Page 41 of Broken Triad

Bolden wastes no moments. He strides over the lip of the hole, and scales down the iron ladder. We follow him into the mine shaft. The ladder is a hundred feet down. There’s no safety rope. Life is cheap, this far away from civilization. They don’t even spare the money for an elevator to go into the depths.

“Reminds me of a Scorp nest,” snarls Bolden, as he drops from the ladder into the darkness, and the three of us press our smartwatches in unison, bathing the mine in bright white light.

We’ve descended into hundreds of Scorp nests before, the burrows the creatures make where they bring their victims back to their Queens to be impaled and filled with eggs. I’ve seen an Aurelian still alive, his belly bursting open as the tiny creatures scurried out, his body half eaten. I drove my blade through his brains. Right before the blade entered his forehead, I saw a strange peace in his eyes.

That peace will not be mine. Not yet. Not until I have fulfilled my destiny.

Khra’s smartwatch blinks off for a moment, then a holographic map emanates from his wrist. “Three mine shafts. He could be down either. Two of them can be cleared within the timeline. The deepest shaft would take ten hours.”

“We go left,” I say, trusting my instinct, looking at the three long tunnels. There is a shaft on it for a mine cart. These humans are terribly primitive, using ancient technology because it is the cheapest. These mines have little of value, and men are sent to grind out a meager existence. I looked at the schematics of other mines, with gold or uranium, and they are automated, with educated engineers using robotics and machines to empty the ground of its riches. Here, there is no reason for investment, but the three families could not stop expanding, eking out every penny from the world, common minerals traded for the lives of miners.

As we pass through the timber posts that reinforce the doorway to the first tunnel, we walk into the weak light of strips affixed haphazardly to the roof and sides of the tunnel. We dim the lights of our smartwatches, and stride forward near silently, choosing our path carefully on the uneven, rocky terrain.

I raise my fist, and my two battle-brothers stop in their tracks, drawing their Orb-Blades, but not activating them as I see the outline of the Scorp lying in wait near the tracks. I run my fingers over the hilt of my Orb-Blade as I look for more—but it’s still not moving.

“Dead,”I telepath, with some satisfaction as we march forward. The Scorp was a big one. Perhaps nine feet tall, with a long, whiplike tail. This one has a huge hole rent in its chest and a pickaxe in its leg. One of the miners repurposed a power drill, the kind that cuts through rock, into a weapon to drill into the monster’s heart.

The miners are no scared rats.

The tail of the Scorp is splayed out inertly, the venom crystalized at the tip. It may be dead, but if someone steps on that point, one drop will have them die screaming. I saw an Aurelian cut the head off a Scorp and turn away, thinking it harmless, when its tail moved as if by instinct or momentum and drove the point of the barb straight through the back of his neck.

Khra activates his Orb-Blade, the sharp black blade growing from the hilt. He does not force the weapon to produce lightning that wraps around the blade, instead using the black metal to cut the barb of the Scorp tail off before sheathing his weapon.

I furrow my brows in confusion as he lifts it up, turning to face the two of us. He squeezes the severed tail, and a drop of bright green venom falls to the dusty ground.

He waits, without words or telepathy, until I understand. “Throw that aside. It is only a rumor,” I snarl. I will speak the words, even if he is too scared to.

“It’s not just a rumor. You three never went to the catacombs. I did. I’ve read of the Scorp-Blood tribes. Groups of Aurelians who live deep in Wild Space, who take human women and reproduce, without needing the Bond—”

“Lies! Lies and fantasy. Tales of Aurelians who live like cavemen? Rumors spread by the Toad Kingdom, to make us look like swine.”

“Savages,” says Bolden, his voice echoing in the dimly lit cave. “Savages who become as the Scorp. Berserkers.” There’s a dark respect in his voice. He feels akin to this imaginary group of Aurelians, who live far away from civilization, in the depths of Wild Space where the Scorp teem like maggots.

“Throw that away. We have a mission.”

Khra does not flinch. It is the first time he has ignored my order, in the centuries that we fought at each other’s side. “We know so little of the Bond. Perhaps when one Mate dies, another—”

I step forward, rage filling me, wanting to punch him. I control myself, breathing heavily. “Then why are we not Bonded to her? Why did our eyes not change, why do we not feel her in our minds!” I’m yelling.

My words wash over him. It’s like he doesn’t hear me. He just stares into my eyes, his aura building and building in my mind. “A sacrifice.”

I look down at the barb in his hand. It’s as long as a dagger, the point like a needle. “One drop of that, we die screaming. We’ve watched men die that way. Have you seen one that survived?”

“General Asmod. That is how our War-God was born. What are you thinking, Krazak? That Lola is a distraction? An escape from reality? I’ve tasted how good life can be. I’d rather die screaming than die feeling nothing.” He brings the tip of the Scorp barb close to his wrist. One little twist of his hand, and the man I’ve fought at the side of since we were boys in Academy of Colossus will be taken from me. I’ve saved his life a dozen times in battle, and he’s returned the favor, but if he pricks his wrist with that venom, there’s nothing I can do to help him.

“Khra. We have a destiny. We have a destiny to avenge our fallen Mate. Queen Jasmine and the Emperor Triad let her die.”

I remember wading in the black pools in the temples on Obsidious, the home planet of the Fanatics. I remember the chanting of the Priests, filling me with vigor, filling the empty hole in my being when every hope and dream was ripped out from me. They saved my life. I would have nothing to live for if it was not for them.

“We let her die! We were not strong enough to protect her.” Khra’s voice is raw. His hand is shaking. I’ve never seen it shake before. “I will not let Lola be burnt to ash when Queen Jasmine takes her revenge and brings the Planet Killers out of their hidden storage to reduce every planet under Obsidian’s control to dust.”

My hand darts out, gripping his wrist, pulling the barb upwards, until it’s right against my carotid artery. My eyes are wide. “Is this what you want to do, Khra? To die screaming, in so much pain you can’t think of anything except the release of death? You’re weak! There is no future with Lola. Our future is the war!” My voice booms out, echoing down the tunnel, when I hear the skitters.

Scorp.

They’re on us in seconds. Bolden is the only one paying attention, his blade active, charging deeper into the tunnel to put his broad body between us and the mass of creatures sprinting towards us, their barbed tails perfectly balanced above their heads even as their legs churn and they eat up the rocky ground, thousands of pounds of beast gaining momentum towards me.

Bolden drives his blade through the heart of the first one, lowering his shoulder and smashing it to the side, and I’ve got my own weapon up, taking my battle position with Khra at my left, as it has been for hundreds of years, as it will always be until we have our release.

---