Escape From Redeem, Rise of an Emperor

Planet: Akrioka-Orkra- Orkra Clan World

Lucy Watched as thousands, upon thousands, of ranks of the green skinned beasts marched to the clearing to where she was chained. She had tried to slip out of the tight constraints that bit deeply into her wrists. She couldn’t feel her arms any more, after the days of them being raised above her head. The clearing she was in was large enough for several star ships. The hundreds of thousands of warriors stood patiently outside of the hideous pyramid like structure, where the Shaman dwelt.

They had worked themselves into frenzy by the time the bizarre, wild eyed Shaman appeared on the buildings balcony. He stirred them up further, in his foul language, as he admired the ranks of his brethren that beat crude, but wicked looking blades onto their chest. They all carried an array of weaponry.

Some carried the large cannon like guns that had melted through one inch thick doors, back on Lucy’s ship. Others carried long carbine guns, strapped over their shoulders. They almost looked happy in their rage, she observed. Their armour clattered, as they beat the weapons on steel covered chests, which bulged with overdeveloped muscle. Making them seem hunched over slightly.

The mad looking alien that had placed his hand on her head was now shouting into a crescendo. It ended with the roar of the thousands of warriors before him.

He then pointed to Lucy who was unshackled and brought to him on the buildings platform. As she was led through the building, she noticed the walls were covered in what seemed like blood.

There were also drawings, of arcane looking beings, slaughtering or sacrificing races of all descriptions, on a stained slab. She hopped that was not her destination.

Her worst fears were realised when she was brought out onto the open balcony, where the one who had touched her so strangely, gazed at her, with saliva dripping from his lips after, his mad rant to the assembled army.

In front of him lay a large slab of stone that was similar to the sacrificial one in the drawings, inside the building. It was mostly black in colour, probably due to the amount of lives that had been taken on it.

She was push to her knees, at the whoops from the crowed. The mad beast pulled a large, dark brown blade from where it was strapped to his back, and stood before the stone menacingly.

Lucy had thought she would escape at some point, or at least try to reason with them, to secure her freedom. However, it looked like her time was up.

She considered how her death would come, to the butcher’s blade. When the large alien that commanded the others, at the camp she had been kept in, walked to the stone.

They led some of her crew, by chains that were attached to their shackles. The mud smeared men looked terrified as they were taken before the baying hoards, who screamed up at the unfolding show of humiliation.

The first of them was taken to the stone. He was too weak from malnourishment, to put up a fight. They lay him onto the stone alter, and he panted in fear as the mad looking alien lowered his blade, and rested it onto the man’s neck.

A tiny drop of blood made a path through his mud caked shoulders, as the blade bit into his flesh, almost tenderly.

‘No… no. don’t do this.’

He looked over to the Lucy and the other crew members, with eyes that pleaded for them to help him. But no help would come for the poor man. The executioner seemed to enjoy the pleading of his victim, and smiled with teeth that were sharp and stained a yellow colour that reminded Lucy of a shark like predator, back on earth.

The great white shark had been extinct on earth, for about a hundred years now. But holograms she’d seen, had displayed a set of teeth that were made for biting, and to cause as much damage as possible. She now looked at teeth that were smaller in size, and just as deadly looking in their ferocity.

He raised the blade high and brought it down in a violent chop that severed the man’s head in one clean cut. The arterial spray of blood from the man’s neck, showered Lucy and the other crewman, who watched in horror, as their comrades head fell to floor with a thud.

‘My god… They are animals.’

The other crew member shouted. She had got to know them well in the cages. His fear and anger would not last long though, as he was forced forward, and put up more of a fight than the last victim.

He was promptly put onto the sacrificial stone and the process was repeated. Lucy had never seen so much blood in all her young life, and it sickened her to the stomach. They took more time with this crewman, cutting off one limb at a time. All that was left in the end was a head and torso, which added to the blood that pooled around where Lucy knelt.

They left him like that for a short while, as he bled out. The crowd roared again, drowning out the man’s screams. They delighted in the slaughter. Before the man passed out from the pain and blood loss; the blade fell for the final death stroke that parted the man’s head, and ended his agony

They turned to her, and picked her up from the red puddle of blood that she knelt in. She was placed onto the stone that was hot to the touch after a day in the heat of the planets sun. Everything seemed to move in slow motion as she contemplated being chopped to pieces.

She stared at the blood shot crazed eye, and waited for the end.

***

Planet:Earth, Advanced Training Academy

The Dojo within the Advanced Training Academy was a complete contrast to the modern structures that had sprang up around the globe. Its timber frame, that was traditional to this part of old Europe, let it blend in with the mountainous surroundings with ease.

Most of the buildings in this new age of wonder were built using modern materials, such as Graphenatium. This was a steel alloy mix of Graphene; a pure carbon that was very strong, but extremely thin and. one atom thick. It could be layered with metals, to create the perfect building material, which was light, strong and could be used in many other applications. Such as, space craft, weaponry and armour.

Kruger walked through the armoury that displayed many powerful weapons, made from this remarkable material. He stopped to look at a sword, that belonged to the man he had come to see. Its blade was a dull grey in colour, but its edge would cut through the most skilfully wrought armour. The handle and hilt of the blade was golden, and wrapped in tan red leather that was starting to wear. The owner of this blade ensured it was well used.

He gradually made his way to a large court yard that was galleried, and two stories high. He had emerged on the first floor, where he had a decent view on the assembly of trainee Guardsmen surrounding a lone figure, in a circle of eight men.

They all had wooden practice swords that were raised high in the ready position. The lone figure in the centre of this circle stood silently, with his eyes closed and head down. His practice sword was sheathed by his side, as he waited for the inevitable attack from his students.

The lone Master in the centre was as strange and mysterious as they came at the Academy. To become a Master within the ranks of the Guard, You must have a sharp mind and excel at the many martial disciplines that a warrior must possess.

Master Thion was very proficient at all skills of combat. Whether it was hand to hand or firearms, he could make a very good account of himself. But his true talent and love, was sword play.

The only known men ever to offer Master Thion any real competition was the famous Dorn Bruce and maybe Caleb Bruce, who had honed his sword skills, under the tutorage of the Master below, and waited patiently for the eight students to attack.

At only 35 years of age, he was young to be as highly placed as he was. But so exceptional was his skill, that no one had questioned his elevation to instruct trainee Guardsmen in his martial arts, here at the Academy.

Even though he was outnumbered eight to one, it was they who looked nervous, in this confrontation of arms. Thion was an Albino and had long hair, which had been tightly woven into many strands of locks that fell down to his back.

His strange appearance and manner was not what made the eight young men hesitate. No; Thion’s reputation was well known. If they did not defeat him, then even with a training blade, most of the trainees would need to visit the infirmary after this sparing session. The young Sword Master would always say to his students, that the pain would imprint muscle memory, so they would not be defeated by the same move twice.

But since no student had ever touched him with any kind of blow. Kruger did not hold out much hope, for the young men who were tensing to launch their combined assault.

They attacked together, as he knew they would. He watched Thion spin in a whirl of motion, and then he darted through a gap and hit the student as he past, with a winding blow that brought him to his knees.

The other seven advanced past the winded student and pursued the Sword Master who was now suddenly not surrounded. It was impressive to watch conceded Kruger.

As they came at him again, he moved in angles that lured them into many false attacks. He thrust towards one of the advancing pack, and then he suddenly leaped and swayed to where the real attack would fall.

With four more expert swings his wooden sword disarmed two more attackers, who both held their arms in pain and moved away from the tornado like Thion.

Five remained against him; they came at him cautiously now. Each one probing his defence with an exploratory jab or cut that was parried aside comfortably enough.

He made another pass and his sword connected with all of their training weapons. This time, he hit the legs of two more that dropped to the floor, both nursing injured shins.

Three remained, who were obviously the most talented among them all. Thion attacked one, and the other two went to his flanks cutting low and high, forcing him to parry one blade or the other. But Thion spun horizontally through the middle of both swings and landed face down on the floor, where he rolled and swept one of the students with his sword and continued the movement into a thrust to the others rib cage, that cracked in its steady ferocity.

Both men moved aside to leave the last one of the band of eight. Thion nodded to the young man, that had his wooden sword raised high in preparation of the inevitable. The Sword Master attacked with cuts and thrusts that were too fast to follow. The instincts of the final trainee were outstanding.

The recruit, even launched an attack sequence of his own, that made the agile albino seem to stumble backwards. The youngster’s eyes lit up in what seemed like an opportunity of a lifetime. If he was to even land a glancing blow onto Thion, then he would be lauded among the other Cadets for years.

But alas the stumble was yet another ruse in the arsenal of the Sword Master, who smiled at the attack and turned the thrusting blade to one side and jumped forward to place his sword at the throat of the last man standing.

The rest of the students watched, and held the different areas where he had struck them. Thion lowered his weapon and said in clear voice that carried up into the gallery, where Kruger was standing.

‘Did you enjoy the show Guy?’

Kruger descended a nearby staircase, and approached the pale looking Sword Master imperiously.

‘It’s Captain now actually Master Thion. Let us observe the correct protocols.’

Kruger said this lightly, but Thion would know he meant what he said. It was no secret that Kruger had always desired the mantle of Captain of the Elite Guard. Dorn Bruce had always left the affairs of the Academy to Master Kam and others like Thion. But he would be keeping a close watch on the place, until they had executed their plan.

‘You are correct; Captain. Forgive my lack of etiquette.’

Thion acknowledged with a hint of sarcasm. He had never got on with the power hungry Kruger, who openly craved advancement. If that meant stepping over people to get their; so be it. He did however respect him as a warrior. He was a similar age to Thion, and they had been raised in the Academy together, where their rivalry had on many occasions reached boiling point.

The Sword Master did not crave any position, other than the one he held at the Academy. Kruger had soon realised that he posed no threat to his advancement. Once he knew the mighty Thion was happier to dwell at this isolated old Dojo, and play with his swords He pretty much ignored the strange man.

He mused that there were much easier ways to dispatch an enemy than with a blade. He still wore the ring, which had spiked the greatest of them all. Sword fighting prowess did not do Dorn any good, and it would not help the pasty looking albino before him either, if he decided to eliminate him as well.

They did however have one thing in common which was why Kruger was here at the Dojo.

‘I have come to ask you about our old Master.’

He asked, in his typical gravelly voice.

‘Tong?’

‘Yes.’

Thion turned to his trainee Guardsmen.

‘I must speak with our new Captain; practice sequences 1 to 10, until the sun sets this evening. Take no food and water until you put down your weapons. Begin!’

They all limped or shuffled into position, and started the first of the 10 attack sequences of the day. It was 11 in the morning, so they had a long time ahead of them. They set to their tasks without complaint. A Guardsmen’s lot was hardship in the pursuit for perfection, and to better serve the President. They would suffer Thions wrath, if they so much as grimaced from the order.

‘Come Captain let us go to my chambers, and leave this sorry lot to their studies.’

Kruger inclined his head in agreement and they made their way to Thion’s private quarters, which he had so conveniently located next to the duelling floor, in the courtyard. He liked to sleep near his precious Dojo fighting floor. Kruger envied the simple pleasures this man enjoyed sometimes.

‘So Captain, what of Master Tong. He is long dead now is he not?’

‘He is.’ Thion closed the sliding doors to his chambers, to silence the whooshing of blades outside. He enjoyed that sound well. But felt that their topic of conversation should be held more privately.

‘I have not come to talk about him. I came to seek information of his son Keblie Tong. Do you know his whereabouts at all?’ The poker face of the Sword Master could not be read easily. This skill was vital in a warrior. He would always say that emotions could be used against you, if not hidden adequately.

‘The last I heard about Keblie, was that he went into the Himalayan Mountains to join some religious order. I haven’t seen him in years.’

Thion said, as he approached a cabinet where he placed his practice sword into its stand.

Kruger noted the Spartan efficiency of the room. Everything had its place and there were few things to show off vanity here. His main weapons were in the armoury with everybody else’s. The only thing that he did have on display was a sword on a stand, which was as legendary as Dorn Bruce’s weapon, Traitors Bane.

On the blade was a mark of the creator of this weapon. The signature etched into the sword was just above the hilt, which said; DS.

The Guild of Smiths had many levels of abilities. Some would produce weapons to the masses and some would craft the finest instruments of war ever created.

The initials on this sword indicated that it was forged and crafted by Domonique Shabal, who was the greatest weapon smith of the age. Precious few swords were made by Shabal, before his death five years ago. Perhaps Thion would have to die, so he could get his hands on the prized sword. He would need one of Domonique Shabal’s weapons, if he was to become High Lord of Earth.

There was an energy stud on the hilt that would make the sword glow with power when activated. This would help it cut through armour or bone as if it were paper.

Thion caught the interest in Kruger, regarding his most precious possession.

‘Not a day goes by Captain, that I am not thankful that the President placed that sword into my hand. It has felt like a part of me since that day.’

There was a hidden barb to Thions words and he knew it. The Sword Master was content with his position in this place. But the token of favour from the President had hurt him greatly. Maybe this was what finally turned him against Black and his regime.

‘It is remarkable, Master Thion.’ He agreed.

‘But back to present matters. When did you last see Tong’s son? Did he leave any clue to where in the Himalayans? It is a big place after all.’

‘You are correct Captain; it is a big place indeed. But it is also sparsely populated. He shouldn’t be hard to find.’

It was a vague answer and he felt like dressing down the smug Sword Master, but decided to take a different direction.

‘I know we have had our differences Thion. If this was for me I could understand your lack of memory.’

‘Oh; this is not for you Captain?’

‘It is not. It is for the President personally. He wishes to study the ways of the mind again. Don’t ask me why.’

Thion raised one of his chalky white eyebrows in a look of curious consideration. He cared much for his beloved President, and would move heaven and earth to please him.

‘When I told you I have not seen Keblie in years. That did not mean I had not heard from him Captain.’

He wondered how many more riddles this albino would weave, until he got the answers he wanted.

‘Then when did you hear from him?’

Kruger growled, through gritted teeth. He was this man’s commander but because the President liked him, there was little he could do to him, in way of punishment; Thion knew it as well.

‘I actually communicate with him all the time. You would also be able to, if you had listened to Master Tong’s teachings of the mind.’

‘What is that supposed to mean?’

‘It means Captain, that because I did listen. I am able to use my mind to accept his voice when he calls.’ Thion said patiently.

‘That’s impossible Thion; even I know that. No one can cast their mind over those distances.’ ‘Well they can now.’

So he did have other talents other than sword play. He would most certainly have to keep an eye on any other abilities, which he might be hiding.

‘If this is Possible then call him now and tell him that he has been summoned by the President.’

Thion smiled at Krugers naivety. It would take a good amount of chanting to gather and channel his thought into something Keblie could hear. The Genetic modification of the mind had enabled some of the new breed of humanity to perform feats that seemed unnatural. Those who had studied the concepts behind the evolutionary art form understood that the powers that some people were developing were not supernatural at all. Some of the gifts could even, in part be explained by science.

‘I will summon him to the Palace as soon as I am able to Captain. I will make preparations immediately.’

‘Good; if what you say is true, though I find it hard to believe. Let me know when he will be coming.’

‘As you wish Captain; was there anything else, some light sparing perhaps?’

Kruger would not fall for that. He had constantly been humiliated by Thion’s far advanced skills, when they were trainees. One day he and Defoe would unlock Black’s secrets of manipulating their own DNA. Then he might return to this Dojo and oblige the peerless Master.

‘I have no doubt you would enjoy that. But I must decline for another time. Call me as soon as you reach Keblie.’

Thion bowed and sat down cross legged on his meditation matt to begin his chanting. Kruger left, without saying goodbye. He wondered on the possibilities of communication in this way. It was nothing new for one of the few known people with psychic abilities, to talk to another sensitive person also possessing the skill. Never had he heard of someone being able to do this over such a distance. He would definitely look into this new evolution that humanity was only now, fully utilising.

He knew that Thion had some psychic talent. Only now did he ponder on just how great this ability was. Could this be the reason that he had seemed to anticipate all of his attacks on the duelling floor. He cursed not showing interest in this study, over the power of the mind. Clearly it had not been a waste of his time. If he could, he would unlock his own mind to this amazing ability. Then he might be powerful enough to become an Emperor himself.

***

Master Thion heard the arrogant Captain leave his chambers. He began chanting and focusing his mind on his old friend. He did not do this for Kruger. He did this because he was told the President wished it. He would die before he refused a request from his patron Edward Black.

Most people had shunned him as a child. Especially bullies like the man who had just left. But Black had seen past his strange ghost like appearance and encouraged him to fan the flames of his potential, when he joined the Advanced Training Academy.

He had taken the young recruit under his wing, when Dorn Bruce had highlighted his prowess with a sword. He was even asked by Black, if he would one day consider the role of Captain of the Elite Guard. But Thion had respectfully declined the offer. Instead he had chosen his love, to teach all that he knew on the art of combat. He also liked the solitude of the academy and preferred its forgiving walls to the many curious stares that came his way, in the outside world.

He was used to being different; being an Albino. It was who he was. It was just easier to not be at the centre of people’s opinions. After the first day at the academy a recruit might find his appearance haunting. But they soon learned the worth of the noble Master Thion, who would thrash any who disrespected his Dojo.

After what seemed like an eternity, he eventually touched the mind of Keblie Tong.

The connection was like locking horns with a Deer. He had been expecting the shock of it, but had always found it hard to gently touch minds with someone. The person whose mind he met did not have that same problem though.

‘Thion, Is it you?’

He heard Keblie say in his mind.

‘It is I, my old friend. You have been summoned.’