Alliance of Serpents (29 page)

"That's debatable," Damien responded,
clearing his throat. "At any rate, I couldn't allow Kindel to
continue on the dark path he'd chosen. He would kill our own people
just to prevent the Ma'tuul from getting to them. He—"

"I struck quickly and vanished so that when
the Ma'tuul arrived, they would find nothing but corpses. The
theory was that it would make them think that they'd killed us all
and leave Zo'rhan," Kindel cut in. "Though the plan didn't work in
the end, it had to be tried."

"It was heartless and ruthless," Damien
growled back, "and it had to be stopped." Looking back at Arus, he
spread his hands in resignation. "So I took matters into my own
hands. Our people have a tradition known as the Je'tai, which
translates roughly to ‘Blood Duel.' In a blood duel, two Zo'rhan
fight hand to hand to the death. I made the challenge in haste as
Kindel was preparing to leave the planet in search of advanced
weaponry and technology that he could use against the Ma'tuul. I
didn't want to kill him, and through the whole battle I kept trying
to persuade him to reconsider his intentions. In the end, I was
victorious, but I couldn't bring myself to kill my own brother.
After how vocal I'd been about my feelings regarding his methods,
it would've been hypocritical of me to murder him."

Kindel snorted with crossed arms. "Instead,
you brought shame to both the Thorus family name and the honor of
the Je'tai itself!"

Damien's eyes narrowed. "For someone who
values strength over everything, I find it odd to hear concern from
you regarding honor."

Kindel took a dangerous step toward him.
"True honor comes in making the necessary sacrifices to ensure that
the greater good prevails. That is why you hide behind that alias
of yours. That is why you deny your true heritage. Because you
think you can run from the burden of shame you must now carry for
the rest of your life."

"I do not deny my shame," he replied, shaking
his head. "And I see it every time I look in the mirror in the
morning. But the reason I refuse to carry the Thorus name is the
association it brings. I will not allow myself to be connected to
you in any way, regardless of what dishonor it brings to me."

"Then, the Zo'rhan race agrees with Kindel?"
Arus asked. "Do they also value power over honor?"

"No, not at all. I tainted the Thorus name by
refusing to complete the Je'tai, not because I disagree with
Kindel. Though there are some who follow him, the Zo'rhan race, for
the most part, acknowledges his actions as unnecessarily violent
and not in the true spirit of our people."

"They will see things differently once I have
exterminated threats like the Aeden Alliance, the Kyrosen, and any
other factions that seek to disturb the peace. I will not stand by
and let—"

"You have said yourself that the Aeden
Alliance is weak," Damien interrupted, stepping to meet Kindel's
angry stare. "If we are so weak than why do you view us as a
threat?"

"In the wrong hands, weakness can be just as
dangerous as strength."

"He's right, Arus," Vultrel said, stepping
around sensor terminals. "The Aeden Alliance cannot offer you
proper protection. There are a number of groups out there who could
easily overpower the
Refuge
and force you to follow their
orders. Kindel won't allow that to happen to you."

But Arus could only shake his head in
disdain. "I can't believe what you've become," he said, his voice
nearly a whisper. "You were my brother, Vultrel. I used to think I
could count on you for anything. But now, I don't even know you.
Master Eaisan would be disgusted with what you've done."

Anger flashed in Vultrel's eyes, mixed with
something that almost looked like hatred. "Our fathers were blinded
by humanity's isolation from the rest of the universe. They knew
nothing of what went on amongst the stars, and thus their ideals of
honor and nobility worked for them. But things are more different
out here than they could've possibly known. It takes more than a
simple moral vision of right and wrong. It takes a willingness to
do whatever is necessary to win. You have to have the
will
to win, Arus, and I'll do
whatever
 it takes to see that
what happened to my father never happens to anyone else again!"

It was like speaking to a complete stranger.
How Vultrel could've ever allowed himself to submit to such
ideology was baffling, but regardless of how hard it was to
believe, there he was, standing against Arus alongside the very man
who sought to control him. He and Arus had faced off in battle many
times before, but it had always been in a friendly competition of
skill. Now, however, Vultrel was ready to stand beside the enemy in
a fight to the death.
So be it, Vultrel. If this is the path
you've chosen, so be it. But I cannot follow you.

With a split-second motion that would've been
missed by a blinking eye, Arus yanked his small hunting knife from
its holster at his waist and sent it sailing toward the white-clad
man that held Kitreena. Her captor was forced to take a hand away
from her shoulder in order to catch the blade, but that gave
Kitreena all she needed. She violently yanked an arm free and
thrust her palm up into the face of the black-masked man, stunning
him long enough to pull her other arm loose. Snatching her whip
from the floor beside her, she leapt over the communications array
and dashed to Arus' side. "Thank you," she said quickly, snapping
her whip against the floor angrily. Damien joined them near the
lift while Vultrel and the two masked fighters surrounded
Kindel.

"You're not going anywhere," Thorus said with
a laugh. A shimmering light outlined his body as he clasped his
hands together against his chest.

Damien's eyes widened as he stepped in front
of Arus. "No!" A blazing ball of fire burst from his palm and
crashed into Kindel, knocking him back several paces. The flames
incinerated his shirt and scorched the flesh underneath, but the
pain never reached his eyes. "We have to attack! He's going to try
to teleport Arus back to the
Black Eagle
! We can't allow him
to complete the teleportation technique!"

"You're outnumbered," Kindel gloated,
clasping his hands together again. "The deed will be done before
you even manage to lay a finger on me."

A blip on Arus' sensors indicated a life sign
rising through the lift shaft. A quick scan brought a smile to his
lips. If his suspicions were correct . . . "Don't be so sure!" he
said confidently. "The odds are about to even themselves out."

Before any of them could question him, the
lift doors began to slide apart. A large man carrying an enormous
sword ducked through the doorway, clad in blue pants and a matching
vest. His muscular physique heaved as he hoisted the weapon over
his shoulder, flicking long strands of blond hair from his face as
he did. An emblem depicting a wild boar was fixed to his vest.
"Kindel Thorus, I presume?" Muert growled, his voice like a rolling
thunder. "I have business with you."

The sudden fear that Muert may not have come
to help struck Arus like an arrow through the chest. His loyalty to
his family had been made clear, and there had been no effort to
hide his feelings about Kindel. Still, if Muert could somehow iron
out a deal with the Armada to ensure the safety of his family . .
.

"Either you return my family to me, or you
will die here and now."

The smile returned to Arus' face in a flash.
Whether or not Muert had decided to ally himself with the Alliance
was irrelevant now. At least they had a common enemy. The rest
could be sorted out once Kindel was dealt with.

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking
about," Kindel said, eyeing Muert sideways. "I don't believe we've
met bef—"

"You have the remains of the Kyrosen race in
your custody, yes?" Muert cut him off, ominously shifting the
enormous sword on his shoulder.

The Vezulian Admiral looked as though he was
about to laugh. "A Kyrosen? I've long suspected that the Alliance
was in league with your kind! Now I have all the confirmation I
need! Not only will your family not be returned to you, but all the
Kyrosen be exterminated when I return to my ship!"

Muert set his jaw, and a brilliant sphere of
electricity surrounded his body. "You fool!" he shouted, his voice
resonating throughout the bridge. "Your selfish ambitions will be
the end of you!" He dashed forward with the agility of a cat,
speeding between Arus and Damien with his sword held high. The
electrical streaks slithering around his body drew toward the
blade, crackling and popping with each arc of light. Vultrel
stepped in front of Kindel with his own sword drawn, and the two
weapons clashed with a furious thunder that sent violent
reverberations through the floor.

"You take Scimitar, and I'll take Kalibur,"
Kitreena whispered into Arus' ear.

"Right . . . Wait, which one is which?"

"Scimitar is wearing black," she told him,
lunging toward the fighter in white. With careful snaps of her
whip, she lured him to the right as Muert and Vultrel's battle
shifted to the left. That left the man in black, apparently known
as Scimitar, to guard Kindel alone. For whatever reason, Thorus did
nothing. He simply stood back and watched, his eyes seeming to
weigh and consider each fighter.
Why doesn't he send us to his
ship if he has that power?
It would've made sense, but Kindel
instead watched quietly.

"Arus," Damien whispered in his ear, "you've
got to get Scimitar away from Kindel so that I can attack."

With an acknowledging nod, Arus readied his
sword and stepped toward the dark-clad fighter. Scimitar wielded
two finely polished blades of his namesake, twisting them in a
whirling flourish around his body as he prepared to meet his
challenger. "I have stood against some of the most feared men in
the universe, boy," he said in a raspy voice. "None have been able
to best me, and I doubt that a human child will be able to achieve
what they could not."

"Perhaps not," Arus admitted as his sensors
displayed a diagnostic of Scimitar's strengths and weaknesses. He
was nimble and quick, with strong legs and endless endurance, but
whatever advantages he possessed in speed were lost in strength.
Not a weak fighter by any stretch of the imagination, but his
agility outclassed his power by far. "Then again, I'm told that
there are no other fighters out there quite like myself. So prepare
yourself, because you're about to be pushed like you've never been
pushed before!"

Scimitar crossed his two weapons as Arus
attacked, bringing his blade down hard on the intersection. The
instant he did, Damien rushed past them and began his own assault
on Kindel. Scimitar shot a quick glance at his master as he pushed
the weapon away, but Arus gave no time for recovery, spinning and
winding the sword around in a fluid sequence of attacks. Every
strike was deflected with ease, bringing soft chuckles from
Scimitar with every blow met and each thrust returned. Arus
casually inched back as the fight raged, drawing Scimitar away from
Kindel so that Damien had more room to maneuver. His sensors
analyzed his opponent's movements and anticipated each attack with
ninety-eight percent accuracy, but Scimitar's arms darted about
with the speed and fluidity of a viper, swords coming within inches
of flesh before being knocked away. If Arus' mechanical arm had
possessed the ability to sweat, it would've been dripping. As it
was, he could feel beads of perspiration soaking his forehead and
causing his shirt to cling to his back. It took only a blink of his
eye at an inopportune moment to gain a bloody gash on his knee, and
the subsequent wince of pain rewarded him with another on his left
side.
Even with the implant fully activated he's managing to
remain one step ahead of me!

When an awkward twist forced Scimitar to spin
his body in a full circle, Arus brought his sword down with all of
his might, not really caring where it landed so long as it
connected with Scimitar's flesh. It did, slicing through the sleeve
of his right arm and drawing a thick stream of crimson. He grunted
angrily, dropping his sword and clutching the open wound. His black
glove darkened further as it absorbed the blood, but seconds later
he was back on the attack, pounding away at Arus' weapon with
recharged fury. He showed no signs of slowing down—his endurance
was indeed impressive—but Arus forced himself to remain optimistic.
I hope you're watching, Vultrel. Scimitar's defeat will only be
the beginning of the downfall of the Vezulian Armada.

*******

The two stones clacked together in Kindel's
pouch as he shuffled backward, preparing to repel the large
Kyrosen's attack. To his surprise, Vultrel stepped between them,
his stony gaze meeting his attacker's without so much as a twitch.
Their swords met with a loud pop of electricity, and the boy
immediately began to draw the Kyrosen into a duel to Kindel's
right. Their fight had barely begun when Kitreena attacked, pulling
Kalibur into a battle on his left side. That left only Scimitar to
protect Kindel from Aldoric's onslaught.
I should've teleported
the boy back to the ship when I had the chance,
Kindel thought,
cursing himself silently.
There's no way I can risk it now, not
with two fights in progress so close to me. If any of them were to
bump into me while performing the technique . . .
He shuddered
at the thought. Teleportation was risky in the first place. If
someone where to be shoved into him during the process, the two
could reappear as one mangled and mutated being somewhere. The
threat of such a disaster was too great during a skirmish, but if
he could bring a momentary halt to the fighting, it may be
possible.

The boy called Arus was certainly an awkward
sight to behold. The implant wasn't nearly as large or bulky as
Truce's schematics had made it out to be, though Sartan had warned
that the Alliance would probably try to modify it. Still, seeing
child and machine coexisting in the same body was startling, to say
the least. He seemed to move and act naturally—something Kindel had
wondered about—and his words were clear and intelligent. There had
been no indication of the alleged advantages Arus supposedly held
over others in combat, but judging from the way the boy was staring
down Scimitar, they were about to get a glimpse of what the device
could really do.