Winston Chronicles; Qob Tranquility Universe: Vassal

[Byblos 0]

2418

Vassal

 

Cycles of Death Headquarters, Warehouse ward, Unspeakable District

 

 

The sound of a loud hovercycle was quite normal around the barracks of the Cycles of Death. Many riders loved to show off, or generate large plasma discharge sounds from their hovercycle’s customized exhaust system. What the two Nausicaan guards heard was in their minds quite pleasant; while humans who ironically created the same effect centuries ago with combustion engines were appalled by the loud roaring noise.

 

The sound of transparent aluminum glass being shattered however was not something the two guards in charge of the treasonous Byblos found acceptable. With weapons drawn, they immediately unlocked and opened the door. Instinctively they looked at the shattered window next to their prisoner who still laid face down on the floor not moving. Then they saw the stone.

 

A bright orange stone, which was about the size of a human baseball. Whoever did this was going to pay for this disturbance especially given who was knocked out on the floor earlier by a nearly point blank disruptor shot. Interestingly enough there was a note attached to the bright orange stone. One of the guards picked the brightly colored stone up for inspection..in crude Nausicaan writing it said...”LOOK BEHIND YOU.”

 

“Check our six!” The guard with the stone said quickly, spinning around to the open door. His comrade turned around as well. Nothing or no one was seen at the doorway.

 

Suddenly, a voice yelled from behind them “Surprise Pe`TaQs!!” along with two very powerful disruptor bolt shots, then a roar of the hovercycle the two guards had found amusing.

 

The bolts that hit the guards were not of the type that hit the prisoner a few hours earlier. These bolts created a luminous effect upon them and subsequently vaporized the two guards.

 

Byblos stirred upon seeing the light; he instinctively reached for the pain felt in his back. Next he saw a weapon drop from the window; his own motorbike disruptor rifle. Finally he saw Vargros tumble over the window and into the small prison room, in a hurry to close the door.

 

“Time to go you big oaf! Get up Byblos! Get up now or we are both dead. Your bike is ready outside running fine.... C’mon!”

 

“Vargros?” Byblos managed to barely speak as he tried to get up and was not having much luck. “Are you insane? Get out of here now before you are discovered.”

 

“It’s too late for that now old friend. Jyke me, that’s worse than I thought it would be.” Vargros said while checking Byblos’s wound. The smaller Nausicaan retrieved a hypospray from his belt and pressed it on the wound. “C’mon that should help now let’s move!”

 

Byblos drunkenly walked towards the window, not from the medication but the enduring pain in his back. It took a shove and a lift from Vargros to help get Byblos out the window and to the dirt next to something he was very familiar with. “My Ride?! Vargros, you rode my bike! You twit!” It was as if suddenly the pain was cancelled by anger.

 

Vargros exited the barracks via the window as well, with the large weapon in hand. “Yes I did. Now are you going kill me like you foolishly tried to do to Death? Oh, you forgot! I have the gun! Now get on the bike; I’ll ride shotgun!”

 

Byblos mounted the bike and noticed something right away. “Vargros, I can’t feel my lower back; I cannot steer with my body weight along with the handles. You have to ride front and steer. Besides, you do have a plan?”

 

The sounds of targs barking and voices approaching made the smaller Nausicaan take the driving position. “Okay I’m on! Hold tight.” Suddenly Vargros could not breathe. “Not that tight!!”

 

Byblos turned, spotted a rapidly approaching targ, grabbed the large disruptor from Vargros and fired. The targ ceased to exist with one shot. “Okay I can shoot. But get us jykin’ out of here! Wherever your crazy mind has planned!”

 

Vargros had to stretch to grasp the throttle to max. The two fugitives found themselves immediately zooming down the barrack’s alley at high speed. “Dead end ahead!”

 

“I know! When I give the word, press the green button on the throttle grip!” Byblos shouted. The driver nodded in response as a permacite wall suddenly got closer. “Now!!!”

 

Vargros was stunned at what happened next. A rocket of some sort shot straight from the left side of the cycle, hitting the approaching wall. A large explosion took place creating a navigable breach and a large cloud of smoke.

 

An hour later; Death’s lair.

 

WELL DONE D. YOUR TEAM EVEN MANAGED TO TAKE OUT A FEW KLINGONS. THE MARSHALL WILL HAVE TO EXPLAIN THIS TO HER SUPERIORS AND AN AMBASSADOR AS WELL.

 

Death looked at his computer screen. Monsoon, his supplier for this enormous mission, was extremely satisfied. But Death could not savor the victory that had cost him his entire attack team. Worse, the treasonous actions of Byblos who actually planned the raid.

 

I UNDERSTAND THE CASUALTIES YOUR ORGANIZATION HAS TAKEN HAVE BEEN HEAVY. BE ASSURED THEIR DEATHS HAVE SERVED A HIGHER CAUSE.

 

Death had to type an update to his supplier regarding the casualties. “I have lost more than six Cycles; I have been betrayed by the very one who organized the attack and by my slicer as well.” Death paused in typing, he had to be careful not to inflame Monsoon. “The loss of the first can be replaced. However, the latter is something you should be aware off. He is quite skilled.”

 

THIS WAS BECAUSE OF THE KLINGONS CORRECT, AND A TRADITION YOUR PEOPLE BELIEVE IN. YOUR ‘AXIOM’.

 

Monsoon never ceased to amaze Death. He knew of the Axiom? Nonetheless, Death typed in a clarification. “It is a rule when applied to hand to hand combat, not this operation. Byblos thought otherwise and was forcibly removed from the command center during the attack. Vargros, my slicer remained loyal until a few hours after the attack. Both are now traitors to the Cycles and will meet a painful end!”

 

THERE ARE ALWAYS WEAK ONES IN THE FLOCK. WEAKNESS CANNOT BE TOLERATED. I AM AWARE OF BOTH INDIVIDUALS. THE FIRST, AS YOU SAID, IS NO CONCERN. HOWEVER, VARGROS I UNDERESTIMATED. DESPITE NOT BEING ABLE TO DECRYPT OUR DISCUSSIONS I DO NOT CARE FOR ANYONE MONITORING OUR CONVERSATIONS AT ALL. VARGROS IS QUITE A UNUSUAL FOR A NAUSICAAN.

 

“What?,” Death typed “You knew Vargros was listening to our conversations? Mark my words,I will kill them both myself!”

 

WHEN YOU CATCH THEM OF COURSE.

 

A frigid chill ran up Death’s spine. How did Monsoon know of their escape? Did he learn via computer, or is there a remaining Cycle that is a mole for Monsoon’s organization? The Nausicaan was frozen to the point where Monsoon proceeded with the conversation.

 

DO NOT WORRY D. THEIR TREACHERY WILL WORK TO OUR ADVANTAGE. ESPECIALLY YOURS.

 

“How?” Death typed with haste.

 

I SHALL MAKE IT KNOWN THAT BYBLOS PLANNED, ARMED AND EXECUTED THE ATTACK AGAINST THE GUARDIANS. HIS NAME WILL DRAW ATTENTION FROM YOURS.

 

“I see. I shall make all available data on him available to you, But Vargros-”

 

VARGROS MY ORGANIZATION WILL TRACK DOWN. WE WILL FIND HIM AND ENLIGHTEN HIM TO A NEW PATH OR BE DELETED.

 

BYBLOS WILL MAKE THE FIRST MISTAKE. TO CATCH VARGROS, FROM WHAT I HAVE NOTED, WILL TAKE TIME AND EFFORTS YOUR ORGANIZATION DOES NOT HAVE. I TAKE IT YOU ARE MOVING YOUR BASE OF OPERATIONS AS WE SPEAK?

 

Death did not even contemplate the move. The Cycles of Death retreat? Unthinkable! Yet, was Monsoon acknowledging that the treasonous targ, Byblos, might have been right? Death had to think again. He could defy Monsoon. He began to type, “The Cycles never retreat, even in the face of Klingons!”

 

OH IT IS NOT THE KLINGONS I WOULD WORRY ABOUT YET. I DON’T BELIEVE YOU COMPREHEND THE SCOPE OF INJURY OUR OPERATION HAS INFLICTED ON THE GUARDIANS. THEY HAVE NO COMMAND STRUCTURE IN THE SUNSET DISTRICT. ELIMINATING A SHERIFF, NO MATTER HOW INCOMPETENT, WILL CAUSE A FIRESTORM OF A REACTION. FOR YOUR SAKE I SUGGEST YOU MOVE. IT WOULD BE A PITY FOR US NOT WORK TOGETHER AGAIN IN THE FUTURE.

 

Our Operation? Death thought as he unseated himself from his terminal and stood looking at his lair around him.. Our...? Death then began to realize he was indeed dealing with a very powerful personage and no doubt had to be a Rainmaker. His next reply would be the worst thing he had ever typed as leader of the Cycles: a suggestion of vassalage.

 

“I will immediately begin the move,” Death typed with a taste of disgust.

 

A WISE DECISION MY FRIEND. IT WOULD BE REGRETTABLE NOT TO HAVE YOUR SERVICES FOR THE FUTURE. AS FOR YOUR TRAITORS, LEAVE THEM BE. I WILL HANDLE THEM PERSONALLY.

 

With that line the screen went blank. And Death had, just like that, become a vassal to Monsoon and the organization Monsoon represented.