Alliance of Serpents

by

Kevin Domenic

*******

PUBLISHED BY:

Kevin Domenic on Smashwords

The Fourth Dimension: Alliance of
Serpents

Copyright © 2010 by Kevin Domenic

Cover Art: Philip Kurniawan

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*******

Kindel wiped his fingerprints away with a
soft cloth, leaving the golden amulet to shine with renewed beauty
and luster. The three jewels embedded in each corner sparkled
against the light of his eyes, though the absence of the
lephadorite itself left a wide vacant notch in the center.
If
anything happens to that stone, I'll have each and every one of
their heads severed with a dull blade.
Releasing it to their
possession had been quite a chore; it was not easy to let go of the
thing. But what was done was done, and all he could do was wait for
results. Scientists were never known for their speed, but Kindel
had ordered that the lephadorite project take precedence over any
and all other experiments and research that may have been
underway.

He dropped the cloth on his desk and examined
the amulet again, searching for any cracks or imperfections in the
colored jewels. Any change in weight or molecular composure could
affect the lephadorite's reaction. Everything had to be just so. It
was a test of perfection for Kindel—luckily for him, he'd always
been a perfectionist—and he did not want to imagine the
consequences he'd face for abusing the power within that little
rock.
If Barrine isn't careful with that thing, he may wind up
killing us all.
What kind of experiments were they performing?
Did they take him seriously when he told them the lephadorite was
unstable and unpredictable?

The visitor alert toned from the door. "You
may enter," he said, his eyes remaining fixed on the amulet.

The door slid open to admit Scimitar and
Kalibur with their prisoner in tow. How they'd managed to nab this
one was beyond Kindel, though the bloodstains on the man's vest
likely had something to do with it. He was unshackled—Kalibur's
report had stated he'd come willingly—but a crude bandage was taped
around his shoulder, and he walked with the sort of lethargic
exhaustion Thorus would expect from a man who'd just come from
battle. Still, despite the glaze over his eyes and the slump of his
shoulders, Sartan Truce wore an arrogant grin over his golden
beard. Scimitar and Kalibur moved to Kindel's side of the desk,
leaving him standing just inside the doorway. Thorus never took his
eyes from the amulet.

Several moments passed before Truce spoke.
"Aren't you even going to welcome me?"

"I have little time for nonsense, Sartan."
Kindel made his voice as casual as he could. While it was true that
he wanted to know what the Kyrosen had been up to that had drawn
Aldoric's attention away from the Armada, it was never a good idea
to give a prisoner any idea of the importance of his knowledge. A
man as crafty as Sartan Truce would use any leverage he could
manage to find to his advantage.

"Oh, you'll find time, I assure you." Truce
suddenly stood up straight. The man was full of pride, just like
his father.

"The last time I found time for you, I drove
the Kyrosen to near extinction," Kindel responded, running his
finger along the amulet's golden chain. "At least, that's what I
remember."

Truce shrugged—he shrugged!—at the
suggestion. "You didn't do us any favors, if that's what you're
getting at."

"Regardless of who did what or how it was
done, we find ourselves face to face today," Kindel tried not to
grit his teeth. Showing anger would not prompt the man to reveal
anything. "What is it that is so important for you to demand an
audience with me tonight?"

Truce casually walked over to the various
artifacts displayed on the cabinets along the wall. It was clear in
his eyes that he was trying not to show the pain his body was in,
but he wasn't fooling anyone, Kindel least of all. "Aratus Truce no
longer leads the Kyrosen. I do."

"Yes, I'm aware of that," Kindel said,
lifting the cloth to polish the back of the amulet.

Sartan paused a moment before continuing. "I
assumed as much. At any rate, as you may or may not know, my father
and I never saw eye to eye on the direction of the Kyrosen. We are,
by nature, rogues; we wander the galaxy in search of a place to
call home. When our battles with your Armada drove us near the
brink of annihilation—I'm not ashamed to admit that's what you
did—my father chose the technologically inept planet of Terranias
as our new home. He thought that we could rebuild there and start
fresh. None of us really felt—"

"Is there a point to this history lesson?"
Kindel cut in, still avoiding eye contact.

Sartan picked up a small wooden statue of a
man kneeling with a pike in his hands. It was an artifact Kindel
had picked up on Merioun several years back. "My father was a fool,
and I'll be the first to say it." Truce said, almost laughing as he
did. "His barbarian ego got us into the mess we're in, but now that
I am in control, I have employed a bit more intelligent and, dare I
say, crafty approach."

"Good for you," Thorus made the remark sound
condescending. He stood and moved toward the viewport, carrying the
amulet with him. "What does that have to do with me?"

"Nice stuff you've got here." Kindel eyed him
through the reflection in the glass. Truce's hand moved toward the
long artifact that Thorus kept covered with a cloth. "What's under
the rag—"

Snarling, Kindel whirled with an extended
hand, and burst of wind threw Truce's body into the wall beside the
door. The Mage's eyes bulged for a minute—the impact could not have
felt good with his body in the shape it was in—before the arrogant
smile returned. Kindel took one firm step forward. "Either tell me
why you are here, or I'll instruct my assistants to make sure you
eat every meal for the rest of your life through your—"

"I need your help," Truce said simply. He
left a few moments of silence for the words to sink in, and when
Kindel released the hold that kept him plastered to the wall,
Sartan walked to the desk and slammed his hands down. "I have
something you want, and you have something I want. I propose an
exchange, one that will easily profit you more in the end."

Kindel stopped short, struggling to keep his
face smooth. Had he let his emotions show, his jaw would have been
on the floor. How could Truce have possibly learned about the
lephadorite? What in the world could he possibly offer that would
be
more
profitable? The man had certainly grabbed his
attention. Still, Kindel fought to keep himself composed. No
leverage. "What . . . do you want?"

The answer was not what he'd expected, not
even close. "Ships."

"Ships?"

Truce nodded. "That's right, ships. You have
an entire army of ships at your disposal. I am trying to get the
Kyrosen off of Terranias and back into space where we belong."

Kindel nearly exploded into laughter right in
Sartan's face. "The Kyrosen were a thorn in my side for a good
portion of two decades, and now you want me to
help
you get
them back on their feet?"

"I am prepared to make concessions," Sartan
said, standing upright. "Even though we'll be using them, they will
still be
your
ships. You will retain ownership, and will
even be able to track us if you wish. You'll know where we are and
where we are headed at all times. And you can give us the ships
with the weakest plating, if you wish, so that we can be easily
destroyed if you feel we've betrayed you."

Kindel couldn't believe what he was hearing.
There had to be a catch; only a great fool would take his enemy's
word at face value. "Are you trying to tell me that the Kyrosen
wish to join with the Vezulian Armada?"

Now Sartan openly laughed. "No, don't be
absurd. We simply want to make a trade."

"And what is it that you want to trade?"

The next words out of Truce's mouth nearly
made Kindel roll his eyes. "The perfect warrior."

Thorus wasted no time in shaking his head.
"Absolutely not. Out of the question." He returned his gaze to the
viewport, eyes shifting toward the tiny spec of a ship floating
near the far side of the planet. The
Refuge
.

"Wait a minute. Think about it. The Armada is
on an endless quest to strengthen itself, correct? You seek ways to
grow in power so that you can defeat any enemy that steps in your
way, right? Well this, Thorus, would transform each and every one
of your men's children into the ultimate fighting machines."

"I'm not interested in—" He glanced back in
disgust. "Did you say
children?"

"I realize it doesn't sound like there is
much potential, but after seeing the thing work with my own eyes, I
am truly convinced that this weapon will change the face of battle
as we know it, and whoever possesses it will be the most feared and
respected entity across the universe."

Kindel pursed his lips in a wry smile before
returning his attention to the
Refuge.
"Then why would you
want to hand such an item over to me? Why not use it on me and be
rid of me?"

"As I said before," Truce began, his boots
clopping across the floor as he moved to Thorus' side, "I am not
interested in power. I am simply trying to pull my people back from
the edge of extinction, and I'll do whatever it takes to give them
the chance to rebuild."

"And how do I know you won't turn on me once
you
have
rebuilt?"

"It will be years before that happens."
Sartan's voice sounded almost sad. "But if it will make you feel
better, I'll sign whatever treaties or agreements you wish to
prevent the Kyrosen from waging war on the Armada."

It was a tempting deal, Kindel admitted to
himself. But he was not foolish enough to trust the Kyrosen any
more than he trusted the Aeden Alliance. "Have you brought this
weapon with you to prove your claims?"

Sartan opened his mouth . . . and closed it
again. He raised a finger and directed Kindel's eyes to the
Refuge
. "It was stolen. They have it."

The idea of Aldoric possessing such a weapon
sent a chill down Kindel's spine. Still, it could all be some sort
of trap laid by Truce and Aldoric to draw Kindel into a winless
battle. There were interesting possibilities on both sides of the
argument, but Kindel refused to allow himself to trust Sartan
Truce. "I assume that means you want my help to recover it. How am
I to know I won't find a trap waiting for me over there? I know the
planet has held Aldoric's attention for quite some time, and I'm
not entirely convinced that you and he haven't been plotting
against me."

"If I may, Master?" Scimitar's raspy voice
broke in. "We tracked Aldoric to the fortress of one of the
kingdoms of this planet. It was there that he battled the Kyrosen,
and it was there that Truce sustained the injuries he has. I can
confirm that the two are not allied."

"Did either of you witness this weapon he
speaks of?"

The two ninjas shook their heads. "Once we
found Aldoric, we tracked him closely. But when they entered the
fortress, we remained hidden outside. You instructed us not to
engage in battle, and we followed those orders."