Page 3 of Broken Triad

Obsidian’s guidance through the corrupted Rift itself.

I knuckle the brand over my heart in respect as the triad of Generals take the stage. Ra’al looks worn down. His leadership on Abascus, where our Mate died, got him the promotion to General and command of the Matador.

Our ranks are filled with men who fought on that doomed planet. They’d go into hell if Ra’al led them there. I lock eyes with the General.

Ra’al and his triad were whipped by General Gladinus when he spoke out of turn at the meeting, yelling that we must Orb-Shift, knowing it was the only way to get there in time to prevent the massacre. Gladinus refused. He was under strict orders not to risk the perils of the Rift, every ship in the Aurelian Army essential for the coming war against the Fanatics, as they call the legions of Obsidian.

I watched Ra’al bleeding as he was whipped mercilessly. He did not see a vision of his Mate on that planet, but he was the only one to stand in support of me. I don’t know if he did it for the ten billion souls or because my triad’s Fated Mate was on Abascus, but he will have my respect for life.

“Men.” He states the word simply. “We are going to a forsaken planet. We received reports which were confirmed a week ago that Trebulous lies in the path of tens of thousands of Scorp. The planet declared Independence. No Aurelian Empire soldiers are coming to protect them. We will claim this planet for Obsidian.”

My lips curl back in disappointment. An Independent planet. I had thought Obsidian would drive us through the Rift straight into Aurelian Empire-controlled territory, so that my triad would be up against Aurelian soldiers, not mindless Scorp.

“Every one of you will earn women with blood. Some of you felt the call of your Mate in that direction. Fight for her. Fight for the Mates of your brothers.”

Bolden and Khra are silent, but their auras are screaming; rage, pain, torment in their beings as the stony emptiness of their auras crack open.

“Control yourselves,”I telepath, my telepathic voice hard, and they set their jaws, staring forward. There was not even a flicker of anguish betrayed to those around us. Good.

I have gone beyond pain. The word is grey and empty, just like my battle-brothers’ auras, grey and empty except when I paint it red with my Orb-Blade. Then my heart pounds as my sword-arm moves as if controlled by fate itself. My aura was grey until the Bond thrummed, it’s grey after, and the singular flash of color when I felt her can only torment me.

It’s as if the three of us were blind, then given sight for a few precious days, only to have our eyes torn out.

It hardened us. It made us what we need to be. The universe needs us.

My eyes narrow. General Ra’al has a far-off look in his eyes. Kriz, one of his two battle-brothers, a pretty boy with a damn quick blade, puts his hands on his leader’s shoulder. It brings the General back to the present. Ra’al is more worn by the day. His mind is split and clouded—but I’d still follow him above any other, even Obsidian himself.

“The planet is two shifts away. Obsidian can see the flows of time and space to guide us, but his vision weakens the farther we go. The first jump is near guaranteed. The second may take us into the void. You all knew the risks of this mission. You all volunteered. We go to a planet forsaken by the Aurelian Empire, to claim it for Obsidian and raise the black flag. We will save them. Youwillearn your Mate through blood.” He raises his fist. “You will save her life, and own it!”

Men hide their fear well on blank faces. I can still smell it. The tendrils of yellow nervousness, wafting off from the brutal triads around me. There is no stink of fear from my men. We stand, straight-backed, our auras clear.

The Rift holds no danger for me. Not yet. I have a destiny to fulfill. It could rip every man here from limb to limb, and we would come through unscathed.

The Priests told me that it will be my triad that aids in the killing blow that takes Queen Jasmine and Emperor Raegan off the throne.

I am destined to die in the streets of Colossus, not shredded by ether forces beyond comprehension.

“Start the Orb-Drive.” Ra’al may look worn, his eyes hooded and his faced lined, aged decades in the last year, but his words are iron and unflinching.

I close my eyes. Kriz’s booted footsteps march down the hallway as he leaves the stage and walks towards the bridge. He is the one who will start the Orb-Shift, guided by Obsidian himself. I keep my eyes closed tight, and think of her, watching her smile, the flesh melting from her beautiful face until only bones remain.

The stink of fear grows. Hard men, men who would go up against Orb-Blades and Scorp claws without thought, are afraid of the place between worlds.

Long moments pass. Then the voice comes.

“Orb-Drive activating. We’re taking coordinates from Obsidian himself,” comes a feeble, nervous voice through the loudspeaker. Some technician, one who spends battles hiding behind dials and consoles, his only chance of a glorious death if enemies board the ship and he can make a desperate last stand.

Energy goes over my body, as if I am an active Orb-Blade, covered in blue-black fire. My eyes snap open, as the walls of the ship bend inwards, and yet, they do not bendintoanything. The space inside the meeting hall is the same, even as the walls collapse towards us.

Then it’s all gone.

There is only darkness, and the cold iron spheres of my triad’s auras in my mind.

My lips curl back in a smile as I remember where I had heard the name Trebulous before.

It is one sector over from the border of the Aurelian Empire’s Elsinor. Elsinor, a planet armed to the teeth, with heavy military forces.

The War-God is sending us to tame Trebulous…

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