The Fiercest Craving

by Max Jager

  "Offer?"

  "Yes, and it is precisely this: Royale Academy is willing to place you in tenth year studies for math and science as long as you continue English and other non-technical subjects at your current grade level. Furthermore, you will be given access to the library, laboratories and other facilities reserved for higher year students."

  At that statement, Koren's thirst for knowledge overwhelmed him. He would be able to study and learn new things at his own rapid pace.

  "Would I be able to take books out of the library?" he asked politely.

  The official smiled. "Absolutely, Koren."

  Koren smiled back. "You can call me Hathren."

  B2 Chapter 6

  VI - Reform Era, Year 1021

  Rem gradually opened his eyes, greeted by foggy vision. The glare of a bright overhead lamp dazed him for over a minute as he tried to get his surroundings into focus. He found himself sitting in a chair, his arms restrained to the back and his legs tied to the chair's legs. Looking around the room, he spotted neither the renegades nor Brad. On the ceiling, he saw some sort of camera and reckoned it had a surveillance-related purpose. The door to the small room opened and in walked a heavily decorated soldier of the IFG, bearing a smug grin on his face. Rem leered at him, displaying the gap in his front teeth.

  "Now, now, kid, no need to be so feisty. You thought you could come in here and kick our asses but you were sadly mistaken. I daresay, however, you did a mighty fine job for a runt with the fifteen casualties you got."

  "Yeah, and I guess your ship is doing a mighty fine job wiping out my planet."

  "Oh it sure is. It really is such an easier alternative to negotiation, given that your kind are not even competent enough to sign a treaty."

  Rem struggled against the bonds holding him to the chair with all his might and ended up knocking himself and the chair over in the process.

  "Oh c'mon kid, you really think you can get out of a Class A security facility? Dream all you want," the man chided as he righted Rem's chair.

  "Now, runt, if you don't want your death to be slow and painful, you're going to answer some questions before you die."

  "Fuck off," Rem spat.

  In the blink of an eye the man kicked the soft underside of the chair right below Rem's crotch, causing him to scream in pain.

  The man chuckled. "We can kill you that way too, kid, if you're so inclined."

  "A...Alright what do you want to know?" Rem spouted with great difficulty.

  "Who in the hell sent you to this ship? Some kind of mercenary organization or something?"

  "Fuck if I know."

  The same pain immediately returned to Rem's crotch, this time with twice the intensity. It took almost a minute for Rem to stop howling in pain.

  "Okay, okay, some group called the Black Raiders," Rem invented. "They got a base somewhere on Iltenaan as far as I know, but that will probably be done for when you fuckers are through with it."

  Rem squirmed as a fist suddenly connected with his left cheek and caused him to rotate his head to the limit that his neck allowed. The stinging pain of the bruise asserted itself seconds afterward.

  "The only fucker that's gonna get fucked is you, kid! You got that?"

  Rem suddenly heard a familiar rapid beeping coming from outside the door.

  He grinned. "Is that so?"

  Rem braced himself just in time as a sudden explosion caved the door in and sent shrapnel from its remains flying everywhere. One of the pieces punctured the solider in the back of the head, and he collapsed instantly.

  Peering through the smoke, Rem heard a familiar voice.

  "You doing alright, Rem?"

  It didn't belong to Brad or any of the renegades.

  "J-Jo?" Rem mumbled in shock.

  A heavily bandaged half-orc wearing a belt consisting of cylinders linked together approached Rem and undid his bonds with a knife.

  "How in the hell'd you..." Rem began.

  "C'mon man, you can't discount me 'cause I got one fucking burn. I figured I'd give these bastards some payback using their own methods."

  Rem pulled a pistol from a holster attached to the felled soldier and pushed down the safety switch. Another soldier suddenly emerged from the smoke only to be downed immediately by a shot to the forehead. Rem blew on the edge of the barrel. "Kill count: Rem - sixteen, Jo - one."

  "Hey, that ain't fair man, I just got here," Jofal complained.

  "Alright, we'll say one to one then. Now, let's rescue the others and bring this bad boy down."

  8:33 a.m.

  "Hathren, will you care to read the passage on page thirty-seven?" Ms. Vienna inquired.

  "Absolutely," Hathren replied enthusiastically, much to the surprise of Ms. Vienna and the class.

  He cleared his throat. "There are five indefinite pronouns--all, any, most, none and some--that can act in both a singular and a plural context. For instance, one can say, 'All people love cake.' One can also say, 'All of the cake is yours.' Note that in the first example, 'All' is used in a plural context, while in the second it is singular."

  "Very good," Ms. Vienna lauded.

  Hathren himself was surprised that while he had quickly learned to read and was very literate, he never noticed how some words could fit into different grammatical contexts. He focused himself for the next twenty minutes of the grammar lesson, eagerly awaiting the advanced math class he would take in the next period.

  When the lesson finally ended, another school official opened the door to the classroom and beckoned Hathren to follow him. He led Hathren to an elevator at the end of a long hallway and pushed the button for the fifth floor, the highest possible.

  "This way," he gestured.

  Hathren's eyes widened and his mouth gaped as he saw students much older than himself working with chemicals in test-tubes and vials in a laboratory on his left, while on his right, he saw others working at computer terminals, apparently performing some form of mathematical analysis. He followed the guide to the end of the hall and watched as the official opened two large sliding doors at the push of a button, revealing a vast lecture hall already packed with several tenth year students. He shot Hathren a smile that said "Good luck" and made his way back to the elevator.

  ---

  Rem assumed a ready-to-fire stance with his pistol and scanned the immediate hallway outside the interrogation room.

  "All clear," he whispered.

  "Roger that," Jofal replied.

  "Which way did you come from?"

  "Your left."

  "We'll head right then."

  Checking that the coast was clear a second time, Rem dashed out the door and toward his right, motioning for Jofal to follow.

  "Y'know it's a pain in the ass that I have a pistol that kills instantly yet you're a moving target with that belt of IEDs," Rem muttered.

  "Deal with it," Jofal said matter-of-factly.

  They came to the end of the hallway, having checked all the rooms along the way but finding no sign of Brad or any of the renegades. Advancing through the hallway meant opening a door by means of a fingerprint scanner.

  "Can't do it the civilized way," Rem joked after attempting a scan. "You know what to do, Jofal."

  Jofal pulled two of the tubes from his belt, adhered them to the door, inserted a remote detonator into one of them, and gave Rem the order to stand back. After several beeps in rapid succession, the door blew into smithereens. Immediately, a kind of super-human sense prompted Rem to sidestep as a bullet flew past where his head would have been. He and Jofal took cover on opposite sides of the blown door. In rushed the renegades accompanied by Brad.

  The renegade who had fired the bullet shot Rem a look of astonishment.

  "Rem... I had no idea. And Jofal? What's the meaning of this?"

  "Rem would still be in interrogation if it weren't for me," Jofal answered defiantly.

  "But... what about your condition? You're in no position to deal with a fully armed and capable military fo
rc-"

  Blood instantly spattered from the renegade's still-moving mouth, and he fell to the ground clutching his throat and chest.

  "Get to cov-," attempted another renegade only to be shot down as well.

  Rem, Brad and Jofal used the opportunity to take cover in the small wall space on either side of the door. The third renegade had managed to do so as well. Strangely enough, and much to the fright of the three half-orcs, he met the same fate of his comrades.

  "Fucking hell! It's a sniper! Run for it!" Rem cried before a sharp force pummeled him to the ground and knocked him out.

  ---

  The voice was in Orcish, and Rem could hear it clearly.

  Please, Reaper, please spare me! I swear in my next life that I'll barely eat a grain of rice without producing a hundred of my own!

  The Reaper grinned, showing several menacing layers of sharp, hooked teeth. His form was that that of a cloaked black skeleton wielding a hammer in its right rand and a rusty nail its left.

  Next life? Hahahahaha. You think I'll grant a second chance to sloths like you?

  Please! Anything but the hammer and nails!

  Oh, so you'd prefer I'd skin you alive instead? Very well, I've been looking for material for a new cloak.

  The Reaper cackled and the tool in its right hand changed form into a kind of short scythe. A blood-curdling scream ensued immediately. Rem wanted to cover his ears but he couldn't. He wanted to shut his eyes, but his eyelids wouldn't move. So this was Ekros, the Orcish incarnation of hell? Was Rem destined for the same punishment as that of the orc he just witnessed?

  Tossing aside the perfectly harvested skin, the gruesome black skull turned in Rem's direction.

  You're next, kid. The statement sounded more like a command than a declaration.

  As if completely bound to the Reaper's will, Rem's legs slowly moved him toward the aberration.

  So, what can I do for you, kid? What brings you to my realm?

  Haven't I d...died? A shaken Rem asked.

  Why, hell no! I know very well how much time you have left, kid. Now's sure as heck not your time.

  Then, why am I here?

  The Reaper crouched until it and Rem were at eye level. It reached out a mummified, bony and black hand and placed it on Rem's scalp.

  You seem to be in a quandary, my boy. Then, let me tell you your purpose in this life. You are to bring about the revelation of a man by the name of...

  "Koren!" Rem awoke screaming. He rose and dashed in the opposite direction of the door that Jofal had blown up. Driven completely by instinct, he dashed down several corridors, making left and right turns on a whim. He was drawing nearer to a dead end when he heard a voice coming from behind one of the doors in the hallway.

  "Yeah we knocked him out as soon as we told him the truth about his planet being blown to bits."

  "I see. Can you pass the hyper-fiber thread?"

  "Absolutely. What do you think the difficulty of this operation is?"

  "It will be a challenge. It is, after all, the first of its kind ordered by the Chancellor himself."

  "I see."

  Rem had heard enough. Cocking his pistol, he barged into the room to find a doctor, nurse and a recognizable figure occupying a hospital bed: Koren. So far, a loose, pale sort of skin covered his lower body.

  Rem raised his gun and aimed it at the doctor's lower chest. "What the hell are you freaks trying to do to Halfet?"

  The doctor stood rigid and speechless.

  "Please stop this! You don't understand!" the nurse entreated.

  Rem shot her through the chest without a second thought.

  "Erica!" the doctor cried.

  Rem pointed the gun back at the doctor's chest. "No. It's you bastards who don't understand! First taking Iltenaan and then Koren? I'll never forgive you! Go to hell you fuck-"

  Before Rem could finish, two strong pairs of arms grabbed him by each of his shoulders, causing him to drop his gun.

  "It's us, Rem. We gotta get the hell out of here; they've sent reinforcements!" the voice of Jofal sounded.

  Rem struggled with all his might. "No, they've got Hathren-"

  "For shit's sake, we don't have time!" Brad said ruefully.

  "I'll get you back, Koren!" Rem cried.

  Possessing a keen sense of direction, they sprinted down a hallway and rushed down several flights of stairs, finally spotting a sign saying "Sector Q." They rushed through the clearing under the sign and opened the door, only to be confronted by a full battalion of soldiers and no sign of the cruiser.

  "Weapons to the ground!" a fully armored man commanded.

  Frozen to the spot, Rem dropped his pistol, and the three of them proceeded to raise their hands above their head.

  One of the soldiers smirked. "I think we'll have fun doing this execution style. Or do we want to shoot each of their limbs a few times before doing anything fatal."

  "So this is it," Jofal muttered helplessly. "The pact was for nothing."

  "I guess," Brad sighed.

  "On my command," the armored soldier spoke. "Raise... and... fir-"

  Within a split second, the soldier took a particle beam through the mid-torso. The beam went on to miss Jofal's head by only a few feet and blow a hole in the nearby wall. The other soldiers turned to face the attacker, an Imperial class gunship. They quickly met the same fate of their leader, falling to the ground with a look of mortified astonishment on their faces.

  A hatch opened and a gruff voice addressed Rem and his company. "Quick, get in before the vacuum takes all the air out of there!"

  Book 2: Epilogue

  Epilogue - Nano Era, Serann Dynasty - Year 5

  1:43 p.m.

  The atmosphere in the cruiser was still as calm as when Hathren had begun telling his tale. The other half-orcs seated around the table wore looks that could be considered a cross between understanding and astonishment. Lem finally broke the silence.

  "So, this Rem, as you call him, how did he know about the coming of the IFG forces? He even successfully predicted his own death!"

  "It's as puzzling to me as it is to you," Hathren responded. "My only guess would be that he somehow made contact with the IFG outside of my knowledge, and they came to some sort of agreement. He spoke of death with the air that it would act as punishment for his sins."

  "I see," Lem replied gravely. "So you continued these cosmetic surgeries upon becoming Serann's head of medical affairs?"

  "Precisely."

  "About how many have you done in the five years you operated?"

  "I've lost count, but I imagine I've done upwards of a thousand jobs."

  "A thousand lives lived without discrimination," Avar Sulten mused.

  "Not quite, Avar, we still have one to save: the last one Hathren morphed before the authorities captured him," Lem corrected. "Hathren, have you any idea of the possible whereabouts of that baby?"

  "My subjects are typically entrusted to my assistant nurse," Hathren said with an air of uncertainty in his tone.

  "And then what happens?" Brent Knox asked, sounding concerned.

  "The nurse secretly delivers the baby to the half-orc renegades who worked with Rem while he was alive. That was the deal we made prior to his death."

  "Would you have any reason to believe that this would be any different?" Estin Vankok inquired.

  A spark suddenly ignited in Hathren's mind.

  "Dammit! I should've known! That fucking hag!" he cursed.

  Lem stood up from his seat. "Calm down Hathren! What exactly do you mean?"

  "The nurse; she said some bullshit like 'think of the trouble you've saved many pairs of eyes.'"

  "Evidently questioning how pleasant our kind is to look at," Sil noted sarcastically. "But how would those words indicate her infidelity?"

  "None of my assistants in the past have ever said a word of slander against orc-kind!" Hathren retorted.

  "But how did you know you could trust the changelings with any of them? Heck, ho
w did you get them to help you without causing any suspicion with the rest of the hospital staff?" Azer Blain asked.

  "I got to know them all personally over the several years I've worked as head of medical affairs. I secretly offered the job to those who demonstrated a strong passion for the liberation of orc-kind."