Trojian Horse

He had underestimated the effectiveness of Vulpeculae’s cheap tricks last time but that was not going to happen again. He was smarter, stronger and would soon have the full power of the armada behind him. This planet and everything in it would be annihilated, wiped from existence leaving nothing to stand in his way. Perhaps he would cut off some Vulpeculae heads and stick them on the front of his ship as a warning to others, a warning to their bothersome resistance. Or maybe he would just carry enough Vulpeculae corpses to dump on every known moon base and planet as a show of his strength, a token of his victory and a call for all who opposed him to lay down their arms and accept his rule. Unless they hoped for a similar fate as the Vulpeculae. He turned into the corridor leading to the prison cells.

“Lord Reeger,” a Dracien soldier said, bowing low while opening the outer door of the prison unit. Reeger nodded and walked through, his imposing presence making more than a few of the soldiers to stiffen up instantly. Eventually he reached the first cell, slid a small window in the door of the dark cell. In it was a figure huddled in the corner of the cell with only their feet protruding into the little light that made its way into the room. On noticing his presence, the prisoner proceeded to hurl some well-thought-out expletives in his direction.

“I see you have a little defiance left in you yet,” Reeger said.

“You will not get away with this, they will stop you.”

“Who will stop me? Your resistance?” Reeger said, pretending to fight back fake fits of laughter.

“They will stop you and wipe that smirk off your face,” she said defiantly, walking into the light, and staring defiantly into Reeger’s steely blue eyes. “You may have taken the sword from me but the first chance I get I will not hesitate to use it to take your head off.”

“Such strong oaths for a little child. Have you forgotten how easy it was for me to catch you? Weren’t you a champion their champion? And yet how easily you were taken out of the fight. There is no more resistance. They are disorganised and the little damage they do is nothing more than a bleep. There are bigger plans here, bigger powers at play. You couldn’t stop me, they won’t stop me, no one can stop me now,” he said in a low deep voice deliberately speaking slowly to emphasise her hopelessness. Reeger took a breath, letting the words sink in. “No one will save you. You are completely at my mercy.”

She stared at him in silence. Despite her defiance, she was almost at breaking point. What little hope she had left had all but evaporated. In her mind, all that was left was a slow, soul-crushing death in the darkness of Reeger’s prison. She couldn’t even hazard a guess at how long she had been his captive.

“Yes. You see it don’t you? The hopelessness of your situation. You will undoubtedly die here, in my ship by my hand using the sword you once called yours. I understand now that the sword cannot be truly mine until you are dead or you give it to me, and we know you won’t give it to me. And we also know I’d prefer to take it.” Reeger paused for emphasis and waited for a reaction. She stepped back in horror her little defiance overwhelmed by the evil that stared her in the face at that moment. A thin smile spread on his face. “I will get all the information you have on what remains of your little resistance, you know I will. Then I will make the blade mine.”

“There is so much that you do not understand about the blade. It will destroy you,” she said in desperation. Tears welled up in her eyes.

“Only the weak who are not prepared to explore the full extent of its power would say that. I know the power it wields; I have felt it. It has taken me to places I never thought possible and the more I learn about it the more powerful I will become.”

“You…you didn’t?” she said a look of misery etched into her face.

“Oh yes. You were instrumental. I took care of my problem before it became a problem. Your hero will never be. How does it feel to know that your stupid prophecies mean nothing against the destructive power I possess? You failed.”

Reeger paused for a moment to see the if any hope remained in her face.

“Think on how devoid your world is of hope now, Reinon,” Reeger said as he shut the window to the cell. Seeing her tortured face gave him an incredible amount of satisfaction. He was hoping that satisfaction would be increased tenfold once he had Hethios and the Vulpeculae Queen in his cells to be tortured for as long as he saw fit.

He turned back and walked back up the many winding corridors until he found his way back onto the bridge. It was time to check on their progress of the imminent.

“Lord Reeger,” the occupants of the bridge shouted in unison as he entered the bridge.

“The armada? Any word from them?”

“No, my lord,” one squeaky voice behind a console answered.

Reeger stomped his foot on the floor. His impatience was beginning to get the better off him.

“How are our own preparations for the battle progressing?”

“Ground troops will be armed and ready by the time the armada arrives, my lord.”

“Good, there can be no unnecessary delays. And the attack ships?”

“All prepared for flight, my lord.”

“Excellent. Any word from Maloch?”

“He sent a communication while you were away, my lord. He is on the way here.”

“Send scouts to the Vulpeculae base. Discretely. They cannot know that we are here. I want to know everything about their defences, what sort of attack they hope to offer, everything.”

“My lord,” they said in unison. The room was instantly a hive of activity, instructions shouted over intercoms, ships being deployed and weapons being loaded. Reeger meant to make sure that none escaped alive except those he intended to kill himself later. His trip to the cells put him in buoyant mood which even the delayed armada couldn’t spoil. His vision of galactic domination by the Dracien would soon be realised. Soon his enemies would be bowing at his feet considering a life of servitude to him a mercy. He would swiftly cut their heads off and enslave their children. All except Hethios, Roue and the Queen. They were destined to survive the onslaught only to die in his prison cells when he had pulverised any shred of defiance they had left.