“These are Elwharri,” he growled. “They killed our kin!”
She cocked her head to the side. A part of her felt sorry for him. She suspected that he, too, had felt the call of battle and had needed an outlet. How many of her own people felt drawn to the heady swoon of battle ardor…and how many lived their lives never partaking of it?
She let out a long sigh.
“You forgot the basic tenet laid out in the Preamble of the Tomahnkhor,” she said. She locked eyes with him. “Defend the innocent and oppose tyranny at every turn. It is what our civilization was built upon.” She paused and looked at the bodies that lay all around her, and then she glanced at where the Elwharri stood, each one of them warily clutching at a Vorwhol weapon. She pointed to the Elwharri. “Two hundred years ago, their kin killed ours. And our kin killed theirs. Which one of the Elwharri you murdered on Soung ever did us harm…did you harm? You invented an enemy out of long and mostly forgotten histories, and in doing so, you became the Tahn Kree.” She rose to her feet and stepped closer. “And we…” she said, motioning to the company of the Emerald Sword, “we are the Subahn.”
“Betrayer!” he screamed.
She ignored him, and a well of pity sprang up in her heart.
“I came for your head, Hishkara,” she replied calmly. “The Elwharri deserved their vengeance upon the Tahn Kree, but the stain of our family’s dishonor will be removed.”
In a flash, she raised her blade and fulfilled the oath she’d made to her father.
* * *
The Farewell
Soung
Valaroos Colony
“I was right to trust you,” Hyram said, handing up Shaleen’s pistol. Her laser carbine already lay secured in the sheath on her saddle. She sat astride Rhona at the center of the colony, with Harn’s bridle secured to her saddle horn. Several hundred Elwharri of every age grouped around her warriors, some of them mounted, some of them standing huddled in groups. Their gray-blue fur was a stark contrast to the white snow and pale buildings that surrounded them.
What remained of the Emerald Sword was now mounted behind her in two long lines, most of them with a riderless danketh beside them. Shaleen’s company had lost seven warriors, but the whole of Hishkara’s had been wiped out.
“I…we were honor-bound to right this terrible wrong inflicted upon the Elwharri,” she said, sliding the pistol into its holster. “I know that it is worth less than nothing, but I am so very sorry for all your people have lost.”
“It was never your fault or failure,” Hyram replied. He exhaled slowly, and his breath drifted away in a cloud of steam. “But you do us all honor not only in what you have done today, but with your words of sorrow. Believe me when I say I feel and honor them.” He reached up. He grasped her forearm, and she his. “There is no blood between us,” he said.
“Thank you, Hyram.” She released his arm and glanced back at her company, making sure they were all ready. “With that, we must take our leave of you, but do not forget the oath I swore upon my arrival. My family owes you a debt, and I mean to see it paid.”
“I understand,” Hyram said. He bowed deeply. “There is something I would like to know, if I may ask.”
“Ask anything.”
“Why did you lay down your arms?”
“Ancient rules of battle,” she said easily. “My brother gave me the option of picking the terms, so I did.”
“But you knew we’d come for your weapons, and what we wanted to do with them.”
“I did.”
“Didn’t that break your own rules of honor?”
“No. I faced him based on the ancient tenets of the Vorwhol. What you did, you deserved to do…needed to do. He slaughtered your people, and using Vorwhol weapons to wipe out what remained of that company was, at least, some small recompense for all that has been done. I faced him on his own terms, and using everything at my disposal, I beat him. What happened here, today, falls well short of any real justice, but as long as I’m being honest, I also didn’t want any more of my company or our mounts injured than was absolutely necessary.”
“I understand,” Hyram said, nodding. “You are wise beyond your years, young Shaleen.”
“No,” she said. “I am merely the Kosai of the Emerald Sword.”
“Safe travels, Shaleen, daughter of Jahnik. Your name will be spoken among the Elwharri for many decades to come.” He paused, searching her eyes. “What will you do now? Return home?”
“We must. Hishkara’s head must go to my father. But after that…I have some ideas.”
“Peace, then,” Hyram said, “although my instincts tell me that you do not really seek such a thing.”
“You may be right.” She gave him a subtle smile. With one final nod, she shook Rhona’s reins.
With a growling huff, the mighty danketh strode forward, headed for the Vorwhol transport that would take them all home. She heard her company move forward behind her, and she felt the weight of Hishkara’s head bouncing against her saddle with every stride.
* * *
The Company
Kael System
Approaching Kael
Kael was a growing sphere in the viewport of the observation lounge. The gate transitions had been a bit easier on Shaleen this time, although not by much. She heard the door open behind her and the plodding steps of Sub-Administrator Dokmor.
As he neared, she said, “Thank you, again, for giving us the opportunity to resolve matters within the family.”
“As I said, it was not my decision to make,” he said matter-of-factly. “The Accords were clear. In their absence, I would have likely chosen a different path.”
“You followed the Accords, and for that I am grateful…I meant what I said about my debt to you and the Elwharri.”
“I never thought otherwise, and based upon what you have done, I suspect you will be hearing from the Bith or the Elwharri before too much time has elapsed. There is much going on in the galaxy, and a Vorwhol company as capable as yours can be a useful tool.”
“Is that all we will be to you?”
“No,” he replied, and he sounded sincere. “No matter what, I have a profound respect for those who adhere to honor.”
“Then I would like to request something,” she said. “If you can stay on or near Kael, I would like to talk about how my company might be of use to your people.” She eyed him, wondering what his reaction might be. “I was doing some research during the journey home, and I came across references to a place called the Salvage System.” She let the name hang between them. She suspected the Administrator could guess immediately what she had in mind.
“And you are contemplating going there?”
“Perhaps,” she replied, unwilling to give him too much. “Might it be possible?”
Dokmor’s face was a model of serenity, as if a calm sea rose and fell beneath a sky without wind.
“I believe it might be,” he said slowly. “Such a thing is outside my purview, but I can put you in touch with those who would have some say in the matter.”
“Very good,” she said, turning toward the swollen image of her home world. “I will reach out to you as soon as I can. Thank you, Sub-Administrator.”
“Call me Dokmor,” he said. “Oh, and there was one more thing.” There was something almost mischievous in his voice.
“Yes?”
“Hishkara’s ship was found on the surface of Soung,” he said. “What would you like us to do with it?”
“Do with it?” she asked, confused.
“We consider it—a rather well-appointed heavy transport, I might add—to be his property, and therefore, the property of your family.” He let the words hang between them.
She slowly understood what he was getting at, and she gave him a toothy smile.
“Would it be possible for you to have it brought to Kael?”
“Indeed,” he said. “For a price. There would also be the gate fee, but we would be willing to couple it to a much larger
transport to defer most of that cost.” He turned his head slightly to the side. “If you are going to make good on your oath, and make your way to Salvage, it is likely you would find such a ship useful.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” she said as she stepped away from the window. “Please make the arrangements and send the bill to my father. I have no doubt he will be happy to pay it.” She nodded, and a surge of the battle ardor flickered in her heart. With her own ship, she and the Emerald Sword could go anywhere they wanted. They had fifty more mounts, and she doubted she would have any difficulty enlisting the help of other Vorwhol who felt as she did. The possibilities were limitless. “I believe I will retire to my quarters, Dokmor. I have much thinking to do.” She took a moment and bowed. “Thank you again.”
“You are very welcome, young…Subahn.”
She met his eyes and thought she saw admiration and respect there.
Without another word, she walked past him and out through the doors. She didn’t know what the future held, but she was certain that she would find places to slake her battle ardor honorably.
* * * * *
Quincy J. Allen Bio
Nationally Bestselling Author Quincy J. Allen is a cross-genre author with numerous novels under his belt. His media tie-in novel Colt the Outlander: Shadow of Ruin was a Scribe Award finalist in 2019, and his noir novel Chemical Burn was a Colorado Gold Award finalist in 2010. Blood Oath, Book 3 of the Blood War Chronicles, was released in February of 2019, and he is working on the fourth book in that six-book fantasy steampunk series, due out early in 2020.
He has co-authored Reclaiming Honor with Marc Alan Edelheit in their Way of Legend series, due out November 1st of 2019. He has also co-authored the novel “Enforcer” with Kevin Ikenberry in the Four Horsemen Universe Peacemaker series, due out late in 2019. He is currently working on a novel for Kevin Steverson in his Salvage universe based upon the short story Vorwhol Dishonor in this anthology.
His short story publications are numerous, including a pro sale appearing in Larry Correia’s ”Monster Hunter: Files” from Baen, published in October of 2017 entitled “Sons of the Father,” as well as several stories appearing in Chris Kennedy Publishing’s mil-sci-fi anthologies in and out of the Four Horsemen Universe.
His short story collection series, including Out Through the Attic volumes one and two, have been well received, and he continues to add to his short-story credits with each passing year.
He works out of his home in Charlotte, North Carolina, and hopes to one day be a New York Times bestselling author.
You can follow his writing endeavors at:
www.quincyallen.com and
www.facebook.com/Quincy.Allen.Author
# # # # #
About Chris Kennedy
A Webster Award winner and three-time Dragon Award finalist, Chris Kennedy is a Science Fiction/Fantasy/Young Adult author, speaker, and small-press publisher who has written over 25 books and published more than 100 others. Chris’ stories include the “Occupied Seattle” military fiction duology, “The Theogony” and “Codex Regius” science fiction trilogies, stories in the “Four Horsemen” and “In Revolution Born” universes and the “War for Dominance” fantasy trilogy. Get his free book, “Shattered Crucible,” at his website, https://chriskennedypublishing.com.
Called “fantastic” and “a great speaker,” he has coached hundreds of beginning authors and budding novelists on how to self-publish their stories at a variety of conferences, conventions and writing guild presentations. He is the author of the award-winning #1 bestseller, “Self-Publishing for Profit: How to Get Your Book Out of Your Head and Into the Stores,” as well as the leadership training book, “Leadership from the Darkside.”
Chris lives in Virginia Beach, Virginia, with his wife, and is the holder of a doctorate in educational leadership and master’s degrees in both business and public administration. Follow Chris on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/ckpublishing/.
* * * * *
About Kevin Steverson
Kevin Steverson is a retired veteran of the U.S. Army. He is a published songwriter as well as an author. He lives in the northeast Georgia foothills where he continues to refuse to shave ever again. Trim…maybe. Shave…never! When he is not on the road as a Tour Manager he can be found at home writing in one fashion or another.
* * * * *
The following is an
Excerpt from Book One of the Salvage Title Trilogy:
Salvage Title
___________________
Kevin Steverson
Now Available from Theogony Books
eBook, Audio, and Paperback
Excerpt from “Salvage Title:”
A steady beeping brought Harmon back to the present. Clip’s program had succeeded in unlocking the container. “Right on!” Clip exclaimed. He was always using expressions hundreds or more years out of style. “Let’s see what we have; I hope this one isn’t empty, too.” Last month they’d come across a smaller vault, but it had been empty.
Harmon stepped up and wedged his hands into the small opening the door had made when it disengaged the locks. There wasn’t enough power in the small cells Clip used to open it any further. He put his weight into it, and the door opened enough for them to get inside. Before they went in, Harmon placed a piece of pipe in the doorway so it couldn’t close and lock on them, baking them alive before anyone realized they were missing.
Daylight shone in through the doorway, and they both froze in place; the weapons vault was full. In it were two racks of rifles, stacked on top of each other. One held twenty magnetic kinetic rifles, and the other held some type of laser rifle. There was a rack of pistols of various types. There were three cases of flechette grenades and one of thermite. There were cases of ammunition and power clips for the rifles and pistols, and all the weapons looked to be in good shape, even if they were of a strange design and clearly not made in this system. Harmon couldn’t tell what system they had been made in, but he could tell what they were.
There were three upright containers on one side and three more against the back wall that looked like lockers. Five of the containers were not locked, so Clip opened them. The first three each held two sets of light battle armor that looked like it was designed for a humanoid race with four arms. The helmets looked like the ones Harmon had worn at the academy, but they were a little long in the face. The next container held a heavy battle suit—one that could be sealed against vacuum. It was also designed for a being with four arms. All the armor showed signs of wear, with scuffed helmets. The fifth container held shelves with three sizes of power cells on them. The largest power cells—four of them—were big enough to run a mech.
Harmon tried to force the handle open on the last container, thinking it may have gotten stuck over time, but it was locked and all he did was hurt his hand. The vault seemed like it had been closed for years.
Clip laughed and said, “That won’t work. It’s not age or metal fatigue keeping the door closed. Look at this stuff. It may be old, but it has been sealed in for years. It’s all in great shape.”
“Well, work some of your tech magic then, ‘Puter Boy,” Harmon said, shaking out his hand.
Clip pulled out a small laser pen and went to work on the container. It took another ten minutes, but finally he was through to the locking mechanism. It didn’t take long after that to get it open.
Inside, there were two items—an eight-inch cube on a shelf that looked like a hard drive or a computer and the large power cell it was connected to. Harmon reached for it, but Clip grabbed his arm.
“Don’t! Let me check it before you move it. It’s hooked up to that power cell for a reason. I want to know why.”
Harmon shrugged. “Okay, but I don’t see any lights; it has probably been dead for years.”
Clip took a sensor reader out of his kit, one of the many tools he had improved. He checked the cell and the device. There was a faint amount of power running to it that barely re
gistered on his screen. There were several ports on the back along with the slot where the power cell was hooked in. He checked to make sure the connections were tight, he then carried the two devices to the hovercraft.
Clip then called Rinto’s personal comm from the communicator in the hovercraft. When Rinto answered, Clip looked at Harmon and winked. “Hey boss, we found some stuff worth a hovercraft full of credit…probably two. Can we have it?” he asked.
* * * * *
Get “Salvage Title” now at: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07H8Q3HBV.
Find out more about Kevin Steverson and “Salvage Title” at: https://chriskennedypublishing.com/imprints-authors/kevin-steverson/.
* * * * *
The following is an
Excerpt from Book One of the Earth Song Cycle:
Overture
___________________
Mark Wandrey
Available Now from Theogony Books
eBook and Paperback
Excerpt from “Overture:”
Dawn was still an hour away as Mindy Channely opened the roof access and stared in surprise at the crowd already assembled there. “Authorized Personnel Only” was printed in bold red letters on the door through which she and her husband, Jake, slipped onto the wide roof.
A few people standing nearby took notice of their arrival. Most had no reaction, a few nodded, and a couple waved tentatively. Mindy looked over the skyline of Portland and instinctively oriented herself before glancing to the east. The sky had an unnatural glow that had been growing steadily for hours, and as they watched, scintillating streamers of blue, white, and green radiated over the mountains like a strange, concentrated aurora borealis.
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