Ch5-6: Seed of Mutiny
“Listen up,” the incessant tapping of Pren’s boot heel accented her sharp command. “We’re now heading into the second phase of the plan.”
You call being holed up in this wasteland part of a ‘plan’? Where’s the deceit and manipulation? That’s my line of work.
Kip leaned one shoulder against the cold stone of the shattered wall, which might have been part of the outer defenses of the fortress of Troia once before. Now it lay strewn and scattered where the ground had cracked and shifted, leaving a deep gully of destruction through the center of the city. The darkening sky above seemed to reflect upon the gloomy aftermath of the once-great human establishment.
Bleh. Why couldn’t you have chosen somewhere a little more scenic?
On the other side of the ruined clearing, Joran leaned quietly upon a flat stretch of stone. Her arms were wrapped with a hug around her chest, as if she was trying to fend off cold. Or fear. Or both. The moment the Lunar girl stepped within the presence of Pren, any openness that Kip had won from her had vanished.
No doubt, bad relations going on there.
Kip met Pren for the first time a few days earlier. And instantly, she had annoyed him. It had to do with her overbearing haughtiness. In the way she looked down her nose at both himself and Joran. It lost her all respect in his eye.
So far, this ‘plan’ has been way beneath my qualifications. If it wasn’t for the fact that Golbez is involved, I would have bailed already.
Pren seemed to have elected herself the undisputed leader of the operation. And no real details of the big picture had been shared with him.
As if I was nothing more than some hireling to be dismissed.
O.M.E.G.A. crossed his arms with a disinterested frown. Something he knew infuriated Pren. It was in the furrow of her brow.
Well, she’s about to get a real big surprise… and I do love surprising people.
“The Dracolich was only halfway successful,” Pren continued. She fixed first Joran, then Kip, with a sharp glance. “It did bring the ship down. However, the troops were unable to capture any of our targets.”
Joran’s face was pale. “Golbez… he’s still alive?”
“Of course he’s alive,” Kip gave a quick quip. “The whole blasted ship could probably fall on his head and he’d walk away with merely a scratch.”
Joran gave him a startled stare.
He offered her a sly grin.
Pren’s frown penetrated the exchange, “You seem so sure of the Half-Blood’s abilities?”
“And you seem to underestimate them,” O.M.E.G.A. grinned more, pale light gleaming from the whites of his teeth. “Which is why your planning has failed. And will continue to fail… unless you adjust your tactics.”
“Silence,” the Daear grated. “If I wanted input from a Defective, which I do not, I would have ordered it.”
Defective?!
Kip’s single eye narrowed at Pren, glittering a colder shade of green.
You’ve just sealed yourself a done-deal, Pren-dear.
O.M.E.G.A. simply leaned back in silence. Not a flicker of betrayal crossed his face. But the thoughts churned in tightening circles within his mind.
It’s all about timing and detail… Something you obviously have no feel for.
Joran’s eyes were upon him, seeming to sense his growing irritation at the Daear. Or maybe she was looking at him with a hint of sympathy? After all, the Lunar girl was often the victim of Pren’s sharp tongue. She seemed sensitive to such things.
Let’s see…
O.M.E.G.A. twisted his face into a pitiful, wounded frown — despite the fact he could care less what the Daear really thought about him. Instantly, Joran’s face registered what became clearly concern and pity for him.
Hmmm…?
Catching Joran’s gaze with his single shadowy eye, Kip returned her expression with a look of fake gratefulness. Much to his surprise, the girl’s countenance grew even softer towards him than before.
Ten points for O.M.E.G.A. I really am racking them up today.
All of this was lost upon Pren, who was engrossed in her methodic pacing. Kip didn’t know much about the Daear as a group of people. But what he could see in their leader stated plainly that they had very little consideration for the whims of emotion.
That’s where you lose… and I win. Soon enough… the girl will be under my sway. And Incrytan will be so far out of your reach that you’ll only be able to wonder how it happened.
“I have reports that the Half-Elf mercenary has been meddling again,” Pren’s voice was dark, seeped with disapproval. “He has managed to ward off the ground troops and lead our targets away from the crash site.”
Interesting…
Seconding Kip’s thoughts, Joran was now leaning forward. No doubt, to find any information she could about the whereabouts of her lost love.
“Chances are that the group will be taken to the Troian refugee camp at the west end of the forest,” the Daear continued. “If that is the case, we must ready ourselves for a breaching of the fortress. The Paladin King will likely gather what forces he can from the refugees and attempt to reclaim the city.”
“Refugee camp? So…” Kip oozed a self-amused look. “Some of the humans survived your assault on Troia?”
Pren pursed her lips, “That is correct.”
“Sloppy work, Pren-dear. I’d have expected better out of you.” A slight smirk. That’s all it would take.
“Do not call me ‘dear’.” Pren’s hand whipped around, finger leveled in fierce warning at his face. Teeth bared, her eyes flashed in smoldering fury. “Next time, I’ll cut your insolent tongue from your wretched mouth.”
Joran caught her breath, a look of terror blanching her smooth face.
Calm and collected, Kip gave the finger a quiet glance. “Whatever you say…”
Pren turned her back to him. Dismissal. Or so she thought.
“…Pren-dear…” O.M.E.G.A.’s voice followed her, an edge of power etched into the phrase. A voice that resounded through the mind, leaving no room for anything else. A voice that thrust two joined words at the Daear’s back like a knife.
Caught within the folds of Athrylith power, the Daear leader froze. Her face shown with a fleeting moment of panic as she fought to regain her composure.
Yes. Voice… and voice alone can do that.
Joran’s eyes were round, flicking from the alarm on Pren’s face to the calm composure on Kip’s. It was obvious that the Lunar had never seen the Daear lacking a second’s worth of self-confidence.
You don’t know the beginning of my power, Pren-dear. But you’ll learn quickly enough.
With merely a thought, O.M.E.G.A. released the tension in the room.
Perhaps now, you will think twice before you throw threats at me… especially ones that you cannot back up.
When Pren faced him, it was accompanied by an intense, searching look. Straight into his face.
I have to admit… you’ve got some guts.
“Joran,” the Daear turned on the Lunar girl, still fighting for composure and lost ground. Pren seemed suddenly disinclined to aim her commands at the grin of the O.M.E.G.A. “You two will ready our prisoner to be moved from Troia to Newidmynydd. We will be transporting her first thing in the morning. Is that understood?”
“Y-yes…” The Lunar girl opened her mouth, head bobbing slightly in compliance. Then her gaze drifted past the Daear’s shoulder, up to Kip.
Guts… that I plan to spill all over the place… sometime in the near future.
He was making mocking faces at Pren’s back.
But, not just yet. You’re still useful to me.
Joran’s eyes bugged out as they focused on Kip’s disrespect, mouth clamping shut with a puff of her cheeks. There was a sudden strain as the girl fought to keep from laughing out loud. It seemed to be the first time that she had almost laughed in a long, long time.
You see, Pren-dear, you’re the perfect playing piece. Your coldness gives Joran a reason to want to come to me.
The Daear turned on her heel sharply, only to find a solid, smug expression on Kip’s face.
You’re practically gift-wrapping Incrytan for me.
Joran put a hand over her mouth, looking down at her feet. Her face was red with suppressed laughter. The kind of laughter that comes when stress is so heavy that the slightest thing can tip a person off into gales.
“Oh, and one more thing, Pren-dear,” a hint of satisfaction played on his lips, “How come one mere Half-Elf can turn away two dozen of your ground troops with only a handful of wards?”
A snort of disgust flared Pren’s nose. She barked only one command as she began to fast-walk towards the door, “See that the prisoner is ready by dawn.”
And then he was alone with Joran once more.
The Lunar girl’s eyes were fixed on Kip, a muddle of uncertainty and amazement. When she finally did speak, it came as one breathy word, “Wow!”
“What’s that?” O.M.E.G.A.’s voice was laced with fake modesty.
“I can’t believe you faced Pren like that!” Joran shook her head.
“Why not? She annoys me,” Kip fixed her under his one-eyed gaze. “Doesn’t she annoy you?”
“Well…” the girl squirmed a little.
He could see that Joran was not exactly sure of what had taken place between himself and the Daear. Mind magics were often hard to pinpoint by non- Athrylith. But she could sense enough to know it had been a type of magic beyond her scope.
“Or do you like to let her order you around?” he nudged. A small nudge. But enough to get the ball rolling.
“I don’t let her order me around!” Joran’s face grew flushed.
“Then what do you call it?” O.M.E.G.A. tilted his head.
“I’m… just working with Pren… because Sparrow said it was the best thing to do…”
“Ah, so you let Sparrow order you around?”
“Uh!?” she looked frustrated.
So he backed off a little, “Now, now… who is this Sparrow person to tell you what is the best thing to do anyhow?”
“I’m not sure… but she does seem to know things. She was the one that told me about Incrytan and the danger that Golbez was in. She told me to come to the Blue Planet… and when I got here, she said that the Daear would be willing to help…” the girl frowned slowly.
This Sparrow person… seems to know how to play the cards. I wonder who she is.
“Help wipe out the humans, you mean,” he stated firmly.
Joran took in a sharp breath.
“Face it… Pren and her party have a grudge. It’s way too obvious to miss,” O.M.E.G.A. gave her a solemn look. “They hate the humans. They hate the Lunars. They’re only in this to get a lot of people hurt. You can see that’s happening already.”
“Yes…” Joran’s voice quavered.
“And it’s going to keep happening until you do something about it.”
“Me? How?” she squinted. “I don’t understand?”
“Joran…” a soft Athrylith-purr rose in his voice, “You’re the one that controls Incrytan. Don’t you see? This is all in your hands.”
Her eyes widened as the words gripped her senses. So easily, she began to sway. “Maybe…”
“They can’t do anything without you.”
“Well…” she still sounded uncertain. But the seed of mutiny had been planted. “Where would I go? I don’t know anything about the Blue Planet.”
“But, I do,” Kip told her with an easy grin.
“You do?” surprise leapt into Joran’s voice.
“Of course I do,” he assured her. “I spent a good bit of time here on the Blue Planet before I got mixed up in Zot.”
“Oh…?” Thoughts flickered behind her eyes. Sizing the situation up. Mulling over things.
Easy does it…
When she spoke again, it was testing the waters, “But aren’t you under Pren’s command?”
“I already told you,” his mouth became a firm line, “I take commands from no one.”
Her mouth shut closed with a click.
“But I also told you that I would help you,” his voice took on a warm, soothing tone. “And a promise is a promise.”
“Then…” the girl’s face peered up at the O.M.E.G.A., looking hopeful. “If I left, would you come with me?”
A surge of victory rushed through his body. He had to fight to keep the expression off his face. “Of course I would, Joran.”
You know you’re good when you’ve got them practically begging to do what you want them to do…
Relief washed over Joran’s face. Relief mingled with happiness.
But O.M.E.G.A. had already sealed his heart away from such things. His voice was level as he reached out and put his hand on her shoulder, leading her to a quiet place for discussion, “Let us talk about… a real plan.”