Shadow Operations Type Sh...

The morning dew settled against the vines growing on the stone railing. I leaned against it, breathing in the scent of a fresh, new day as the sun rose over the horizon. I heard footsteps behind me, and assumed that it was my wife.
“I missed this, you know.”
“My country?” responded a male voice. “Yes, it is beautiful, is it not?”
I quickly turned around. “Lev? I was not told you were coming, I would have-“
“It matters not. In fact, I wish discretion from you and your kin. As much as possible. I know you have not been back on Sanghelios for long, but I require your assistance.”
“Oh? With what?” I pushed myself off of the railing.
“First, get out of that robe and get into your armor. I shall wait for you in the main hall. Oh, and take up arms.”
“Arms? Is there some sort of attack?”
“Not exactly. Please, just get your gear and come with me quickly.”
“Yes, yes, of course.”
Lev walked away, donning battered grey armor and a magnificent flowing grey cape. He stood in the main hall, standing beside a fire one of the servants was stoking for him. I returned to my bedchambers, quickly donning my skinsuit and then my cuirass. My wife, Idara, stirred from the bed, and sat up.
“Kai? Is something the matter?”
“Kaidon ‘Mannimar is requesting me for something,” I answered. “I must go.”
“Oh my stars, what is it?”
“I do not know, but I will return later. I promise.”
“My love, it has been so many moons since we lay together. Your son sees you more as a stranger than as a father. And the morning after you return, you depart once more? You test my heart once more?”
“Idara, I promise you. We shall see each other later today.” I caressed her face tenderly, then left the bedchambers, latching my carbine onto my back.
“Worry not, boy, I shall not keep your father for long,” said Lev as I stepped back into the main hall of the keep. I noticed my son, Jai, standing near him by the hearth.
“I am ready,” I said. “Son, I must go. I shall not be long.”
“Yes, Father,” he said in a somewhat lethargic voice. And so, Lev and I left our keep, and we moved to one of the landing pads of the compound the keep itself was located in. A Phantom awaited us, no doubt the same Phantom Lev used to come here, and as I boarded it I was greeted by my old lance, with Mik, Basab, and Tes, along with a few other unfamiliar faces.
“Hey, brother!” excitedly said Mik as he grasped me in helping me into the Phantom. “How’ve you been?”
“Well, brother, well, and yourself?”
“Ah, thrilled to be back home, although the neighborhood doesn’t seem to be safe these days anymore, hah!”
“How is your family, Mik? Are they safe?”
“They’re fine, they’re fine.” He seemed to respond very quickly, as if he did not wish to dwell on the thought.
“Do you know where we are going?”
“Not a clue. But we’ll definitely get into a scrap!”
The Phantom departed my keep, located in the state of Mannim, a land of forests, valleys, rivers, and hills, and we raced across Sanghelios, to the state of Moram, a journey of several hours. We landed in the verdant valley, on a dedicated landing pad, and disembarked.
“All of you, with me. Maintain unit cohesion.”
We followed Lev, my lance and several others, through the mid-morning mists of the paved walkways and corridors of this ancient citadel, perhaps centuries old, our footsteps echoing on the stone surfaces. The fortifications seemed sturdily built, both beautiful in design and useful in form, and it seems that no expense was spared in its construction. As we moved further into the compound, I noticed several guards of Moram were disarmed, sometimes after some verbal disagreement, and replaced with different guards. I looked at them more closely, and noticed on their helmets was the insignia of the House of Vadam.
“What’s going on?” asked Mik.
“Just some political nonsense, you know,” briskly replied Lev.
“Then, what are we here for?” I inquired.
“You are part of my retinue. Just do as I say and everything should be fine.”
“Understood, my lord,” I said. Mik looked at me, and I returned a glance, and his eyes were filled with questions. I gave a very slight shrug, indicating my preference to let the matter lie and follow orders without question. Mik returned to looking forward, seemingly dissatisfied with my apparent passivity with pressing the matter.
Finally, after some time of following Lev, we entered a great open hall. The throne room. Sitting atop the throne was the kaidon of Moram, Varo ‘Moram, who ascended to the position after his father, the previous Arbiter, was killed in battle. In this room, other kaidons of other states rushed forward, out of the shadows and from the side entrances of the room. I saw the kaidons of Vadam, Vadum, Hilot, and Chaura, along with several lances’ worth of their own men. We formed a semicircle behind some figure standing before Varo. I then recognized him as Dorso ‘Moram, Varo’s younger brother.
“As I had most feared, you have inherited the madness of our father,” said Dorso. “His unreasonable, unquenchable thirst for blood. His passion for violence and cruelty. And his penchant for tyranny and injustice.”
“And you have adopted his scheming, his plotting, his intrigue,” spat out Varo. “No doubt you have conspired with the other kaidons before me here to usurp my position. But alas, you have not inherited Father’s… critical thinking. Do you really think the elders of the clan will just let you, the younger brother, ascend to the throne and say nothing?”
“Actually, they indeed have said much about the matter.” Dorso then, from a holder on his belt, took out a datapad and threw it to one of Varo’s guards. The guard caught it and quickly analyzed it. Then, he handed it to Varo himself. The kaidon began reading the information therein. “As you can see,” continued Dorso, “they have all agreed that it is I who is most suited to become kaidon. It seems that they too recognize in you too much of Father. Far too much. And none of the good, you see.”
Varo scowled upon reading the datapad. He growled as he threw it contemptibly at the hard stone floor, the plastic and steel clattering against the rock. He then shot up onto his feet, his cape lazily hanging off of his shoulder pauldrons. Varo’s two guards closed ranks before their master. “There are men who are still loyal to me,” said the kaidon. “And I am not a kaidon without reason, and one does not remain kaidon by being idle. You will understand this. Awaken your sword!”
“Open fire!” cried out the kaidon of Vadam, the current Arbiter. One of Varo’s guards unleashed an energy sword and charged forth, while the other took out dual-wielded plasma rifles and started firing liberally into the assemblage of warriors in the hall. I returned fire on the plasma rifle guard, quickly depleting his shields and striking him several times in the upper chest. Meanwhile, the guard with the sword was quickly dispatched by the kaidon of Vadum in melee combat.
Thus, there remained but one melee: that between the Moram brothers, the elder Varo and the younger Dorso. Their energy swords clashed as Dorso slashed Varo’s cape to shreds, and Varo replied by inflicting a significant facial cut on Dorso. It would have been quite reasonable for any number of us, or perhaps all of us, to join Dorso in defeating Varo, but perhaps we shared the same reason of sportsmanship and refrained from interfering in the duel. Parry after parry, block after block, and dodge after dodge began to take a toll on the elder Varo, who was not as well-conditioned as the younger, slimmer, nimbler, more athletic Dorso. Eventually, Dorso managed to slice open Varo’s left side, after dodging a thrusting attack and responding with a rapid slash. He then followed up the attack with a stab straight into the back, severing Varo’s spine.
Varo collapsed onto the floor, his sword fallen from his grip. It was clear to all he could no longer manipulate his body below his waist. The kaidon seemed to be in a mixture of great pain, anguish, and anger. Dorso, with eyes that carried no warmth or feeling, looked down upon the half-squirming, half-dead Varo. To my surprise, the wounded kaidon began to laugh. “You should see the look on your face, brother! The look of your eyes! Those dead, soulless, eyes. The eyes… of Father! Hah! Much of the Father is found in the Son, yes?” Dorso quickly stabbed Varo once in the heart, killing him instantly. And thus I bore witness to fratricide, a crime that, admittedly, I myself was perilously close to committing once or twice in my life.
Then, the Arbiter stepped up to the platform the throne was located on. “Every man here is sworn to secrecy! Not a word of what conspired here shall be spoken! Is that understood?!”
“Yes, sir!” we all said in unison.
“This is some shadow operations type shit,” uttered Basab.
“Yeah, and you best keep your mouth shut about it,” joked Tes. “’Cause if word gets out, we’ll know it was you.”
“Oh really, woman? Think that a few coins won’t open that mercenary beak of yours?”
“Surprisingly, it’ll take more than just a fat purse.”
“Solid! We are in accord, then.”
“Politics, eh?” I asked to Lev. As our group departed, he looked back at me and smirked coyly.
“Oh, indeed,” he replied.
Category:The Weekly