Prince Caliban Caerulus’s gaze fixated upon the globe that had been quietly placed on the finely lacquered hardwood table in the middle of his emergency office. His hands clenched into tight fists, ragged nails at odds with his perfectly coiffed uniform as he glared at the grainy images depicted within.
His beloved Blue Palace. The linchpin of his operations here on Earth, the very heart of his city. A magnificent bastion of soaring grandeur secured within the most exquisitely reinforced aluminum and topaz alloy that Blue Corp had spent an absolute fortune in R&D developing and testing, with electromana bonds that made it stronger than steel… stronger than tungsten. Nearly as strong as lightly enchanted alloys that cost an absolute fortune to make and were best forged by professionals channeling their individuals System-enhanced skills.
He forced himself to look with reddened eyes as the nightmare scene replayed itself once more, peering intently at the 67th floor, waiting for the telltale signs that proceeded absolute destruction. Yet still, despite bracing himself, he still flinched when the entire building below that floor abruptly bulged.
Thousands of windows instantly shattered. Countless wall panels erupted with a silent roar as the near indestructible framework of the building itself, a skeleton of Alutopaz columns and crossbeams sturdy enough to be used for starship design, were shredded as effortlessly as shattering twigs.
The prize jewel of his city, the near indestructible monument to Blue Corp ingenuity and excellence, then proceeded to collapse. Caliban could even see the horrified faces of dozens citizens who had been innocently going about their lives in the top floors through the broken window panes as the entire structure began to crumple in on itself.
But not before the blinding flash of pink light erupted from the 67th floor, a heartbeat before a streak of shadow tore right through one of the windows like a missile in reverse.
“We were attacked,” Caliban said with a horrified whisper.
Nikita, looking as exhausted as he felt and a far cry from the sophisticate managing their Bronze-tier merchandizing operations, jerked her head with a nod, tears streaming freely down her cheeks.
“And now hundreds are dead,” she whispered. “We were lucky it wasn’t thousands.”
“Yes, you were attacked,” declared the cool imperious voice of an Inquisitor possessing purple irises in a pale face that some might consider handsome with a powerful jaw, aquiline nose, and close cropped hair of a brilliant copper hue. His demeanor was that of a man looking down at filth, no matter that the pair of Blue Corp executives radiated nothing but professionalism.
The Inquisitor gazed intently at them both, as if eagerly looking for any signs of weakness, fear, or deception. “A Hyperion radiation discharge was detected from what can only be a starship core.”
Caliban and Nikita froze at those words. Their interrogator’s smirk grew as he flicked the lapels of his black leather jacket, shimmering with a pearlescent hue of multiple protective enchantments. “An imperial caliber offense was committed, and it is our duty to find the parties responsible and extract the confessions that will set all to right… before tearing free their souls.”
Caliban’s eyes widened at this, earning a cold glare from the Inquisitor.
“Make no mistake, elf. The crimes committed were of such horrific caliber that the perpetrators will be denied even the ability to reincarnate. They will be obliterated, body and soul, for all time.” The Inquisitor’s eyes flared dangerously. “Unless you have reason to object?”
Caliban’s jaw clenched. “You saw the AFV tapes of what occurred. We just survived a coordinated assault by the Red Scorpions doing all they could to sabotage my city. I would see them purged to the last man!”
The Inquisitor dipped his head. “Good. Then we are in accord.” He imperiously snapped his fingers and a second Inquisitor nearly identical in appearance and dress to the first entered, cold purple eyes glaring at Caliban and Nikita both as if they were the primary suspects, and perhaps they were.
Caliban’s sense of dismay only grew when the man brought what looked like a high-tech trolley cart with him, upon which was a green tinted container filled with bile-hued liquid. Inside that bubbling liquid, bound in chains of blackened iron, was an emaciated pale white goblin. His scrawny neck could barely hold his head above the bubbling cauldron of liquid.
The goblin opened sightless eyes before screaming.
The Inquisitor carting the container glared at the writhing pale-skinned horror before pressing a button, filling the bile-hued liquid with crackling purple lightning.
The air filled with gurgling screams and charred flesh before the snarling Inquisitor broke off the current, leaving the shuddering creature covered in burns to writhe in pain.
“You will obey or you will suffer!” snapped the glaring inquisitor into the horrified silence.
The piteous-looking goblin whimpered. “Thing will obey.”
“Good! You sense the seer globe before you, yes?”
The goblin whimpered. When the inquisitor in charge of its container tapped the side of its prison, it screamed and immediately jerked its head in a nod. “Yes! Thing senses it!”
“Good. You will now fill in the gaps in our recording. Replay the scene from the moment the foreign object impacts Blue Tower.”
The goblin whimpered. “Masters, this city is newly forged. It is barely more than living dream! The probability currents are too…” The creature’s protest broke off in desperate screams when the Inquisitor pitilessly sent currents crackling through the vat once more.
When the currents finally cut off, the pleading sobs were even more desperate and ragged than before.
Nikita’s breath hitched, horrified eyes shocked by the callous sadism. Caliban gently squeezed her hand in reassurance under the table while keeping his eyes firmly on the globe before him as the goblin pleaded for mercy.
“Thing will obey. Thing will obey!”
Caliban felt a shiver of wrongness as the globe before him seemed to pulsate, suddenly far more real, somehow, than it had been just a split second ago… while leaving him terrified that he himself was a figment of a dream just a heartbeat from fading as the real Caliban woke up and the air filled with the distant cackling laughter of another goblin he had once known… thought he knew… never known…
Greed... how did he know that name?
Nikita hissed and Caliban forced all distraction away as the globe before him, now just a globe, as it had always been… replayed the scene once more. Only now it wasn’t grainy at all.
Now, it was even more horrific to see Alutopaz alloy beams rupturing and bursting in full color, with the high pitched scream of twisted metal, or perhaps that was the goblin? As a thousand windows shattered in a spray of brilliant flashing color.
Before the scene abruptly froze. “Rewind five seconds. Then proceed Slow-time.”
Caliban found his horrified eyes captivated by the sight before him as the air rang with screams… no. It was just the goblin’s scream as that streak of darkness tore through the air. Only now it looked less like a missile and more like a… person? Or at least, the shadow outline of one.
“Thing. Clarify the individual piercing the window and multiple high tier wards.”
The scene froze, Caliban himself glaring at the shadowy form as if desperate to tear free the veil himself.
The air around them filled with a desperate plea. “Forgive Thing, Masters! This is as clear as it’s possible to bring—”
The goblin’s protestations cut off once more in piteous screams for long moments as the picture before them grew grainy and indistinct once more.
Caliban caught the inquisitor’s exchanging identical glances before the current cut off.
“Thing will obey now,” snapped the closest inquisitor.
“Thing will obey!”
“Sharpen image.”
Caliban glared at the globe that quickly took on the life-like color of before, graininess receding once more, yet the culprit who tore through the glass was still covered in shadow.
The air once more filled with the scent of ozone, scorched flesh, and a goblin’s desperate screams.
“Thing will obey now.”
“Thing will obey!”
The Inquisitor by the table glared at the globe. “Thing, you will follow the shadowy form inside the chamber. Magnify everything and keep slow-time in effect.”
“Yes, master!” The goblin sobbed with desperate relief, and Caliban felt chills when a blade of shadow sliced through a window he could now tell had been warded by nothing less than Bronze tier wards of a design alien to any Blue Corp patent.
“How?” Nikita whispered, earning a glare from the Inquisitor closest to the table.
“How what? What do you know?” The man snapped.
Nikita flinched. “How was a blade of shadow able to cut through Bronze-tier wards? This is still an early ascension White-Designated realm! Those wards aren’t Blue Corp tech. It should be impossible!”
The Inquisitor snorted. “Focus on the chamber before you. Our tool’s brain could burn out at any time.” He then turned and glared at the shuddering goblin, now foaming at the mouth. “Thing! Rewind five seconds before impact. I would hear everything being said in the chamber before oblivion strikes. Our enemies secrets will soon be our own.”
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The now humming orb before them abruptly snapped to an image of the inner chamber.
Caliban felt chills to find death waiting for them all in conference room that he knew so well, that he had held more than one meeting within, now occupied by figures that froze him where he stood.
Stony the Ogre, Flint the gnoll, along with his brother, a pair of orc shamans and multiple goblin assassins who had absolutely no right to be within Freetown under any pretext. All of them lit up by a fluorescent glow, no doubt thanks to the goblin presently living a life of torment that even Caliban was dismayed to see before all such trivialities fled his mind before pristine horror at the heart of the conference room.
His eyes were transfixed by the sight of multiple artificers channeling their potency into a containment system just barely keeping stable the orb glowing a fiery pink hue in the center of the chamber that could only be a Hyperion starship core.
And just a few feet before that core was a gate, and peering through that gate with an unmistakable hate-filled sneer, seated upon a throne of jade and gold, was none other than the cold, pitiless features of Lord Augustine himself. The Silver tier titan who had done all he could to aid his son in killing Ernest Slaughter right before he could claim and transform the wild Black-tier region that was now New Arcadia. A territory Caliban had high hopes would soon become the breadbasket of the entire northeast.
“Everything is in place?” The man’s words seemed to vibrate through the air. The potency of his aura unmistakable even through the globe.
“It is, Lord Augustine,” Stony declared.
Augustine nodded. “Good. Then you have made sufficient amends to reclaim your lives. You will now all be permitted to take the portal, along with your associates. Each of you will be granted ten million credits and free passage out of this sector.” The psychopath flashed a bleak smile. “And with the destabilization and loss of this ascending CESSPIT! Blue Faction will realize that there is a price to be paid… all of your foolish factions will realize that there is a price to be paid by any and all who would dare harbor a man guilty of murdering my son!”
Caliban had time to see the man’s sneer turn to outrage at the sound of a crash from what must have been the shattered window the shadowy culprit had entered. Caliban’s heart raced, now dreadfully certain that he knew exactly what would happen as the orb inexorably panned to reveal so many secrets best left hidden… before the crystal ball abruptly shattered.
The air rang out with a desperate scream that immediately cut off with the crackle of purple currents and an Inquisitor’s curse.
“Nazen!” Snapped the Inquisitor closest to Caliban, scowling at his partner glaring down at the utterly still remains of the Shaman whose sightless eyes now glimpsed nothing at all, no matter how much current the man sent through the lifeless contents of the vat.
Nazen sighed. “No use, Sir. Our tool gave every last ounce of its spiritual power to force the link.” The man’s lips pressed in a tight frown as he glared down at the corpse. “I suspect this abomination only tried so hard with the intention of escaping his just sentence of eternal service to our faction.”
“But at least it worked,” Nikita breathlessly said. “At least now we know the culprit behind the attack on Freetown!”
The pair of Inquisitors exchanged a look. “Indeed we do,” Nazen said with a chilly smile. “The wildcard contender your own records showed us as cutting down no less than two of Lord Augustine’s descendants within just a handful of days.”
Nikita’s eyes widened with outrage. Caliban squeezed her hand in desperate warning as the pair of Inquisitors gazed at them both like hawks, eager for the prey about to reveal itself.
“Of course you know the real reason why we are here, do you not, Prince Caliban Caerulus?” Sneered Nazen. “Because let me assure you, your pretty building made of still unproven alloys is the absolute least of the emperor’s concerns.”
Caliban clenched his jaw, dipping his head. “A hyperion core devastated Sapphria 3.”
“Correct! A hyperion core clearly obtained by a criminal goblin faction, as evidenced by their presence in the very chamber where they presented it before none other than Lord Augustine himself! Now, lets replay the conference and AFV tapes you were so kind to provide us.”
A stunned Caliban could do nothing more than watch in dismay as they replayed what Caliban in an act of sheerest stupidity had actually thought would be useful, if needed for his young friend’s defense, showing in exquisite detail how Eric in the guise of Ernest had been cornered and forced into an unwinnable fight by a predatory jackal of a would-be Contender, waiting for Eric to completely clear a Black-tier territory before slamming down cards of fate to both doom Eric and title-steal the most glorious of accomplishments on his corpse.
Yet by some miracle, Eric had actually managed to survive the trap, fighting against perilous odds before bringing his would-be killer low. Yet all it took was him refusing to acknowledge an irate Lord Augustine’s demands to effectively surrender his son and accept his own well-deserved destruction for the pair of Inquisitors to smile in cold satisfaction.
“Proof of ill intent! Quarter was requested by a favored Silver, and this monstrous Contender refused!”
Nikita inhaled to protest, it being clear as day that countless laws and edicts had been stomped upon, the Silver having used his own suppression to try and crush Ernest even as his son had sought to eviscerate him. Ernest refusing to accept his opponent's quarter in the heat of the moment while his sword plunged for the kill was his right in any court. Yet the words Nikita should know better than to utter died on her tongue under Caliban’s furious glare.
With the sheer favoritism and, yes, sadism the pair before them had shown so far, Caliban had absolutely no doubt that neither he nor Nikita would survive the day as anything but examples locked in torment equal to the former goblin's if they failed to understand the roles they would both be expected to play.
“You wish to say something?” Nazem said with honeyed malice lacing every word.
Nikita flinched and shook her head before Nazem’s smug countenance.
“No? Good. Then I believe we have reached consensus as to what has occurred. A just and honorable ruler still reeling from the death of his son was goaded into letting his defenses down, thanks to the murderous actions of one Ernest Slaughter, a factionless Terran abomination of a Contender whom we now know to be guilty for the murder of both Leonide Augustus and Aurelius Imperius Augustus, as your own AFV and conference recordings proved beyond all reasonable doubt, Prince Caliban. Actions which served to goad the honorable Lord Augustine to open his inner sanctum to negotiations, before unknown goblin agents used the portal to force the hyperion core through!”
Caliban cleared his throat. “Though there can be no doubt that Ernest Slaughter did defeat both opponents without granting quarter just as you have said, I see no evidence of deliberate goblin collusion. Is it possible he was merely a tool used by the goblins who are on record as saying they hoped for his ignoble death?”
Nazem sneered. “Truly you’re not that much of a fool, Prince Caliban? They’re clearly in collusion, seeking to throw us off the trail. No. The evidence is clear. The crumbling remains of the once far more significant goblin faction have committed an act of attempted genocide on Sapphira 3, as we both saw firsthand from the globe playback, in addition to eyewitness accounts of one Spite Bane’s declarations before over four hundred and thirty witnesses, even if no clear images of said person can be found.”
The senior Inquisitor nodded in agreement. “It’s clear that both goblins and wildcard contender are guilty of high imperial crimes.” The man then slammed a pair of documents on the table before both Caliban and Nikita. Effectively their sworn testimony exactly as the Inquisitors had just declared, already written, as if this entire investigation had been a prelude to this foregone conclusion. “Now you will both sign and we will consider the Terran element of the matter settled… or at least your particular role in it.”
The inquisitor’s cold stare turned to a cool smile when a trembling Nikita quickly signed her document, barely taking the time to read it over.
“Fear not, my dear. Both you and your lover are in the clear,” Nazem said, his smile growing at her flinch. “And more to the point, Lord Caliban, as you no doubt know, by imperial edict, any partner guilty of High Imperial Crimes immediately forfeits their share of any territories or property they had owned to either the emperor, or, in newly blossoming worlds such as this one that lie beneath imperial notice, it seems full territory rights fall to you. Perhaps that will serve as some small consolation for the unforgivable loss-of-life caused in no small part by your unworthy former associate. An association we’ll make sure is expunged from the records as a final courtesy for your… gracious compliance.”
Heart pounding, Caliban did the only thing he could. Bowing his head and signing, after making damned sure that neither he nor any other associate would be implicated, save for Ernest himself.
The second he lifted his pen, the document had disappeared.
“Splendid!” Nazem stated as his partner covered floating corpse of the shaman still in his bubbling vat of torment. “You and your… associate are both free to resume your duties. Don’t worry, we’ll take care of things for you here.”
Caliban dipped his head, taking a trembling Nikita’s hand, leaving both AFV vehicle recordings and conference tapes behind, knowing he’d never see either one again. The Inquisitors interpretation of the events would be all that was included in the official records, and any conflicting evidence would no doubt be quickly disposed of.
Caliban could only hope that, so long as it seemed that he was more than willing to play ball for a full profit share of any agreements he had made with Ernest, the Inquisitors wouldn’t feel the need to dispose of him as well.
He could sense how desperately Nikita wanted to speak, her sweaty palm against his own as they opened the conference door and headed outside. Yet the glare he gave her was that of a man who knew damn well that he was still very much under observation, and so long as those Inquisitors were on this planet, everything he said, every System message he sent, and every letter he wrote would, by arcane magic or electromana artistry, be recorded. He could only pray that Nikita understood just how dire their situation truly was, as the horror of the loss of Blue Tower had been eclipsed with the even grimmer knowledge that an entire planetary hemisphere had been obliterated, and somehow he knew exactly who was at the heart of it all.
And considering what that bastard Augustus had clearly intended for Freetown and New Arcadia, what that monstrous asshole had gloated in that very recording that the Inquisitors had damn well heard perfectly clear… that bastard had gotten exactly what he deserved, even if Caliban’s heart bled for the millions of lives lost on Sapphira 3. From what little he had seen, in the brief moments before they all paid the ultimate price… it was either Augustus and his clan, or Eric, Caliban, and his family that would have been obliterated, and Caliban didn’t for one second regret his young friend’s choice.
Of course, Caliban would never forgive himself for selling Eric out. His only solace was that his young friend somehow had the means to embrace an identity so perfect that even elite Bronze-tier Inquisitors had no idea that Eric and Ernest were one and the same… and, Caliban suspected, he was this Spite Bane as well. All of which hopefully meant that Eric would be safe, so long as he never embraced either of those other identities ever again.
***
The Inquisitors shared a knowing smile as the pair of shaken elves saw themselves out.
“Do you think they’re truly stupid enough to lead us to our mark?” queried the one presently sealing away the goblin remains.
The second thoughtfully shook his head between sips of lukewarm coffee. “Caliban isn’t that much of a fool, though the workmate he’s foolish enough to sleep with could be broken with just a bit more… pressure.”
His partner furrowed his brow, slowly shaking his head. “Unnecessary. Caerulus understands the rules of this engagement. The documents are signed. The Augustine clan will be remembered with honor, and Sapphira 3’s restoration efforts will proceed apace. The hatred between elves and goblins runs deep indeed. That we now have sufficient pretext to completely purge their remaining moon works to Blue Faction’s advantage, so I doubt we’ll have any protest from his clan there. And what loyalty he might have had to foolish native Contenders who fail to understand their place has folded just as it should before his emperor’s hand.”
Nazem nodded, before glaring down at his coffee. “And now we have at least one Contender we need to bring down. Preferably discretely. What leads do we have?”
His partner scowled at the now hermetically sealed floating corpse. “Before this trash surrendered completely, he made it clear that the one we sought had fled into New Arcadia.”
Nazem flashed a cold smile, cracking his knuckles. “Excellent. We’ll track down our pray and wrap this up before the week is out.”
This earned a frown. “If this Ernest is no fool, he’ll demand legal representation by a neutral faction and give a full account. The right lawyer could easily argue that each of his kills was technically permissible under imperial dueling protocols. What's more, we have absolutely nothing to tie him to the hyperion core itself.”
Nazem smirked as he checked the wicked looking blade and blaster on his holster before sealing up his plasma-proof jacket. “True. Which is why it will be quite fitting for him to accept our challenge. He will fall before us, and his death will be both legal and utterly unremarkable in this time and place. As far as the imperial records will show…”
“He resisted arrest and paid the ultimate price.”
The pair chuckled coldly before Nazem tossed aside the offensive coffee cup. “Foul tasting crap they brew here. At least we have what we need. Did you make sure our pet tracked down and destroyed any backup copies?”
“Of course. But let’s fuel up before we finish cleaning up Augustine’s mess.”
Nazem raised his brow as they walked to the exit, earning a smile from his companion.
“It just so happens that there’s a great little burger and ice cream shop nearby. Come on, my treat.”
