Chapter 7: Limitations

            Ginza arrived back at the barge at the appointed hour. She was leery of her general’s reaction to what she had to report. How would this new development be taken when it had never been anticipated? Would it jeopardize the whole mission? Or prove to be a small hurdle to the greater goal? She wouldn’t know unless Morgan had time to digest it. This time Ginza was the one who soul projected into Morgan’s holding cell. There was no fear in being detected by the Spryten alarms since it produced no particles or thermal reads.

            Once inside it was not hard to find her leader. However, upon seeing her general suspended from the hold ceiling her cackles rose slightly. Morgan had always teased her two commanding officers about their friendly rivalry of vying for her affections. It was no wonder since Ginz and Vollo shared the same taste in women. Unbeknownst to the general was just how deep Ginz’s love went for her. Morgan had always made it clear that her preference was more for the gents than the ladies, but she never chastised too harshly Ginz for her little flirtations. She simply played along and drew the lines where necessary.

“General,” she called out, concern rimming her voice. “Are you alright?”

Morgan’s eyes flashed open to look at her second in command. “I’m fine,” she assured her then teased, “Get that puppy dog concern out of your eye, soldier. What’ve you learned?”

Reigning in her concern, she immediately went into her report. “It seems the base has some distressing news for us that may make this recon a bit difficult. Sources on the inside say that the Sprytens are developing a technology that could combat our powers. It seems their strategists have had suspicions surrounding our ‘special abilities’, but have had no proof until recently. Unfortunately, with each battle, their scientists have been dissecting the bodies of our dead soldiers to breakdown our anatomy to see what they could learn. It is believed they have discovered the coding that gives us the kinetic energy, but not enough to harness in themselves. The best they have been able to do is figure out how to combat it. They’re doing this by capturing civilian Messians – some as young as infants – and testing some of this new technology on them. The source reports there may be a slave colony of Messians located just south of the main palace.”

“Fucking bastards,” Morgan swore coldly thinking of the children. “Did the source say what the technology is or its effect on us?”

“Only what we’ve experienced thus far,” Ginza elaborated. “The jolts, the unconscious states, etc. Oh, and a form of suspended animation that jams out our abilities to communicate to one another.”

Morgan grew pensive. It was not a total disaster. As much as she could gather, the Sprytens seemed to only employ these tactics on the battlefield and in their prison camps. When she had been alone in the hold she was capable of all her powers as was Ginza now. Somehow they needed to get in and destroy the technology or use a higher frequency of power to combat it, which would wipe out a good portion of their troop force. What didn’t make sense in all of this was that Cenzo did not seem aware of any new technology. He had been just as surprised by the neuro wave as she was when they had met on the battlefield early that morn. She put that thought aside for later and recalled her other concern.

“Did they have a read on our soldiers?” she asked.

Ginz winced at the question she knew was coming, “They can’t get a read either. Kevlar is doing his best to break the coding on the neuro-scramblers, but he says it may take hours, a full day even.”

“Tell him to work on it,” she ordered. “Get word to the inside source that I’ll need an audience as soon as I land.”

“Won’t that be risky?” Ginz demanded. “You’re asking the source to reveal themselves to you.”

“The station they hold allows access to prisoners,” Morgan assured her. “Don’t fret.”

Ginz nodded assured. The concern popped back into her eyes again as she studied her leader. “Do you need anything? Weapons? Food? A shirt?” she joked, hoping to lighten the situation.

“You know the last is not necessary,” Morgan grinned.

“How many times were you asked that one?” she asked.

“Let’s see, damn near every soldier,” the general guffawed. “You swear they had never seen a pair of breast in their lives. I’ve never been so visually raped in my life. I wonder how they would react to know most of our soldiers (men and woman, alike) train sans tops in the oppressive summer heat.”

“Probably leave their posts and join up with us,” Ginz joked.

“Ha, that’s until they come across your kind,” she teased.

“What you mean, my kind,” she pouted, taking the bait and knowing exactly what she meant.

“The kind that licks carpet not poles,” Morgan threw back unabashedly.

“Unh-unh, I likes’em bare,” she corrected. “You know that.”

Morgan rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Look, it may not be safe for you to be caught on the barge. They may have figured out a trace on soul projection. We can’t be too careful. Go ahead to the palace and see if you can find any potential escape routes as well as the layout: number guards, number of weapons, alarms etc.”

“On it,” Ginz confirmed, seeping away. “Be strong, general. I’m sure Vollo and the others are safe.”

“We could only pray,” Morgan agreed, not convinced; her thoughts traveling to her missing troops.

At that moment, the ten remaining Imperial Elite hung in suspended animation within the bowels of the barge. Vollo was trapped in his head trying desperately to free himself. He had been trying to dissect the technology that held him locked in place. The animation offered little movement, which proved difficult in his efforts. If one were to push the limits of the bonds they were immediately treated to a punishing jolt. He had witnessed with helpless terror as Shogun, the strongest of the men, shock himself unconscious trying to break his ties. This was in response to one of the Spryten soldiers’ discovery of a female body among their ranks.

The scene still sickened him as he and the rest of the crew were forced to watch the soldiers tear into Delta, one of the Elite’s top soldiers, like a pack of ravenous wolves to a wounded sheep. Her uniform had been disrespectfully torn in strategic places, bearing only her small breasts, pert derriere and lower midsection. With help from the neuro-holder, which kept her still and pliant, as many as three Spryten soldiers had their violent way with her. One force fed her his rather pathetic cock, while the others had taken on the other orifices with twisted delight; thrusting and pumping into her without restraint or care.

Fists had rained down on Delta’s beautiful face and body with menacing forces, leaving marks and bruises in their wake. It had been easy for them to identify her feminine curves from the line up. As a soldier, she was built like the stealthiest ninja warrior, with toned muscles and lithe legs, which were, now, contorted to convenience the Spryten rapists as they pummeled her; laughing as they did. Her nose appeared to be a running faucet of blood and mucus. Her eyes were open, but blackened by their repeated punches. Her once bowed lips were swollen to twice their size and twisted harshly out of shape, covered in a nauseating drool of bodily juices.

Vollo had lost track of all semblance of time and space. The stench of fresh semen muddled with bloody tears coming from Delta choked his burning throat. Once that group had had their fill of her, another set of three took their place, repeating the torture. By now, Delta could not even be conscious to this onslaught. Fucking monsters! As the carnage ensued, his gaze had fallen to Ava, who sat diagonal to him. She had yet to be discovered, but the fear in her eyes was palpable. She knew it was only a matter of time before these beasts did the same to her. She had been spared for the moment, because her great build made her ambiguous to the Sprytens, but as soon as they searched her…

Vollo gained her attention and with his eyes, willing her to look away from the sight. Only Shogun’s grunts and growls of dissatisfaction and pain could be heard as he tried desperately to save Delta, in vain. Since their discovery of Delta, he had tried to break his bonds. Vollo had known it was pointless to try, but the large man was willing to risk his life in his attempt. Shogun was a seven foot monster of the battlefield. Fully armed Sprytens cowered in fear when they’d seen him barreling down on them. His long unkempt dreadlocks, which surrounded his crown like a lion’s mane, hung back like a mantle, covering his bulging and ripped muscles. His large thighs and calves tore up the ground like a tractor in full till. He was an even more impressive sight when he sported his large, electrified axe that hacked and cleaved flesh from bone in one swing.

Despite his nightmarish visage, he was the gentlest among them. His main concern was always for the welfare of his fellow soldiers. He was the first to charge into battle and the last to leave the field. A commendable trait, but one that was doing them no good use now. He merely rattled and shook in his bonds taking each shock as it came. It was sad and disheartening to watch. Vollo understood his friend’s desire to help, but knew their current limitations. Their bonds only allowed their eyes to move and despite looking away from the scene, the soldiers’ lascivious comments crammed into his ear like hungry leeches.

“Whoa, this one’s got quite a mouth. Look how much she can take.”

“This ass is pretty nice, too. So tight.”

“Oh yeah, we need to keep this one for a bit.”

Hold on, Delta, Vollo said more for himself then her since he was unsure she could hear his assurances. As soon as we can, we will wipe the face of the earth with them. I promise.

It was a hollow promise since he wasn’t sure what lay before them at their final destination. If this was what would happen on the barge, what lay waiting for them in the palace dungeons? Vollo feared only the worse. His one hope lay with his general – wherever she was.

Chapter 6: Interrogations

            Morgan hung from the ceiling trapped within her thoughts. The soldiers had enjoyed themselves immensely as they had pinched and rough-handled her body searching for anymore of her precious gadgets. She could swear her ass was as red and blistered as a Palladin slave’s. As she hung motionless in the dark hold, she tried to contact her men. Each time she tried to connect to one of them a tiny jolt would bounce through her. Damn, that stings! What is that? she pondered. There could only be two things that explained this interference: the Sprytens were using a neuro-scrambler to block transmissions or, Cenzo’s chore boy, Aries, lied and her crew was dead, leaving her to go this mission alone. After an hour or so of trying, she switched her tactics and began scanning for Nginza, who was no doubt trailing somewhere in the woods.

Ginza, she called out. Ginza!

Silence greeted her. Not a very reassuring sign.

She opened her eyes to peer blankly into the ebon of the hold. Another moment passed before her eyes began to glow with a fierce molten light. Her breathing deepened as if she were reaching for an eternal sleep, but staying ever-conscious. She focused her mind on the extremities of the barge, as if she wanted to bore a large hole into it. Soon, Morgan could feel her soul detach from her body and seep through the walls of the barge, making out the darkened outline of the forest.

It was a trick that only the Imperial Elite were capable doing. The celestial movement required complete focus of one’s being to be able to project their soul’s image as well as maintain conscious thought. For Morgan, she could do it in her sleep, having inherited her mother’s power and training. It pained her to remember the long and grueling hours suffered trying to flawlessly achieve the trick and many others, for that matter. Blaze McGuiness, her dutiful taskmaster, had nearly gotten her stuck between the realms on many occasions, but she had mastered the celestial move so well she would never fall between them ever.

As her soul body fully emerged from the barge side, she peered deep into the woods to see if she could make out a trace signature from Ginza. A brief blip caught her attention and she was immediately drawn to it. She returned the blip with her own – another trick involving harnessing ones life-energy to project one’s aura light. Soon, she noted quick skulking movements dashing through the trees. With the stealth of the slickest snake, Ginza sidled up to the barge; careful to avoid the sides, just in case, it had been alarmed.

Bout time you showed yourself, Morgan scolded.

Sorry, there’re too many barges to track, she explained. What have we learned?

They’re taking me and the men to the palace, Morgan explained. I had a run in with an old friend.

Ah, Werner came to exact his vengeance, I take it, Ginza confirmed.

Stupid bastard assumed that he could get his rocks off by using his brother’s death as a cry for revenge, Morgan chuckled then issued her true concern, Do you know anything about the others?

I tried getting a signal and nothing, she replied with a tinge of her own concern. Kept getting fuckin’ jolted every time.

Same here, Morgan confirmed. See what info the base has and meet back here within the hour for a report.

You got it, Ginza said, examining the hull for any alarm trips then placing a tracker just under it. Morgan watched as she returned to the cover of the forest. She glanced about and could make out nothing in the vast overgrowth. This was definitely Spryten country – all jungle, right down to the hanging vines. Unlike the Messian territory, with its bright lights and paved streets, the Spryten land was one of the last places on Earth to have rich vegetation. However, this was a land stolen from the people, so it truly didn’t belong to the Sprytens solely. Ancient Messians were run out of the land long ago and was one of the many reasons to two Empires fought now.

Morgan was seeping back into her body, when she sensed she wasn’t alone. The hold door had opened to reveal a large frame. One she was beginning to recognize more and more. Cenzo stood still in the frame of the hold as if he was torn between drawing nearer or retreating. Morgan decided to play possum to see what the Spryten had a mind to do. She couldn’t get a sense of what his business was, but confusion surrounded his thoughts.

Cenzo approached her slowly. Standing before Morgan’s body, he studied her intently as he had done before. After their last encounter, he had gone back to his quarters to go over reports from the battle and the prisoner stats, but he was hard-pressed to concentrate on them. His mind kept wondering back to Morgan and that damn kiss. He could still taste her, which vexed him sorely. Logically, he knew she was a prisoner, but for split seconds at a time he kept wishing she wasn’t. This was too strong an attraction to have for someone he just met not twelve hours ago.

He examined her from head to toe for any bruising from the fight. To his surprise, he found not one. Odd. He recalled getting in a few solid jabs on her that should’ve left something, but her skin showed nothing. She was still topless – a fact that he was sure his soldiers must’ve enjoyed when they searched her for more weapons. A thought that still did not sit well with him, their hands searching this taut frame, instead of him, sent a wave of possession down his spine that stiffened his core. He chastised himself for the very thought with a heavy sigh.

Morgan appeared to be in the most peaceful slumber, but she had deceived him the once before. Her eyes were closed and her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm befitting the waves of the sleep, but that could all be a ruse. He drew closer to her, hoping to test the theory. He lifted his lengthy fingers and nestled them just under one of her ample breasts, gently lifting it. It was firm to the touch, yet soft and supple. He could just make out the muscle beneath it. He carefully splayed his fingers over the breast taking in the fullness with the span of his large hand. He was tempted to squeeze it, but he had already violated the capture boundaries by merely touching her in this manner. When no immediate reaction came, he sighed again to himself, withdrawing his hand reluctantly from her.

“Couldn’t resist could you?” Morgan purred.

Cenzo’s eyes flashed up at hers in brief surprise then just as quickly recovered. “So, you are awake.”

“Kind of hard not to be when someone’s fondling you,” she replied staring deep into his eyes pointedly.

“I apologize for that,” he said, chastising himself for his politeness toward this enemy. “Your new identity takes a lot to…”

Morgan smirked, “Handle?”

Cenzo glared at her, flustered. “I guess you could say that.”

An awkward silence fell between them.

“So, what brings the general to check on the prisoner this time of night?” she asked.

“I was writing up reports when I realized we have not had a proper interrogation,” he replied, thankful for the distraction.

“A proper interrogation?” Morgan repeated. “If it’s anything like the search you had your men do, I’d like to pass.”

It was Cenzo’s turn to smirk. “I can assure you it will not be that… thorough.”

Morgan shrugged as much as she could hanging from a ceiling and waited for the first barrage of questions. She watched as Cenzo walked over to the table to take the seat there. He propped his feet up and rested his hands behind his head.

“I notice your shirt has not been returned to you,” he remarked. “I’ll have the men get on that right away.”

“Does it bother you that I’m topless?” she threw at him.

Cenzo stared at her and grinned, “Not in the least. I just assumed you were not comfortable.”

“You forget I’m not one of your Spryten whores who play the coy, modest role,” she replied. “A body is a body in our world, whether a man, woman or transgender. It’s all the same to us.”

“There’s something to be said about modesty,” Cenzo defended.

“And what’s that?” Morgan asked intrigued.

“The mystery is far more interesting than the reveal,” he said. “It makes the chase more sweeter.”

“I take it my reveal is no longer interesting,” she inquired.

“No, no, your reveal is still very interesting,” he assured her as he rose from the chair to approach. “It’s opened up another labyrinth of mysteries we would like to explore.”

“Such as?”

“How can such a woman lead a death squadron like the Blackstorm-12?” he drilled.

“Is that what you call us?” she guffawed. “Fates, how did you all come up with that?”

Cenzo was thrown back by her amusement. He actually had been more taken aback by her brilliant smile. Shining pearls laughed merrily at her personal musing over the Spryten code name for her troops.

“And what do you call yourselves?” he wondered.

“We don’t. The Council calls us the Imperial Elite,” she replied. “We are the right-hand guards to the royal family.”

“A little far from your duties, aren’t you?” he said, smugly.

“Not really,” she replied, shrugging. “You can say the Empress has sent us on a mission on her behest.”

“And just what is your mission?” he demanded, finding the chink he needed.

Morgan’s grin widened into a pearly smile. “Now, do you really expect me to make it that easy? I prefer to wait awhile before I reveal my nation’s secrets.”

Cenzo did not enjoy her sarcasm, but understood that he had taken for granted her willingness in this interrogation. He decided to dig a little more around the perimeter. “But you are heralded as the General of the Messian army,” he said turning away from her.

“I am,” she affirmed. “The Council looks to my guidance in terms of strategy, but I am in no way indispensable. Like you Sprytens, we have a council of generals we defer to on many parts of this war.”

“But you are the head,” he pressed.

“And the Empress is the neck and the brain,” she countered. “Where she moves, we go. Hers is the final decision.”

Cenzo chewed on that for a moment then he redirected the questions back to the mission. “Why were you and your men in Spryten territory?”

Morgan shrugged. “Can’t a group of friends, army buddies, go for an afternoon drive without making a battle of it?”

Cenzo found himself actually chuckling at her response, but sobered enough to counter, “Not when you’re the Blac- I mean – Imperial Elite.”

“Did we pose a threat? Did we fire on you first?”

Cenzo ran a hand through his dreadlocks. “You have been known to attack without much provocation. It had been assumed you were looking for a fight.”

“Funny how it happened that we were fired upon first, when we were merely driving through,” Morgan cornered.

“Yes, even funnier, how you were just driving through hostile territory?”

She shrugged casually. “What can I say? Shortcuts are a bitch sometime.”

They sat in silence for a moment. Cenzo was not satisfied with the answers he was getting and Morgan was growing increasingly bored with the conversation. Looking to provoke some excitement, her eyes glinted with mischief.

“Now, are those the questions you really wanted to ask?” she tempted. “Did nothing else pique your curiosity enough?”

Cenzo turned to look at her as if she had made an outrageous accusation. Despite his restlessness since the kiss and the exact reason for his being in the hold now, he was damned to let her know it had affected him enough to seek her out. He approached her slowly, placing his hands on her hips to draw her closer so they were eye to eye.

“And what should have piqued my curiosity?” he countered.

Morgan’s smirk deepened her stare dueling with his for dominance. “The same thing that piqued it in the hall. Tell me, does the taste still linger?”

Cenzo, having been provoked enough for one night, pushed her away, turned on his heels and left, but not before saying the last word, “Remember, general, your answers determine what happens to you. You said so yourself. I suggest you get to securing your safety the next time we meet.”

With that, the hold door clang shut and Morgan hung there, swinging gently with a chuckle. “I guess he didn’t want to play.”

Chapter 5: Snake’s Embrace

            Cenzo’s blood boiled as he trailed Morgan through the halls of the barge. Again, his enemy had outsmarted him; on his own turf, no less. The events that had transpired in the last minutes were beginning to make his head hurt. The doctor’s words began to haunt him like a nagging wife. He could use some painkillers right about now. The worse of his thoughts were his soldiers getting a view of Morgan’s half naked body scurrying from hall to hall. Damn, the woman had no shame about her nakedness, flaunted it with pride, in fact.

            He couldn’t help but admit to himself that her chiseled frame had sparked an instant attraction. He had never seen a woman’s body so taut. The indentation of her muscles framed fluidly over sturdy bones. As he watched her now round a corner, he noted the strong curve of her full buttocks and lithe shape of her legs. Legs he wouldn’t mind wrapping around his hips if the circumstances were different. He shook his head of his lusty thoughts and began to devise a plan on how to get the chicken back in her coup.

            He tapped his ear communicator to alert his troops, “All available soldiers on Level 5, I need a blockade of Section D. I repeat I need a lock down unit in Section D. Now!” he ordered, kicking up his pace.

“Lock down unit on its way, General,” a voice came over on the earlink.

Cenzo rounded the corner Morgan had just left and was hit by a hefty surprise; Morgan’s boot to be exact. Temporarily stunned, Cenzo bounded backwards clutching his jaw. When his eyes readjusted, there was no sign of Morgan.

“What the fuck?” he swore, rubbing his aching face.

Suddenly, he was kicked from behind, causing him to fall forward on the metal floor grids. He turned quickly to catch Morgan’s wrist before more damage could be done. With heavy force he slammed his other fist into her abdomen, sending the Messian general hurling back. She quickly recovered and bolted back from whence she came. Cenzo growled angrily at his stupid move and resumed his chase.

Tapping his earpiece angrily, he growled, “Damn it, I need this Section locked down. Where the hell are my men?!”

“We’ve initiated lock down sequences, sir,” the soldier responded. “A group of men are heading in your direction.”

“Well, this bitch is slippery,” he said, tracking Morgan. “I need a set of men to double the guards in the secondary hold. If I can keep her on this floor, the better it will be for all of us.”

“Yes, sir,” the soldier replied.

Cenzo was coming to another corner. Not one to be fooled twice, he slowed his pace enough to execute a drop roll. As predicted Morgan had issued another flying kick, only to hit air. Suddenly, she was tossed on her back, when Cenzo took hold of her leg and yanked it out from under her. She fell with a resounding thud on the metal grid. Cenzo quickly scrambled on top of Morgan, who was already trying to squirm out of his hold. His broad chest covered hers easily and his thick legs tangled hers up nicely. He was nose to nose with her and could smell the perspiration she had built up from their chase. It was heady and embracing.

Again, he was hit hard by his attraction for his nemesis. His body was reacting to the closeness and the heavy breathing. Her breasts were inadvertently rubbing his chest with a steady rhythm as she tried to catch her laboring breath. He stared at her parted lips as if looking into the eyes of a cobra. Lush but deadly. He wanted to taste them, mold them to his in a passionate kiss. Did she taste salty or sweet?

Morgan used his current state of distraction to soundly head-butt him from his daydreams. The move did nothing to dislodge him, but it did do enough to shake his current bout of lusty thoughts. He grabbed hold of her wrists and tightened the pressure on her legs with his own. He felt blood trickle down over his lip. Damnit, the little hellion made his nose bleed. What was her head made of? Granite?

“Will you just cut the shit for two seconds?” he growled.

“Ha! You forget who you’re dealing with,” Morgan spit back.

“Oh no, I know who I’m dealing with,” he reminded her. “Someone who’s in no position to be struggling if she wants to make it back to the palace in one piece.”

“How do I know you mean to keep me in one piece?” she threw back.

“A little something you said,” he said, staring her down. “I insure your safety, you insure my answers. Is that not what you said?”

A snaky grin formed on Morgan’s lips, as she confirmed her earlier words, “I did say that. Thought it would’ve been wiped out by that blast we took.”

“Oh, General, trust me, I have a lot of questions and they seem to be piling up by the minute,” Cenzo assured her, hauling her up from the floor as his men approached with trained guns on her. “I’m going to get my answers and then I’m going to get my revenge.”

“That’s if the answers don’t confirm my innocence,” she threw back.

Cenzo gave her a sideways glance, “Clearing you of one crime won’t clear you of your other crimes.”

“I think it will,” she alluded with an icy smile. “Catching me was like finding the key to Pandora’s Box. Are you sure you want to unlock its contents?”

“You know, I’ve had just about enough of your shit for one day,” Cenzo snarled, yanking her by the neck like a wayward child. “One more word out of you and all bets are off.”

Morgan met his gaze with a sultry one and without warning smashed her lips against his. He was completely thrown as he felt her lush tongue break through his lips and duel with his. His body recharged it awareness of hers. It was like a jolt right to his manhood. His earlier wonderings had been answered. She was sweet. Despite the sweat and the hardness, her lips tasted like sugar water. Before the charge she issued could fully arouse him, Morgan snapped away and uttered in his ear, “I believe I answered one of your quandaries. Did I taste good, General?”

With that, Cenzo hurled her coldly toward the approaching guards, ordering them to neuro-cuff her and throw away the key. He needed to restore his dignity after her final insult. He also ordered them to do a full body search and scan to insure no more escapes. As he watched them roughly haul her away, he had an overwhelming urge to drag her back to him and taste her some more. His body was still jolting from her lips and his tongue still felt tingles from her own. When she glanced back at him, Morgan air-kissed him wickedly as his men took her back to her coup.

Alone in the deserted hall, staring at the empty space she had occupied, Cenzo uttered to himself, “Yeah – you do.”

Chapter 4: The Crack of the Whip!

The hold door slid open to reveal a tall, courtly man in his late seventies. As he and the young boy entered, his wavy, salt and pepper hair barely moved under the swoosh of the closing doors. The long, pressed locks framed a thin and dark face with beady eyes peeking from beneath full brows. He was impeccably dressed all in black with a regal cape lined in dark silver. His son was dressed much like him, but his features held a sunnier disposition. His hair was the fairest blond, cut into a low faux-hawk. His blue eyes shone bright and innocent with an underlining ruthlessness, which now stared into Morgan, who boldly glared back.

“Vi-cenzo,” the willowy man greeted enthusiastically with the stiffest smile. His hands clapped together in his eagerness. “I have heard we have Morgan in captivity,” he announced merrily, his eyes dancing with joy.

Cenzo straightened up to his full height to stare down at the Royal, attempting to block his view of the prisoner. “We do,” he replied curtly. “What business is it of yours – Royal Werner?”

The man also straightened up; his smile fading quickly into the darkness of his face. “As well you know Morgan was responsible for the death of my brother, Siegmund, the first of the Heroic Seven to have died by that monster’s blade. Your father promised me first blood and I’ve come to collect.”

Cenzo snorted at the bloodlust in the man’s eyes. Werner was well known in the court for his love of sadistic ventures. He was the first to always demand a torturous act to be committed against a prisoner. Sometimes he would plead his father for a private showing. Word from the harmite was that he also enjoyed inflicting welts on innocents foolish enough to accept his invitations to his suite. One secondhand story from his sister told of a girl who had to have large pieces of her fabric cut from her skin because the wounds had healed around them. She was marred so badly she was banished to the dark side of the harmite. Another rumor was that his “heroic” brother, Siegmund, was an avid participant in their S&M games.

In his supposed grief over his brother’s death, Constance had demanded that any Messian brought in from the battlefield would go directly to him for punishment. A trail of blood led down to the dungeons below the palace, where hundreds of Messian soldiers met their final deaths. At one point during the six months following Siegmund’s death, his father had actually stepped in to halt Constance’s actions; because the Universal Council had gotten wind of the tortures he was inflicting on the Messian soldiers and was planning to investigate the allegations. Fearing his reign would be jeopardized, his father had publicly reprimand Werner, but privately assured him he would have his vengeance when the Assassin was captured. This kept the bloodlust lit in his eye; the hope of pure vengeance.

Cenzo could see that same lust now twinkling in the man’s eyes as he perused the prisoner hanging behind him. “Whether he’s promised you or not, I haven’t brokered any deals with my father over the handling of my prisoners,” he affirmed coldly, staring the man down.

Werner sneered merrily, as he returned, “I have a signed decree from your father, which overrides any command you may have on this matter.”

Snatching the document up, Cenzo immediately recognized his father’s signature and seal on the document, which clearly read that Werner was indeed entitled to his punishment of Morgan. Despite the close bloodline, knowing what he knew of Werner, every gut instinct told him to rip the decree to shreds and shove the pieces down his wiry throat. But his head reminded him that as a Spryten soldier he could not defy the order of the Emperor – no matter his preference, no matter his blood relation. In fact, this was how the royals like Werner were able to have whatever they wanted as long as they allowed his father absolute power over the government and military.

A practice only established during his father’s reign. Before then, his forefathers had reigned as either generals or as politicians, leaving one or the other to experts. If his father wanted Cenzo and his troops to attack a village, they did it without question. This never sat well with Cenzo, who found no sport in pillaging people who had no effect on the war whatsoever. His father believed that he needed to claim as much land as possible to leave the Messians without allies. What his father neglected to see was that no matter how many villages or cities they acquired Messians somehow infiltrated their holdings. His father may keep the rulers of those lands happy with all their heart’s desires, but Messians were getting to the people.

Cenzo returned the document to Werner, with a stiff warning, “You get first blood and that’s it.”

Werner looked like he wanted to protest, but thought better of it. He turned to the boy and ordered, “Calydus, my tools.”

Morgan simply smirked at Werner, who tried to hold her gaze, but found he was slightly unnerved by the coldness staring back. He was always the intimidator and dominator. The beast seemed perfectly calm and collected. He was determined to break her of that quickly. “I’ve waited a long time for this, Morgan the Merciless,” he announced, removing his overcoat.

“The kid, too?” Morgan asked, indicating the boy.

“I’m teaching my son the order of things,” Werner explained, rubbing the boys head tenderly. “How the inferior are punished for their sins.”

Morgan looked at the little boy and smirked deeply, “I’m sure this child learns a lot of lessons from you, Werner, but not quite the one you intend for him to learn today.”

“Shut up, murderer!” the boy called out.

“Damn, if the little bastard can’t issue an order,” Morgan giggled. “Did your… daddy teach you that?”

“My father has told me all about you and your kind,” the boy returned, bravely.

Morgan’s smile deepened. “Is that so? Does he talk about me during his little bedtime stories?”

The boy looked confused then he caught on to what she was saying. She could see the fear creep into the boy’s eyes as if some secret had been laid bare for all to see. Morgan turned her gaze back to Werner and scowled coldly, watching him assemble his tools. One appeared to have a computerized handle with an electrified cord, which buzzed lightly as he adjusted the settings. Morgan noted the tiny, sharp spikes along the spine of the cord. The weapon, just on appearance alone, could rip flesh from bone. If he was going to draw first blood it would be on the first strike with that thing. Werner, who seemed mesmerized by the weapon, sighed and placed it down.

He picked up another tool; a long, weighted rod with electrified clamps on the end. “I need her raised further up,” Werner instructed to no one in particular.

Cenzo did not move to do Werner’s bidding. Instead, he nodded his head toward Aries to do as the royal asked. Aries pressed the button to raise Morgan higher up in the hold. Calydus walked around Morgan and placed a large bowl beneath her, then took his place at her back, awaiting his father’s orders.

“Any words, Morgan, before I begin?” Werner demanded, pulling the trigger to spark the clamps for effect, receiving no reaction from the prisoner.

“Hope your aim’s good,” she smiled coldly.

“Oh, believe me, you will know what is pain,” he assured her raising his arm for his first blow. “But I must say I am surprised to find that my brother’s assassin was a woman.”

“Really? Why?” Morgan engaged.

“I mean the assassin was calculated and skilled, he- I mean you had simply taken on all seven (one at a time, of course) and made mincemeat of them,” he said, drawing closer. “It was quite of combination of barbaric mayhem and deliberate planning.”

“I simply returned the favor,” she threw out, not attempting to avoid the spark which came dangerously close to her exposed nipple. “You should’ve seen what they had done to our Empress.”

“Ah, yes, your foolish little Empress, who thought she could change the war by demanding we honor some bogus treaty from centuries ago,” Werner mused with a snort. “She was a pretty little thing, but she had the most annoying penchant for traveling with her bratty children. She had a nerve to bring her daughter into the council.”

Morgan smirked, “Her point was probably this: If a child understood the concept, what was wrong with all of you. If I recall, hadn’t the Empress’s daughter made a blistering point that had stung the court deeply.”

Werner was thrown, his movements paused, “I don’t recall.”

“Sure you do,” she sneered, watching him exchange weapons. He was going right for his first blood. “I believe she said something to the effect: we are all…”

The hiss traveled across the hold like a bolt of lightning and struck soft flesh immediately. Only it wasn’t Morgan’s. In the last milliseconds of the crack, Morgan had swung back to catch her boot heel in the line holding her to the ceiling. The strike had landed on Calydus, who was now screaming in agony on the floor. In the chaos, Morgan had detached one of her concealed picks and broke the lock on the cuffs. Landing on the hold floor, she flung the sharp pick right at Werner’s wielding hand, where it promptly exploded. Werner howled in pain as he stared at the stump that remained of his hand.

Cenzo stared at Morgan in disbelief. He had been so wrapped up in the discourse between the two; he had not noticed anything else. How was she able to conceal the weapons? Aries would’ve done a complete metal search of her before binding her. At that moment, Aries was charging for Morgan, only to be quickly dispatched, which fully woke Cenzo from his stupor. Morgan held Aries prone with another one of her picks firmly pressed to his neck.

“You didn’t think I’d let him get what he wanted, did you?” Morgan asked, knowingly.

“I guess I underestimated you,” Cenzo answered, adding, “But why let the boy get hurt?”

“Trust me, I did that brat a favor,” she said, nodding toward the whimpering Calydus. “He’s no longer pretty enough for bedtime stories.”

Cenzo did not press further at the accusation, but merely offered a slight glance toward Werner who was whimpering himself over his lost limb. If what Morgan implied was true, then Werner would need to be questioned. His activities in the haremite may never come to question, but abuse of a male child was another story.

“And now, what do we do?” he asked edging toward her and Aries.

“Give me a status on my men,” she ordered tightening her grip on Aries, dancing them around the hold slowly.

“Aries, tell her what’s happened to the Messian soldiers,” Cenzo ordered calmly also following Morgan’s lead.

Aries grunted, “C’mon, Cenz. She’s going to make a break for it.”

“Do it!” Cenzo growled. “You see what she did to a little kid and a court royal. What makes you think she won’t cut you?”

“Fuck!” Aries swear. “They are in isolation in another hold.”

“Are they all accounted for?” Morgan pressed. “Alive?”

“Yes!”

“Good,” Morgan replied happily, flinging her explosive pick at the door panel, which forced open the hold doors. Shoving Aries back into the hold, Morgan made a break into the depths of the land barge. Soldiers paused in surprise as her blurring half-naked image skated down the hall. However, Morgan knew she was not alone in her sprint around the barge. A mere glance back confirmed Cenzo had taken up the chase.

Ok, General, let’s see you catch this snake, she smiled to herself.