber. There was a depression in the stone that matched the shape of the medallion.

Nolan grabbed the artifact from his pouch and placed the medallion into the depression. The massive stone door that had been sealed for centuries slid open, revealing Eldür’s burial chamber. It was a circular room with a domed ceiling. The crypt sat atop a riser in the center of the room.

Mia waved her hand, and the wall sconces within the burial chamber flickered to life.

Nolan took the medallion from the depression and slipped it back into his pouch.

The crypt looked as if it was made of marble. It had intricate carvings, and ornate designs. The chamber was fit for a king, and no expense had been spared in its creation. Gold and rare gems adorned every aspect of the chamber.

Nolan and Mia took a cautious step inside.

It smelled damp and musty. Everything was covered with a thick coat of dust. Spiders and centipedes crawled along the walls.

Nolan expected the tomb to be booby-trapped, but so far they had encountered no such resistance. It seemed a little too good to be true, especially after everything he had heard.

He moved to the crypt and attempted to push aside the heavy lid. “Give me a hand with this, would you?”

Together they pushed the heavy slab aside. It fell from the crypt and slammed against the stone floor, cracking. The thunderous impact rumbled through the entire tomb.

Nolan and Mia exchanged a guilty glance.

“Whoops,” Nolan said.

They both gazed into the crypt to see an ancient skeleton, clothed in tattered fabric that had long since disintegrated. The skeleton clutched the Sword of Destiny across its chest in peaceful repose, untouched for centuries.

Nolan was about to reach for the sword when trouble manifested itself. He wouldn’t have believed it if he didn’t see it with his own eyes—two spectral knights appeared out of thin air. They were translucent phantoms, dressed in full battle armor and wielding swords. Restless spirits who’s sole purpose was to defend the tomb, bound to an existence in between life and death for all eternity.

The two knights charged Mia and Nolan. They attacked, hacking and slashing with their swords. Nolan brought his blade up to block the attack, but he wasn’t sure what good it was going to do against an apparition. They were non-corporeal beings. They had no flesh, no bone. How could you kill something that wasn’t alive, Nolan wondered?

Nolan cringed as the knight’s blade struck down. But he was pleasantly relieved to hear his blade clink against the knight’s sword. These knights may have been specters, but the damage their blades could inflict were very real.

Nolan and Mia continued to defend themselves against the spirits. The sound of clashing steel echoed off the stone walls of the chamber. The spirits were highly skilled swordsman. Their attack was testing the limits of Nolan’s ability. He dodged and parried, deflecting furious blows. He stabbed the tip of his sword through one of the specters at the first opportunity, but it was like stabbing into thin air. It didn’t seem to affect the knight in the least.

Nolan’s attack had left him vulnerable. The knight spun around and slashed at Nolan’s thigh, carving through his armor. Nolan could feel the edge of the specter’s blade slice through his thigh. It wasn’t deep, but enough to draw blood and let Nolan know that the specters could be deadly.

Mia met the same difficulty as she fought the other knight. She tried to protect herself with a spell shield, but the knight passed through it unhindered.

She tried attacking him with balls of energy, but each throw passed through the specter and impacted the walls of the burial chamber. Bits of stone and debris showered from the impact, rumbling the tomb.

“Hey, go easy with that,” Nolan shouted in between attacks. “We don’t want this tomb collapsing.”

“I don’t see what difference it makes,” she said. “At this rate, we’re not making it out of this chamber alive!”

“That’s what I like about you. Always full of optimism.”

The specter’s blade hammered down, clanking against Nolan’s sword as he blocked the blow. Nolan and Mia continued to defend themselves against the incessant attacks. The knights were good.

Too good.

Nolan found himself pushed back against the crypt. The knight moved with blinding speed and precision, hacking and slashing. It was everything Nolan could do to block the attacks. But despite his talent, he was outmatched. His muscles grew weary, and his reaction times were slower. It all happened in a blur. He was holding his own, then he wasn’t. He felt the sharp sting of the specter’s blade pierce into his abdomen.

The specter thrust the blade through until Nolan could feel it exit through his lower back, severing the quadratus lumborum. It was a miracle it didn’t sever his spinal cord. But it didn’t make much difference. For all intents and purposes, Nolan was dead. Or, at least, he would be in a matter of moments.

The specter withdrew his sword, and watched his victim falter.

Nolan hunched over, clutching his belly. Blood poured from the wound, trickling down his armor.

Mia shrieked with terror, but she had no time to address his injury. She was fighting for her life.

Seeing that Nolan’s life force was flickering away, the specter turned his attention to Mia. The two ganged up on her.

Nolan dropped his sword. It clamored to the ground. Something told him to grab the Sword of Destiny from the crypt. He who wielded the sword was supposedly invincible. It was time to put that to the test.

Nolan grabbed the hilt and yanked it from the skeleton’s hands. Dust flew from the blade as he lifted it from the crypt. Nolan felt a surge of energy rush through him. The wound in his stomach stopped bleeding. He felt no pain. It was if the sword had renewed his life force. He pushed away from the crypt and stormed toward the knights. He stabbed the mystical blade into the back of one of the specters. This time it wasn’t like stabbing into thin air—Nolan felt the resistance of flesh and bone.

The knight materialized around the blade, no longer a phantom, but a real flesh and blood human being.

Nolan pulled the blade from the knight’s back. It was covered in blood. The warrior fell to the ground, writhing in agony, blood pooling on the stone floor.

Nolan wasted no time engaging the last remaining specter. The apparition turned to defend itself. Now it was a fair fight. The playing field had been leveled. Blades clashed as the two fought furiously. But Nolan no longer felt tired. His injury had seemingly healed. He was quicker, and the sword felt light and effortless in his hand. His mind seemed more focused. He could somehow anticipate his opponent’s move.

He attacked the knight with newfound skill, driving him back. Nolan plunged the blade into the specter’s chest. His corporeal form materialized, just as the other knight’s had done. Blood spurted from the wound. Nolan withdrew his sword and watched the guardian collapse.

Nolan had a slight pang of guilt as he looked over the bodies of the fallen defenders. There was no telling how long they had been the guardians of the tomb. They sacrificed their lives in defense of something they believed in, and Nolan found that to be honorable. He hoped that taking the sword from the tomb was the right thing to do.

He held out the blade and gazed at it with amazement.

Mia rushed to his side. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he replied, somewhat astonished.

Mia examined Nolan’s abdomen. There was a hole in the armor, and blood crusted on the surface. But Nolan’s wound was completely healed. Her eyes widened with astonishment. “How is that possible?”

“I thought you were the one with all the faith?”

Mia fumbled for words, somewhat dazed. “I am. I mean, I just didn’t expect…” She didn’t know what to say.

“Well, the sword is rumored to convey healing properties,” Nolan said, still mesmerized by the blade. “I would never have believed it if I didn’t see it with my own eyes.”

The tomb rumbled and the ground began to shake. What started as a subtle vibration grew to a tremendous quake. The walls cracked, and the ceiling crumbled. Chunks of stone fell from above.

Nolan grabbed Mia’s hand and pulled her down the passageway. They ran as fast as they could toward the exit, the tunnel crumbling behind them. The odds of making it to the exit were slim.

40

Large chunks of rock fell from the ceiling, smashing against the stone floor. Nolan and Mia dodged the falling debris as they raced for the exit. The sound was deafening as the passageway collapsed behind them. The quaking rumbled through the entire mountainside.

Brilliant sunlight filtered in at the end of the tunnel. Nolan sprinted as fast as he could. He sucked in heavy breaths of air, and his legs were on fire. Massive chunks of stone, falling from the ceiling, nipped at their heels as they ran.

Nolan and Mia dove out of the tunnel, tumbling into the verdant grass as the passageway flattened behind them. A rush of dust and debris blew out the passageway like a last breath. The face that had been carved into the side of the mountain cracked, and a large portion tumbled down.

Nolan grabbed Mia and pulled her out of the way as massive fragments of stone attempted to flatten them. Both of them were covered in a fine coat of dust. Nolan’s eyes found Mia’s, and the panic in their faces turned to relief. It was a close call and neither one had been certain they were going to make it out alive.

The relief in their eyes faded as they quickly realized they were surrounded by Imperial Soturi. The barrels of a dozen angry spell rifles were pointing straight at them.

Nolan had experienced the power of the sword firsthand, but he still was not entirely sure it would protect him from the effects of a dozen spell rifles.

Valdovar emerged from the foliage with a diabolical grin on his face. “I see you have retrieved my sword for me.”

Nolan stood defiant, gripping the sword, ready to attack. “The sword doesn’t belong to you.”

“Of course it does. You will hand it over to me.” Valdovar’s demonic eyes grew intense. They stared into Nolan’s, piercing into his very being.

Nolan felt Valdovar’s words rumble in his head, compelling him to relinquish the sword. Valdovar was trying to control his mind, but Nolan resisted. His body tensed as he tried to fight the compulsion. He trembled slightly, and his face flushed. Nolan found it difficult to speak, but he summoned all his focus and resisted. “No. You can’t have it,” Nolan growled through gritted teeth.

Valdovar looked surprised. Never had anyone defied him before. His face crinkled with anger. Then, in a slow, low rumble he commanded, “You will give me the sword. Now!”

Nolan felt the demon’s voice swirl around him. It was as if the very sound was attempting to move Nolan’s hands, forcing him to turn over the weapon.

“I will not yield the sword.”

“You may be invincible at the moment…” Valdovar’s eyes flicked to Mia. “But she is not.”

Nolan grimaced.

“Do you think you can stop a dozen spell rifles from incinerating her?” His words hung in the air like smoke.

Nolan’s eyes flicked from Valdovar to Mia.

“Don’t give him the sword,” she pleaded.

“I’m going to give you to the count of three,” Valdovar said. “Then she dies.”

“Then there would be nothing to stop me from killing you,” Nolan replied.

Valdovar shrugged. “Perhaps. But are you willing to let an innocent girl die?”

Nolan felt like he was going to explode. This was his chance to exact his revenge. Now he was torn between two possible choices.

Mia’s distraught eyes pleaded with him not to relinquish the sword.

“You have my word, I will spare both of your lives if you hand me the sword,” Valdovar said.

Nolan hesitated for a long moment. He lowered the sword and reluctantly handed it to Valdovar.

The demon grabbed the hilt with a maniacal glimmer in his eyes. He held the blade high in the air. He felt the power of the sword rush through him, and he basked in its glory. “There is no one that can stop me now.”

His troops gazed at him with reverence.

“Take the prisoners back to the dreadnought. I’ll decide their fate later.” Valdovar’s eyes stared into Nolan. “I am a man of my word. You both shall live. But your quality-of-life may be a different story entirely.” An almost imperceptible grin curled on his lips.

Nolan felt the barrel of a spell rifle nudge him between his shoulder blades. The Soturi marched the prisoners back through the jungle.

Nolan felt hollow. The entire galaxy would live under the tyranny and control of Lord Valdovar because of his actions.

Mia refused to make eye contact with Nolan. The scowl wasn’t coming off her face anytime soon. Nolan tried to say something to her, but she cut him off abruptly.

“Don’t even try to talk to me right now,” she said in a low growl. She didn’t make it another two steps before she went off on him. “How could you do that? What were you thinking? My life is insignificant in the scheme of things. You had a chance to end this.”

Nothing Nolan said was going to change the situation. It was a decision that he was going to second-guess for the rest of his life.

41

The Soturi marched Mia and Nolan through the thick foliage, back toward the clearing. Nolan heard the familiar rustle in the forest, and the heavy stomp of footsteps. A spike of fear and adrenaline rushed through his body. He was both elated and terrified. He knew exactly what was stalking them.

The giant lizard emerged from the trees, its shrill shriek piercing the air, taking the Soturi completely off guard. They spun to attack the creature, but it was too late—it had spit a stream of acidic venom that blanketed the area.

The deadly substance splattered against the Soturi armor, burning through it on contact. The composite plating bubbled and disintegrated like gasoline poured into a styrofoam cup. Flesh sizzled like bacon as the venom devoured soft tissue.

Mia created a spell shield that protected Nolan and herself from the deadly spray. Valdovar had done the same, but he didn’t bother to protect his troops.

Chaos ensued.

Nolan took the opportunity to swipe a spell rifle from one of the wounded Soturi. He unleashed a torrent of weapons fire at the creature. Bolts of energy blasted into its scaly skin. But it was like trying to take down a T-Rex with a pellet gun.

The creature winced with pain as bolts of energy tore through its flesh.

Mia grabbed a spell rifle from a fallen Soturi and opened fire as well.

Valdovar summoned a powerful ball of energy in his palm and hurled it at the beast. It was an odd moment when all three of them were fighting on the same team.

The creature squealed as Valdovar’s energy impacted its chest, staggering the beast. His powerful magic inflicted a serious wound. Chunks of flesh and blood splattered the trees.

The creature stayed on its feet. It struck at Valdovar, gnashing it’s razor-sharp teeth.

Valdovar dodged as the beast repeatedly attacked.

Nolan and Mia kept pummeling the creature with the spell rifles until they ran dry.

The constant attacks from multiple angles distracted the beast. It gave Valdovar enough time to hurl another ball of energy. It smacked the creature in the face, mangling its left side.

The beast struck at Valdovar again. He dodged the attack, and with lightning quick reflexes he hacked the sword into the creature’s long neck, severing its flesh down to the spinal column. Blood spurted from its carotid arteries. Its head dangled from its neck. The creature writhed and flailed about, crashing into trees and whipping its tail until it finally bled out and fell to the ground with a thunderous thud.

The forest grew silent, now that the mayhem was over. The occasional twitching of the creature’s carcass remained.

Valdovar’s wicked gaze turned toward Nolan and Mia. Now that the battle with the creature was over, they were no longer comrades in arms.

Nolan grabbed a sword from a fallen Soturi. He stood in a defensive posture.

A smug smirk curled on Valdovar’s lips. “Why do you even bother? You know you will fall before me.”

Nolan said nothing. Fear raced through his body. He knew he was no match for the Dark Lord.

“You should have killed me when you had the chance,” Valdovar said.

Mia created a spell shield around the two of them.

Valdovar laughed. “Your magic is no match for mine.” With a wave of his hand he obliterated the shield.

Mia summoned a ball of energy and heaved it at Valdovar.

He deflected it with the blade of his sword.

Mia threw another, then another.

Valdovar batted them all away. With a thrust of his wrist he sent Mia flying back through the air. It was like she had been hit with an invisible cannon that launched her through the jungle. She slammed into a tree trunk and cracked her head. She fell to the ground unconscious.

Nolan clenched his jaw. He gripped the hilt of his sword tight.

“Her magic is not going to be able to save you now,” Valdovar cackled.

Nolan charged at the demon, but he didn’t get very far. Valdovar held out his hand to stop him, and an invisible force seemed to restrain him.

Nolan summoned all his strength and broke free of the force. He continued advancing toward Valdovar, whose eyes were wide with surprise.

“Impressive.” Valdovar seemed amused. He was always confident, but now his arrogance grew beyond measure. As Nolan had experienced, wielding the sword produced an almost euphoric sensation. It made the wielder feel skillful and confident. It seemed to maximize one’s ability, allowing the user to always bring their A game.

“Tell you what. Let’s make this a fair fight,” Valdovar said. “Just the two of us and our swords. No magic.”

Nolan’s face filled with rage. He lunged at the demon. It was an acceptance of the terms. Their swords clashed, the clank of metal echoing through the jungle.

Valdovar blocked Nolan’s repeated attacks. Then, with blinding speed, he slashed at Nolan’s torso.

Nolan dodged and swung hard at the Emperor.

Valdovar blocked his attack once again and the two exchanged furious blows. The uneven terrain made the battle difficult. It was easy to trip over thick roots or fallen branches or slip on the slick grass.

Nolan was exhausted. His heart pounded in his chest, and his lungs heaved for breath.

Valdovar didn’t seem to tire at all, and soon he gained the advantage. Nolan staggered as he tripped over a root, trying to evade an attack. He steadied himself and blocked Valdovar’s sword. The impact rattled his bones. He felt each strike jolt through his hand and up his arm. Valdovar already possessed superhuman strength, and the sword seemed to increase that.

The Emperor struck again. Nolan blocked the blow, but the strength of his blade was no match for the mystical steel of the Sword of Destiny. It severed Nolan’s blade in two. He was left with only the hilt and a few inches of the jagged blade. Events were unfolding just like the Font had predicted.

Valdovar towered overhead, ready to strike the final blow.

42

Valdovar stabbed the blade through Nolan’s chest. It pierced the armor like a it were paper, breaking through his ribs, slicing through organs. Nolan gasped for breath, gurgling as his lungs filled with fluid.

Valdovar removed the blade and gloated over his kill. “Fool. You lost this fight before it began. My flesh cannot be killed.” Valdovar sighed, clutching the crystal pendant around his neck. “It was a valiant effort though.”

Nolan glanced up at the victorious demon. His eyes fixed on the crystal pendant around Valdovar’s neck. A wave of realization washed over him. He remembered Valdovar had clutched the pendant before on the dreadnought when he first demonstrated that he was invincible. Perhaps the crystal was Valdovar’s amenkonti?

If he could destroy the crystal, perhaps he could destroy Valdovar?

The knowledge wasn’t going to do Nolan much good now. His heartbeat was a dull thud that echoed in his ear. The world grew dim as his vision began to fade. Nolan was suffocating on his own blood as it filled his lungs. He tried to cling onto life, but everything went black.

His heartbeat thumped one last time.

Nolan went still.

His eyes were fixed and dilated, staring at the verdant canopy of foliage above him. All traces of life had left his body.

Valdovar marched back through the jungle to the clearing, where the dropship was waiting for him. He climbed the back ramp, and moments later the craft ascended into the sky. Its thrusters throttled up, and the craft rocketed toward the upper atmosphere. The sound of the engines rippled through the air.

Mia stirred in time to hear the last echoes of the dropship rumbling away. She was dazed, not sure what had happened. Her worried eyes scanned the forest, looking for Nolan. She saw corpses of the fallen Soturi, their bodies burned and mutilated by the lizard’s venom.

She sprang to her feet and her eyes finally fixed on Nolan’s body. Her face contorted in horror. An agonizing screech billowed from her mouth.

She ran to Nolan’s body and knelt down beside him. Tears welled in her eyes, streaming down her cheeks “No, no, no! You can’t die.”

Mia was utterly distraught. Besides the fact that she believed Nolan was the one of the prophecy, she had another reason to be upset—she had let her feelings for Nolan grow strong. Her heart ached, and it felt like an anchor was pulling her down into the pits of hell. Her stomach churned, and she sobbed uncontrollably.

She thrust her arms around Nolan and hugged him for one final time. Then she remembered the Elixir of Life that Master Tong had given Nolan. She reached into his pouch and pulled out the vial containing the pearlescent liquid. It seemed to glitter in the dappled rays of sunlight that filtered through the jungle canopy.

Mia stared at the liquid for a long hard moment. Then she unscrewed the lid and put the vial to her plush lips. She tilted the small container back and the elixir flowed over her tongue.

She swallowed it down and a wave of warmth rushed through her entire body extending to her fingertips and toes. Then, with tears in her eyes, she pressed her lips to Nolan’s and blew life into his body. At the same time, she was exhaling her life force.

Mia stared at him one last time, and as Nolan’s chest filled with breath, Mia collapsed. Her body fell limp alongside his.

Nolan’s eyes opened. He sat up, gasping for air. His confused eyes looked around, trying to get his bearings. He saw Mia’s lifeless body next to his, still clutching the empty vial. He knew exactly what she had done, and his face filled with anguish.

“No!” he screamed. His tortured voice echoed throughout the forest.

Nolan attempted to resuscitate Mia, but it was no use. Despite his efforts, he couldn’t breathe life back into her lungs. His eyes brimmed with tears. He finally had to give up his attempts to bring her back.

Nolan felt sick to his stomach and unworthy. Mia didn’t deserve to die, and she certainly shouldn’t have sacrificed herself for him. He was sure Mia had done it because she believed he was the one to fulfill the prophecy, but Nolan knew he wasn’t. He felt like a liar and a cheat for not telling her what the Font of Truth had shown him. Perhaps she would still be alive, he thought?

Nolan scooped up her body and cradled her in his arms. He carried her back through the jungle to the clearing.

It was empty. Only the matted grass where the landing pylons of the heavy dropship had been.

Nolan grumbled under his breath, cursing at JT for abandoning them. There was no way off the planet. There wasn’t an outpost or colony to be found on the entire desolate world. He could easily spend a lifetime on this godforsaken rock and not see another soul. But with the amount of danger present on the planet, a lifetime wasn’t going to be that long.

43

Nolan’s eyes flicked to the sky as he heard the rumble of engines ripple in the clouds. He thought for an instant that Valdovar’s dropship was returning, but the tone of the engines were different. He watched with amazement as JT’s skiff descended from the clouds. The vertical thrusters blew the tall grass flat as it landed in the clearing.

Nolan carried Mia’s body up the ramp, into the cargo bay.

JT’s eyes filled with sadness. “Let’s get her into a suspension chamber.”

“What?”

“A suspension chamber. It will put her body in a quantum superposition. That will give us time to get her to a med facility, or to a powerful sorcerer.”

“You know one who can revive the dead?”

JT shrugged. “I know someone who may be able to help. There’s always a matter of cost, though.”

“I’ll pay whatever it takes.”

“That’s not what I meant. Depending on the magic, sometimes what comes back isn’t the same as what left, if you catch my drift.”

Nolan cringed at the thought.

He helped JT put Mia in one of the quantum suspension chambers. They powered up the capsule, then sealed her inside. “Are you sure this thing is going to work?”

“It’s old technology, but they built this ship solid.” JT tapped on the capsule and the display panel flickered.

Nolan gave JT a wary glance.

“Not to worry. Just a glitch.” JT forced a reassuring smile, but somehow it didn’t quite do the job.

“Glitches are what I’m afraid of.”

JT pressed buttons on the display panel, then activated the suspension field. Mia’s body turned into a haze of particles.

Nolan gazed at the suspension chamber with concern. “Have you ever used one of these before?”

“On occasion.”

“And what was the outcome?”

JT flashed another smile that was an attempt to be reassuring. “They work… pretty good.”

Pretty good was less than ideal, but Nolan didn’t have a choice.

JT spun around and climbed into the pilot’s seat. He flicked switches and pressed buttons, powering up the craft, running through the preflight checks.

Nolan buckled his safety harness in the copilot’s seat.

JT engaged the vertical thrusters, and the skiff lifted off the ground. As the craft crested the jungle canopy, JT pulled on the controls, angling towards space. He throttled up, and once again, Nolan was slammed against his seat-back. He felt like his teeth were going to rattle out of his skull as the turbulent air caused the small skiff to quake violently. Nolan was relieved when they reached the smooth weightlessness of space. He was getting used to space travel, but takeoff and re-entry weren’t his favorite aspects.

The dreadnought was still in orbit around Mazarak. The sight of it sent a jolt of adrenaline through Nolan’s body. Fear, anger, and hatred swirled in his veins.

“How long can someone survive in one of those suspension chambers?” Nolan asked.

JT shrugged. “As long as the chamber is powered and the system is functional. It essentially stops time for that individual.”

“Does this ship have any weapons?”

“She’s got two old-fashioned plasma cannons, but no projectiles. Which makes them pretty much useless.“

Nolan eyes lit up at the mention of plasma cannons, then he quickly deflated.

JT could tell by Nolan’s determined gaze what he was thinking. “Even if we had ammunition and rockets it wouldn’t be enough to take on the dreadnought. The best thing we can do is make a hasty exit before they decide to do something about us.”

Nolan had other plans. “When you bend space, you can go anywhere, right?”

“Theoretically.”

“You don’t need a spaceship to do it, right?”

“Not technically. Of course, it’s easier if I want to take people with me. Materializing in the void of space without a ship could be detrimental to one’s health. Bending to the surface of a planet also poses equal risks. One could find themselves deep in solid rock.”

“Can you get me aboard that ship?” Nolan said, pointing at the dreadnought.

JT looked at him like he was crazy. “Shouldn’t you be trying to get away from that ship?”

“Can you do it, or not?”

JT thought about this for a moment. “It’s risky. We could end up straddling a bulkhead.” But JT was never one to back down from a challenge. “Yeah. I can do it.”

“I want you to get me aboard that ship, then bend back to the skiff and get Mia some help.”

JT hesitated a moment.

“Name your price. I’ll find a way to pay it.” Nolan dug into his pouch and handed JT the gold medallion.

JT’s eyes filled awe. “What the hell… Why not?”

“So, how does this work?”

“Take my hand. Hold on. It’s about to get freaky.”

Nolan wasn’t sure how things could get any freakier than they had already. He had died and been resurrected. It didn’t get much freakier than that.

44

Drifting through space and time without a body wasn’t entirely different than being dead. The sensations were similar. Nolan was no longer a separate entity from the rest of the cosmos. He felt as if he was one with everything. Part of a continuum.

Together with JT, he moved across the expanse of space and into the dreadnought, like some kind of phantom. JT seemed to have the ability to control their destination with precision. They glided through the corridors and passed through bulkheads, materializing in an empty storage compartment.

It was one thing to be aboard a ship that had been jumped across the galaxy, but it was quite another to do it on such a free-form level. It was almost like a religious experience. The feeling of being complete nothingness. Fully conscious and aware, yet free of corporeal restrictions. It was liberating. Nolan had a look of wonder on his face “How do you do that?”

JT shrugged. “Just born with the gift. Some people got it, some people don’t.”

Nolan wondered if the skill could be learned. He was beginning to believe that nothing was impossible. Every preconceived notion that he had about the Universe had been turned on its ear in recent days.

“Now what, big shot?”

“Get back to the skiff. Get Mia some help.”

“I know a sorcerer. If anyone can bring her back, he can.” JT dug in his pocket and pulled out the medallion. He handed it back to Nolan.

“I’d have to be some kind of asshole not to help in a situation like this. I mean, I know I’m an asshole, no doubt about it. But I’m not that kind of an asshole.”

Nolan smiled. “Keep it. You may need it to pay the sorcerer.”

JT agreed. “ But that’s all I’ll spend it on, and I’ll bring you back your change. If there is any.” He paused a moment. “You sure you’re gonna be okay here?”

“No. I’m not sure of anything. But it’s what I have to do.”

“Good luck.” JT shook his hand, then he closed his eyes and focused his energy and dematerialized.

Nolan tried to formulate a plan. He needed to find Valdovar and destroy the crystal necklace that he wore around his neck. Not an easy task. He was sure it contained the Emperor’s life force. If he could destroy the crystal, even the Sword of Destiny couldn’t protect him. But getting in close proximity to the Emperor was going to be a challenge.

Nolan pulled the visor of his helmet shut, and opened the hatch. He stepped into the corridor, scanning the area. The dreadnought’s engines rumbled with the monotonous drone, and there was the familiar bustle of activity in the passageways.

Still dressed in his imperial battle armor, Nolan weaved his way through the corridors, hoping to remain undetected. It was a little unusual for a Soturi to stomp around the dreadnought with a helmet on, and the visor down, but not unheard of.

He twisted through the passageways and as he rounded the corner he crossed paths with Tanc.

Rage boiled inside of Nolan. He stopped in his tracks and turned back to watch the nasty sergeant stroll down the corridor. Nolan wanted to draw his sword and run it through the bastard, but he thought better of the idea. That was a score to settle for another day.

Nolan kept moving forward, looking for Captain Avar. If he had an ally aboard the ship, it would be her.

He knocked on the hatch to her stateroom. As soon as it slid open, he forced himself into the compartment. She fought him off at first, until he raised his visor.

She flung her arms around him as she recognized his face. “I thought you were dead. What happened?”

“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you all about it later. Right now we’ve got to stop Valdovar.”

Kira hesitated. The idea seemed preposterous.

“Are you with me?”

She nodded. “But that’s impossible. He wields the Sword of Destiny.”

“It’s not impossible,” Nolan said. “His essence is contained within his amenkonti.”

Kira gave him a skeptical look. “Good luck finding that.”

“I have,” Nolan said. “The crystal around his neck.”

Kira’s eyes glimmered with recognition. It made sense. He always wore it, and seemed protective of it. But the glimmer of hope in her eyes quickly faded. “You’ll never get close to him.” She lost herself deep in thought. “Unless…” Her eyes lit up again with the spark of an idea.

“What is it?”

“I think I can get you in his chamber. Then it’s up to you.”

“How are you going to do that?”

45

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Nolan asked.

Kira shrugged. “I’m more worried about what happens after you get inside his chamber.”

“So am I.”

Nolan followed Kira down to the slave chambers.

“Each night, Valdovar takes his pick. You’ll deliver the girls to his chamber for his approval. You’ll have a moment to strike while he’s distracted.”

It wasn’t an ideal scenario, but at least it would get him inside the Emperor’s chamber.

Kira and Nolan snaked through the maze of corridors. Two guards stood outside the hatch to the slave compartment.

“We’re here to escort the evening’s companions to Lord Valdovar,” Kira said.

“They’ve already been taken up,” one of the guards said.

Kira’s face tensed. She tried to hide her displeasure. “How long ago?”

The guard pointed to the end of the hallway.

Kira’s eyes flicked down the passageway and saw a guard escorting two terrified girls down the hallway. They disappeared around the corner.

Kira and Nolan chased after them. Nolan’s heavy boots clinked against the deck, echoing off the bulkheads.

Kira called after the guard escorting the concubines. “Hold up, Sergeant!”

The sergeant craned his neck back to see what the commotion was about.

“We’ll take over from here,” Kira said as she reached the guard.

“Sir, I have specific orders to deliver these young ladies straight to Lord Valdovar’s chamber.”

“And I’m giving you a new order.”

The sergeant hesitated.

“I can assure you, they will reach their destination.” Kira’s fiery eyes blazed into the sergeant.

“Yes, sir,” the sergeant stammered. He relinquished the terrified girls into Kira’s command. He stood there for a moment, unsure of how to proceed next.

“That will be all, Sergeant.”

“Yes, sir.” He hesitated another moment, then marched away.

“I can’t go with you,” Kira said. “It will look suspicious. I’m going to rally supporters. Good luck.” She scurried away down the corridor.

Nolan grabbed the two girls by their arms and marched them down the hallway. He could feel their bodies tremble—their faces bathed in fear.

“What’s going to happen to us?”

“Nothing. You’ll be fine.” He tried to reassure them. “Stay calm, and do as I say.”

The girls weren’t sure what to make of Nolan, and he didn’t have time to explain the situation. But he didn’t seem like the other guards.

With his face obscured by his helmet visor, Nolan made his way to Valdovar’s chamber. The guards standing outside of his compartment didn’t even bat an eye or ask questions. This was part of the nightly routine. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

One of them tapped an earbud and opened a comm channel. “Lord Valdovar, your entertainment has arrived.”

Nolan could hear the Emperor’s voice crackle through the guard’s earbud. “Bring them in.”

Nolan’s heart spiked with adrenaline, pounding furiously. This was the moment of truth. He would only have a split second to make his move.

The guards stepped aside. One of them pressed a button on the bulkhead, opening the hatch.

Nolan escorted the terrified concubines into the Royal chamber.

Valdovar was dressed in a flowing black robe. The purple crystal dangled around his neck. He wore no battle armor, but the Sword of Destiny hung from a scabbard affixed to his belt.

Valdovar’s lecherous eyes surveyed the luscious nubile concubines. Nolan bided his time as Valdovar drew near, his rapt attention focused on the girls.

“These will do nicely.” His eyes glimmered with lust. He waved Nolan away. “That will be all.”

“Yes, my Lord,” Nolan said. He turned to leave, but instead gripped the hilt of his sword and with one fluid motion drew the blade and sliced across the Emperor’s neck.

The tip of the blade severed Valdovar’s carotid arteries, slicing through his trachea. Blood spurted from the wounds, splattering the two girls, who screeched in terror. They scampered away from the chaos.

Takaar, Valdovar’s tiny dragon, shrieked in horror. It flew from its perch and soared to attack Nolan.

Nolan’s sword had severed the chain that held the crystal pendant. Valdovar clutched his throat as he staggered back, but was unable to grasp the pendant. The crystal bounced against the deck several times, finally coming to rest at Nolan’s feet. With all the strength he could muster, he stomped the crystal, shattering it into thousands of microscopic shards.

Nolan lifted his visor, and his triumphant eyes flicked to the evil ruler.

Valdovar gasped for breath, clutching his throat. Blood oozed between his fingers and trickled down his chest, staining his dark robe.

Nolan waited with joyous anticipation for the Emperor to die.

But Valdovar remained on his feet. After a moment, he removed his hands from his throat, and though still stained with blood, there was no wound. Not so much as a scar was left behind.

Nolan’s face twisted up, perplexed. He was certain the crystal contained Valdovar’s soul. How could he have been so wrong?

Takaar dive bombed Nolan, spitting a stream of fire.

Nolan hacked at the small beast with his sword.

Valdovar seemed perturbed, and commanded the dragon to return to its perch. He didn’t like Nolan swatting at it. The Emperor drew the Sword of Destiny. “You are becoming more than a minor annoyance.”

This time Valdovar was going to finish Nolan for good.

46

Swords clashed as Nolan and Valdovar engaged one another. The clamor of the blades echoed throughout the large chamber.

Takaar screeched, cheering his master on.

A furious battle raged as the two wielded their swords with expert precision. Valdovar hacked and slashed, and Nolan defended each attack effortlessly. He felt faster and more adept than in the previous battle. But Valdovar’s skill was superior when combined with the power of the Sword of Destiny.

Valdovar drove Nolan back several paces, then with the thrust of his wrist he sent a magical force, knocking Nolan from his feet. He flew through the air, slammed against the deck, then crashed into the bulkhead.

Nolan was dazed for a moment. The wind was knocked out of him, and he felt lightheaded. As he staggered to his feet, Valdovar hurled a glowing ball of deadly energy at him.

Without even thinking, Nolan thrust his hand forward and created a spell shield that deflected the blow. It had been an instinctual movement. He had never had such command of magic before. A wave of realization washed over him—not only had Mia given him her life force, but her magic as well.

Now, combined with his own innate ability, Nolan was more powerful than he’d ever been before. Perhaps powerful enough to stand toe to toe with the Dark Lord?

“I see death has treated you well. You’ve grown stronger. But no worries, I will send you back to where you came from.”

Nolan charged, and the two clashed swords again. This time, Nolan had more confidence. Nolan swung his blade with all his might. The clamoring of swords was almost deafening. He drove the Dark Lord back several paces, then thrust Valdovar back with a magical force. It was the Dark Lord’s turn to hit the deck.

Valdovar scowled as he sprang back to his feet.

The dragon screeched and squealed and launched from its perch. Again, it dove for Nolan, spitting a stream of fire at him. Nolan blocked the molten breath with a spell shield.

Valdovar chastised the beast again for getting involved. It was clear he was protective of the dragon. “Takaar, stay!”

The dragon squawked, then returned to its perch, flapping its wings through the chamber.

Valdovar’s attention returned to Nolan. “Perhaps I misjudged you.”

His tone wasn’t threatening. He seemed pleasantly surprised. “I have undervalued your worth. I could use a warrior like you. You deserve to be leading my forces. Would you like to become the Commander of the Imperial Soturi?”

“I’d rather die.”

“And you certainly will if you continue to defy me. Think about the opportunity I am presenting you. You will live like a king. All of your worldly desires will be fulfilled. You will have immense power and will answer only to me. Tell me that doesn’t sound appealing?”

“You murdered my family. You destroyed my people. And you’ve done that to countless other civilizations!”

Valdovar shrugged. “You can choose to die now, or you can choose to live in glory.”

“There is no glory in your service.”

Valdovar sighed. “So be it.”

The Dark Lord charged Nolan and attacked with speed and ferocity beyond measure. The Dark Lord’s aggressive strikes staggered Nolan back as he summoned all of his efforts to deflect the blows. Soon, Nolan was pinned against the bulkhead.

With a flick of his wrist, Valdovar stripped Nolan’s sword from his hand. It flew through the air and clattered across the deck, coming to rest not far from the dragon.

The squawking little beast screeched with joy.

“This time you’ll feel the sting of my blade for all eternity. You will not come back to life.” Valdovar closed in for the kill.

Nolan summoned his strength and formed a ball of energy in his palm. It was the most powerful he’d ever managed to muster. He hurled it with all his might, but not at Valdovar—instead, he targeted the shrieking dragon, convinced the creature was the container of the Dark Lord’s soul.

If he was wrong, it would be the last thing he ever did.

The bolt streaked across the compartment and eviscerated the tiny monster. It was as if the creature had been enveloped in molten lava. The energy seared Takaar to a crisp, then exploded the scaly beast into hundreds of pieces.

Valdovar’s eyes widened with fear, then he disintegrated into a mist of energy and vanished. The Sword of Destiny clattered against the deck.

Nolan staggered to his feet and moved to the place where Valdovar had once stood. He picked up the sword and scanned the compartment looking for any traces of the Emperor, wary that he might re-materialize at any moment.

A platoon of Soturi stormed into the compartment, led by Commander Xule. His eyes scanned the chamber, looking for his master. Upon the realization that Valdovar was no more, Xule saw his opportunity. “Arrest this man. Take him to the chamber of pain until I decide his fate.”

The Soturi did nothing.

Xule’s face filled with rage. “What are you waiting for. I gave you a direct order. This man has killed the Emperor. I am assuming control.”

Nolan held the sword high in the air. “This is the Sword of Destiny. If you want to attempt to take it from me, be my guest. But I believe you all know its reputation.”

None of the Soturi made an aggressive move. There was certainly no love lost for the Emperor.

“I have killed Valdovar. I am assuming control of the Empire,” Nolan said with confidence. “Arrest Commander Xule. Take him to the chamber of pain until I decide what to do with him.”

The Soturi hesitated for an instant, then followed Nolan’s command.

Xule balked as they seized him. “This is treasonous!”

“Kneel before your new Emperor,” Captain Avar shouted with a sly grin.

The platoon of Soturi all took a knee.

Nolan had never imagined, nor wanted to be, Emperor. But perhaps this was an opportunity to right the wrongs that had been done. It didn’t take long for news of Valdovar’s demise to spread through the ship.

Nolan called for a formal assembly in the Great Hall. The Soturi all stood in formation as Nolan posed in front of the throne.

“From this point on, all slaves are freed,” Nolan decreed.

The chamber erupted with cheers.

Serving my military will be voluntary. This ship will no longer be used as a tool for death and destruction, but instead to defend the liberty of all humanity.”

There were more cheers.

That night, the crew celebrated with a feast.

Nolan knew fierce opposition would rise from within the ranks of the Empire. Someone would soon challenge him for the throne. And there was no doubt that he hadn’t seen the last of Lord Valdovar.

Thank You!

I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please consider reviewing the series on Amazon—a simple “Loved it,” or, “Hated it,” would be appreciated.

—Tripp

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I’m just a geek who loves sci-fi and horror. I was abducted by aliens and forced to travel the galaxy as the official biographer of an evil galactic ruler. This is where I learned to hone my craft. Fortunately, I escaped and made my way back to Earth, and now I write about my adventures. I hope you enjoy!

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