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Spectacular Tales III, Page 2

The Indie Collaboration


  *****

  One Year Later

  "He slashed his bonds Sir Fel."

  "And the gunnery?"

  "Dead Sir -all dead. They say he tore their heads off."

  As the figures speak, Ufburk listens with rapt fascination. His bulk is concealed nicely behind a stack of barrels. Slick blood coats his meaty fists, and this crimson blur rises to his elbows. The spacedock is quiet, but the once-barbarian knows there are others.

  "Dead? All of them? Nonsense, tell me how many of my men remain alive."

  Ufburk grins as he sees the guard's expression, why the poor man is as pale as a sheep's arse.

  "None sir, none."

  Sir Fel frees his weapon from its harness.

  "Well then, you are relieved of your duty soldier."

  Seizing the soldier, Fel hoists the soldier with one arm, while using a three-bladed weapon to eviscerate the armoured man in a single motion. Even as the sound of the soldier's lifeless body rings down the hallway Fel starts speaking:

  "Ufburk, Son of Tiber? Is that you? Well, I tell you, trembling in the shadow does nothing for that menacing reputation you have. You know, on one world they fancy you a Prince? I think that's an impractical assessment, after all, your father is only a clansman, nothing more. Wouldn't you agree on that point rogue?"

  Fel's eyes glint at the sound of Ufburk's voice:

  "Surely you are not so unimaginative as to allude that you will leave this moon alive, eh Fel?"

  The adventurer sees the apparent animosity on Fel's face as that man's worry, not his. For one to go to their grave and have their gods receive them, one must be honest.

  A tense silence hangs on, and it is Ufburk who speaks again. Fel is more interested in our adventurer's space blaster than he hears what the once-barbarian is saying.

  "And I crossed the Neppul Lifts to get this far. I know you Scroungers make your trade by selling slaves and tech to the Scala. So as I see it, you are my prisoner."

  "Yet you are alone."

  A chill reaches Ufburk at Fel's remark, and the lines set on the Godly Commander's face turn scarier than moments ago.

  "Ha! Dear Prince Ufburk, you are a buffoon. How are you so sure you'll defeat me?"

  A searing red beam launches from the end of Ufburk's blaster, his response to Fel's taunting. The beam flies true to its mark, but Fel raises his gauntlet, carved with a decorative pattern that looks suspiciously like glyphs and as if waving goodbye, wipes the laser beam from the air, erasing it indefinitely.

  "By all means, try and try again. As long as I wear Antar's Brace, you will encounter ill luck."

  "Then shut your yapper and face me."

  Fel, clad in dark-plated armour laughs.

  "Fair enough young Ufburk, but know that when I've ended you, I will fetch my squads and destroy your father. Your entire tribe will die, and you are doomed."

  "Then we are a pair," says Ufburk.

  Lord Fel, a Scrounger King as his race, the Ferrucca calls him springs to action, his red hair tied back tightly against the base of his skull making his jutting face severe in the brightly lit hangar.

  Ufburk's axe slams into Fel's sinister weapon, and Fel moans at the force of the blow, though he parries it with relative ease. Traipsing the chamber in an ostentatious display of wills, the two battle one another -evenly matched. But as the fight wears on, Ufburk knows that his adversary is toying with him, and he knows that killing Fel is nigh near impossible. As Fel swings, Ufburk lets the blow by and dashes away, reeling around and firing his laser into his adversaries' back. Fel is untouched by the fiery barrage, causing a small moan to escape Ufburk's lips. Now the once-barbarian is revolving and running full speed toward his vessel.

  "Fool! I have locked your ship to the bay! You cannot get free, do you hear me? I will hunt your family down, and kill them all. Do you hear me?"

  But Ufburk doesn't hear; he is running for another purpose.

  Fel is close behind him, Ufburk knows, the Commander is thinking the once-barbarian fears him. Ufburk bolts down the corridor leading to the centre-most quadrant of Fel's moonbase. The big man scans the long hall; Ufburk does not know what he is looking for, only what he must do.

  "There is nowhere to run -Ufburk! You die today! There'll be no more running. Stop now!"

  Above him and before him the stone ceiling crumbles closing the route ahead, and Ufburk skids to a halt, spinning to greet Fel's offensive weapon.

  A mad thrumming rushes to Ufburk's ears, dark, agitated, and altogether alive. Fel is laughing.

  "Do you remember Steele? That asteroid belt holds many secrets, hides incredible power. I have gained much. I'd tell you to visit me there someday, but you will not have the chance. Therefore, I must bid farewell to you young Prince, who shall be dead before his crowning. I am sure this beast will please your more wild side just fine. He is a beautiful specimen handpicked. A creature of distinction that is under my spell and wants only to free himself of me, which means you die. I don't re-imagine my bargains Ufburk; a deal is a deal. By dying, you'll give another soul a hand. Go ahead now -get to it, it is a splendid day to die, and I am on my way. So much time was wasted on you Ufburk, Son of Tiber."

  Though the once-barbarian hears Fel's rant, he grants it little of his concern, for before him, rising from the stony rubble is a thing that should not be. It is a dirty thing, marked with sorrow, shame, and outright rage. A broken horn protrudes from its jutting jaw; the horn is spiny and stained black where the ivory turns deadly and transforms to a thin edge. A full mouth, lined with sharp incisors grins below Fel's creature's red-slatted eyes.

  "Ugly. Undeniably hideous. I see now how Fel coerced you. But you must know that you are acting deranged. Go now; I don't wish to kill you, Merrigan."

  Though Fel has left the scene, Ufburk is unable to focus on naught else but the creature before him.

  The thing rises on its hind legs, towering above Ufburk. He does not flinch, or act afraid, and the Merrigan Beast knows the once-barbarian is unaffected and wonders at Ufburk's composure.

  "Do not challenge me! And instead of dying just now, join my cause, and aid me in killing Fel. Do this, and I shall slay the Many-eyed Wizard and free you from his charge and the whims his minions -all of them, not just Commander Fel."

  "You would," the Merrigan's stiff neck shudders as it plainly strains itself speaking, but the huge creature carries on, "Could you?"

  The beast studies Ufburk carefully, and the creature lets the silence stretch between them, as he too is scrutinising the company he is keeping.

  "Aye, it would honour me to slay that bastard, and I shall kill him, for my betrothed."

  Ufburk's view of the hulking Merrigan, a type of beast best described as a cross between a rhino and bear with humanoid limbs increases as it leans towards him, bent on its haunches and looked the once-barbarian directly in the eye magnifies.

  They stay locked in that primal moment for too long according to either of their tastes, but Ufburk is never afraid because he has lost his sense of self-value, even if he somehow goes on.

  "I am Rydal, of Evan-More."

  "I am Ufburk, Son of Tiber, born worlds away."

  "Then we are allies, what actions should we take to defeat Commander Fel?"

  "Why we chase him of course, let us be underway. I fear he is swift."

  "Yet I am faster, and I do not boast. My god, Ginisa forbids such. I could carry you."

  "Agreed."

  And they streak with steady speed through the sleek hallway, with Ufburk riding on Rydal's heavily-muscled back as he races to catch the God of Deceit, Lord Fel.