“Can I try it?”
“Why?”
Verena and the intruder from the night were packing up her campsite.
“I’ve been working out on Serea, I think I can probably lift it now.”
She unsheathed her sword and held it out perpendicularly between them, then let it go into his outstretched hands. It immediately fell a few feet as the man struggled to keep it off the ground before it tilted, the tip piercing the dirt. Verena looked unsurprised as she took back her weapon.
“The gravity on Serea is still only a third of that on Edetan, and you were born here,” she said.
“Fust… I thought I could at least hold it this time.”
She clapped him roughly on the shoulder and his knee buckled slightly. “Not a chance.”
Rustling behind them drew their attention and they grew quiet. After a moment, a portly creature lumbered out from the shrubbery.
“Not much for meat - too gamey, but the hide could fetch something,” Verena observed in a hushed tone.
“Mind if I?” the man asked.
“Be my guest - I’ve been working all week.”
With a puff of wispy black smoke, he disappeared from Verena’s side and reappeared behind the animal, who remained unaware. A quick slice to the throat and a pool of blood began to form.
Verena walked over. “I assume I’ll be carrying this to town?” She didn’t wait for an answer before slinging the large carcass over her shoulder.
Verena nudged her companion forward as they walked out of the tanner. “Lunch is on you.”
He looked around the town. “Doubt we’ll find anything half as good as your breakfast here. We should’ve stayed in the forest or looked for a stream.”
“When’d you get so particular?”
“Since I left this planet and had some real food!”
“Is that all you’ve been up to?”
“Got to eat to live - might as well enjoy it.”
They continued down the street as a group a kids ran by. One bumped into Verena, rebounding back and falling to the ground. He shook his head, dazed, as she helped him up.
“Sorry, sir,” he muttered before staggering off.
Verena was seated at a table set outside a sparsely attended pub when her companion walked up with two plates, setting one down before her.
“Forager Stew is better than this,” he complained after taking a few bites. “Remember the meal we had out in the dunes? Scrounged from nothing, but at least you could taste something.”
She took a small pouch of spices from her pack and added a couple pinches to their food. “Better?”
“A little, but I should still tell the cook to boil the meat longer, it’s too tough.”
“Is she bringing the fleet?” Verena asked, changing the subject.
“Only the Guard, from the sound of it. The rest were hired out to assist the uprising in the Ophen sector.”
“Makes sense they’d oppose any revolution against tyranny.”
“Plus I heard it pays well… I spoke to a few old contacts when I arrived, but unfortunately Washend is more about smuggling in than out.”
“I could fake my death,” Verena suggested matter-of-factually.
“I don’t think it’ll work again.”
She shrugged.
“Even with only Almeza and the Guard, it’ll be difficult with just the two of us. We could hire mercenaries, but I doubt they’d make much of a dent against a dozen Edeti soldiers, even if they are off-world.” He stood. “Done?” he gestured to her plate and she waved for him to take it away.
Verena leaned against the wooden fence post circling the eating area, her sword leaning with her. She felt a bump at her elbow and she looked down to see a large snow fox nuzzling her arm.
“What are you doing here?” she asked Nanq.
“I was going to ask you the same.” Cahir strode up with an amused expression. “I thought you were going west?”
“V’s notoriously bad an directions,” her companion explained as he walked back from speaking with the pub’s owner. “Who’s this?” he asked Verena.
“The Death Stalker,” she replied and Cahir grimaced slightly.
“Oh! I’ve heard of you! You know each other?” Verena nodded in response to his question. “Then why didn’t you list him among our assets in the first place?”
“You can call me Cahir.” He offered his hand.
“You can call me Dark Shadow!”
“All shadows are dark, that’s why they’re shadows,” Verena remarked.
“Yeah, but I’m like, extra dark, since I’m an assassin and stuff,” he argued.
“You can call him Izal,” Verena insisted. “Or something worse, when he gets on your nerves.”
“What’s this about assets?” Cahir asked.
“Ah, yes, V here is in need of assistance. You’re Cellen, aren’t you? How many Edetis do you think you can take on by yourself?”
“I’ve never had the pleasure or misfortune of fighting one before.”
Izal’s eyes lit up. “Let’s have a sparring match!”
Verena looked down at him. “You don’t think he’s got anything better to do?”
“I don’t,” Cahir shrugged. “Seems like you already cleaned up the anomalies around here, and I’d love the chance to see the Silver Slayer in action again.” He picked up her sword and handed it to her.
Verena smirked. “Alright then, let’s see what a Cellen can do in a fight.”
“Okay, let’s keep things clean! It’s a simple spar after all,” Izal reminded the two opponents, who stood in readied stances with their respective weapons.
Verena and Cahir sized each other up for a moment. He was only slightly taller, and she was only slightly leaner. After a few playful fake-outs from both sides, swords clashed and the fight began.
Cahir gained the upper-hand with brute force by taking an aggressive offensive approach, however Verena quickly evened the playing field with her agility. After several rounds of strikes and blocks from both sides, they appeared nearly matched in skill and strength, however it was soon evident that Cahir was tiring faster than his partner, having to use more force behind each blow to keep up.
The competition dragged on until Verena managed to land a well-timed elbow to the ribs and Cahir lost his sure footing.
“I yield,” he said from the ground with a smile and she helped him to his feet.
Verena and Cahir slumped down on a low bench, taking heavy breaths before re-hydrating.
“That was excellent!” Izal declared. “I reckon you can take on 3-5 Edetis.”
Cahir looked skeptically up at him. “Were you watching? I’m pretty sure I just lost to one.”
Izal waved his hand dismissively. “V’s a hybrid at full strength. Almeza and the Guard will have been off-world for at least two full cycles to get here, which means they’re already starting to feel the effects of low gravity. Their ships help some, but even they can only replicate about 60% of what they’d feel back home.”
“If hybridization stabilizes the loss of muscle mass in lower gravity environments, then why is it illegal?” Cahir asked.
“Not all hybridization results in the same way, and the culture on Edetan is heavily invested in the idea of genetic purity. Any dilution of the race is seen as a step towards extinction,” Verena explained.
“And that’s why they’re after you?”
She shrugged. “The General is taking it personally. She trained me herself, before she found out who I was. She feels betrayed.”
“What’s the punishment?” Cahir asked.
“Purification.”
“Is that a fancy way of saying death?”
“Sure is,” Izal chimed in. “No mercy is literally their rally cry. Ironic, considering they’re all mercenaries.”
Verena groaned.
Cahir stood and offer her his hand. “I’ll help.”
“It’ll be a tough fight you have no stake in,” Verena warned.
“To lose a slayer of your caliber would be a waste. I won’t stand idly by.”
Izal clapped his hands together. “It’s settled then! V can teach us the best ways to combat the fighting style of Edetan, and we’ll do our best not to die when they come to kill us.”
Verena rolled her eyes, but shook Cahir’s hand.
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