The Cyber Chronicles VI - Warrior Breed (23 page)

Sabre
shrugged. "Fine, don't say I didn't warn you. What do you
propose?"

Trival thrust
out his hand. "A simple test."

"Ah, one of
those. But I will hurt you."

A gasp from
Tisha distracted him. She raised a hand to her mouth, then turned
and pushed through the men. He turned back to Trival, who waited,
his hand extended, a nasty smirk on his face. Sabre clasped his
hand and waited for the expected crushing grip. Instead, Trival
yanked him closer. A dagger flashed in his left hand as he stabbed
it into Sabre's belly. The barrinium mesh just under Sabre's skin
deflected the weapon, which cut a long gash. Sabre grunted and
doubled over as several Eagle Clan officers grabbed Trival and
dragged him away.

Atrel gripped
Sabre's arm. "Are you all right, Commander?"

Sabre clasped
the wound, then opened his bloody hand and glared up at Atrel.
"I've just been stabbed in the gut, Atrel. What do you think?"

"Call the
medics!" Atrel yelled.

"It's not that
bad." Sabre straightened and unfastened his tunic to examine the
wound. "I just need more stitches now."

"Let me
through!" Tassin's angry voice commanded, and Sabre turned to find
her struggling in the grip of a burly officer.

"Let her go,"
he ordered.

The officer
released her, and she hurried to his side. "How bad is it?"

"Just a
scratch." Sabre faced Trival, who stood in the grip of two
lieutenants, watching him with narrowed eyes.

"You should be
dead."

"Well, as you
can see, I'm not." Sabre stepped closer. "Proof enough, or do you
still want that test of strength?"

"Internal body
armour. So, you're not a non-com, but neither could a warrior your
size be a commander."

Atrel said,
"You've dishonoured the Wolf Clan, Trival."

"I stabbed a
warrior: a minor breach of etiquette."

"No, you
attacked an Eagle Clan commander."

"When are you
going to tire of this idiotic charade?"

Sabre said,
"Right, I've had enough of this. Let him go."

The officers
released Trival, who tugged his tunic straight and glared at Sabre.
"Good, I've had more than enough of it."

"After I crush
your hand, you will surrender your sword to me."

Trival glanced
at Sabre's bandaged right hand. "Agreed."

Sabre held out
his hand again, and Trival clasped it, this time in a crushing
grip. Sabre winced as the wounds in his palm flamed with pain, then
gripped Trival's hand. The enemy commander grimaced, trying to
exert more pressure, but his hand was locked in Sabre's grip. His
scowl deepened, then his eyes widened when Sabre continued to
increase the strength of his grip. Sweat popped out on Trival's
brow, and his face creased with pain. Sabre squeezed harder, and
Trival groaned.

"Enough!"

"You
yield?"

"Yes!"

Sabre released
Trival's hand, and he rubbed it, his expression furious and
disbelieving. He drew his sword and held it out hilt first. Sabre
took it and passed it to Atrel. With a last glare at Trival, Sabre
went back to the counter and his plate of cold food. He pushed it
aside and filled another with a fresh selection from the heated
platters.

Tarl frowned
at Sabre's wound. "More stitching for me, I see."

"Your
scientists should have engineered me to heal in a few minutes."

"They tried.
Your rate of healing is five times faster -"

"Shut up."
Sabre glanced up as Tisha came to his side, looking relieved and a
little puzzled.

"I thought you
would surely crush his hand to jelly," she said.

"I may be a
lot of things, but a sadist isn't one of them."

"You could
have humiliated him for his insults."

"What I can
do, and what I will do are two entirely different things," Sabre
said.

"Many would
consider mercy a weakness."

"Many are
fools."

She nodded. "I
agree. A truly strong man does not have to prove it."

"I'm glad we
agree on something."

Tisha smiled,
looking coquettish, then moved aside as Atrel approached. The first
lieutenant took her place beside Sabre, watching him eat.

"There is
another small matter, Commander."

"After I've
eaten."

"Of
course."

"What is
it?"

Atrel leant
closer. "It’s customary to reward the men who fought well, and were
injured."

"Medals?"

"No. A mere
handshake and a few words of praise from you is all they
require."

"Really."
Sabre glanced at him. "Are you sure they would want to be
congratulated by someone they have to look down on?"

Atrel smiled.
"The tale of your fighting prowess during the battle has reached
every ear on the ship, and probably a few on other ships by now.
They will be honoured." He paused, looking thoughtful. "Another
rumour circulates, that you were seen to crush a shard of power
crystal with one hand. Is this true?"

Sabre held up
his bandaged right hand. "A stupid exhibition."

"But an
impressive one. Such deeds are highly thought of amongst Trykons.
Your name has been inscribed beside the power tester as the one who
destroyed it, and it will not be repaired. A new one will be
installed, but that one will remain as proof of your strength."

"I'm
flattered."

"You shouldn't
be. Such feats are rare, and highly prized. Our ship will gain much
status from you. Doubtless you will be offered the command of a
larger vessel, probably a battleship." Atrel hesitated. "Many of
the men have asked if you would consider giving another
demonstration."

Sabre frowned
at the food on his fork. "I'm not an entertainer."

"Perish the
thought, Commander. No one would ever think such a thing. We're
proud to have a commander with your abilities, and the men long to
see what you can do."

Sabre shook
his head. "The trouble with giving those kinds of demonstrations is
they tend to hurt. Smashing your tester injured my hand, so did
crushing that crystal. It's not fun."

"Is there
nothing you could do that wouldn't cause you injury?"

Sabre put down
his fork and pushed away his plate. "Not at the moment. I already
have injuries."

"Of course.
When you're fully recovered, perhaps."

"I'll consider
it. Right now, I should have this seen to." Sabre indicated his
wound.

"The medics
are waiting."

"Send them
over."

Tarl glowered
at the two warrior medics who tended to Sabre's wound, clearly put
out that Sabre had not asked him to do it. The Trykon medics used a
simple strip of adhesive tape to glue the gash together, a more
effective and advanced method. Trykon trauma medicine was highly
evolved, Sabre reflected, because there was so much call for it in
a society that was constantly at war. The Eagle Clan officers
around him continued to talk and quaff their ale and wine. The
enemy officers stayed in a tight group, muttered and glanced often
at Sabre. The medics finished their chore and left, and he buttoned
up his torn waistcoat. He asked the non-com behind the counter for
a glass of water, causing many of the Trykons to look at him
askance.

For a short
time he was left in peace to sip his water, then Atrel brought
forward a young warrior with a missing hand and a bandaged
chest.

"This is
Emrend, who slew ten men and paid a heavy price."

Sabre looked
up at a young, brown-haired giant who sported a side-mounted
scanner on a silver skull plate. The warrior drew himself up and
smiled, looking proud. Sabre studied him, then held out his
hand.

"Well done,
soldier. Good job."

Thank you,
Commander. Your words of praise honour me."

Sabre shook
Emrend's left hand, and the warrior stepped back as Atrel presented
the next hero, a strapping, shaven-pated veteran with a bionic eye,
two scanners and a robotic right leg. His left arm was in a sling
and his left thigh bandaged.

"This is
Trovan, who slew nine men and sustained severe injuries, including
a broken arm."

Sabre repeated
his curt commendation and received the same reply. The next in line
was Second Lieutenant Rodar, who had lost a hand, but only had
seven kills on his tally. Atrel presented nineteen men in order of
the number of kills they had made and the severity of their
injuries, the last with only five kills, four broken ribs and a
crushed foot. When he left, Atrel leant against the counter beside
Sabre, who rubbed his aching right hand.

Atrel said,
"Now that we've captured an enemy ship and taken prisoners, we must
return to the resupply vessels to hand them over as soon as our
port side thrusters are repaired. Already a skeleton crew has taken
control of Invincible, but she will return with us, as our
prize."

"Good. How
long till the thrusters are fixed?"

"Only a matter
of hours."

"And when we
drop off the prisoners, we'll refuel, right?"

"Yes,
Commander. A high commander will be there to commend you for the
victory as well."

"Wonderful."
Sabre put down his glass and straightened. "I'm going back to my
cabin."

"But the
celebration..."

"Carry on
without me. I'm tired."

Sabre left
before Atrel could protest further, and Tassin and Tarl caught up
with him in the corridor.

Chapter Fifteen

Sabre gazed at
the approaching bulk of a massive super tanker and resupply ship
that made Nemesis look like a toy. The tension on the bridge
increased as they approached an empty docking bay. The crewmen were
intent on their instruments, and Atrel gave instructions and
received information in return. Invincible followed like a prisoner
in chains, the flashing lights on her hull signalling her status as
a captured ship, according to Atrel. This was to prevent enemy
ships from sneaking up on the resupply ships in the guise of
captured vessels, since only Eagle Clan officers knew the correct
sequence of lights.

When docking
was complete, the injured soldiers were taken to hospital to
receive additional treatment and bionic limbs. Fresh warriors came
aboard to replace them and those who had been killed. Next, a high
commander came to inspect the prisoners and oversee their
disembarkation, coming aboard afterwards to commend Sabre. The
short ceremony took place on the bridge, but the high commander had
a much longer and more flowery speech than Sabre had given to the
nineteen heroic soldiers. The huge, muscular man, whose almost
shaven scalp was decorated with a complex swirling pattern of
completely shaven lines, also sported two scanners, a bionic eye,
robotic arms and a bionic leg, as well as numerous scars. He hid
his incredulity at Sabre's size and lack of serious injuries quite
well, but not his surprise at the cyber's kill tally.

Atrel made a
complete report, and the high commander examined the destroyed
power tester panel, then left to inspect Invincible.

Seven hours
later, Nemesis was refuelled and resupplied, and they undocked.
Atrel ordered the ship to return to the battle, and Sabre glanced
around from his perusal of the screens.

"No. Set
course for the interstellar corridor 378-924."

Atrel turned
to him. "This is what you need the ship for?"

"Yes."

"As soon as we
leave Trykon space we will be a target for every warship out
there."

"I'm aware of
that."

"You have a
home amongst the Eagle Clan, Commander. You're one of us now.
You've earned the respect of every man on this ship."

Sabre nodded,
gazing at the stars. "There's somewhere I have to go."

"This is
desertion."

"The blame
will be mine. You're just following orders."

"A commander
who gives a traitorous order is supposed to be arrested and taken
before a high commander for judgement."

"Are you going
to follow my order, or not?" Sabre asked.

Atrel turned
to the pilot. "Lay in the course."

Sabre faced
Atrel. "You puzzle me. I would have thought you would resent me for
taking your command. I'm an outsider, and small by your standards,
yet you don't. Why is that?"

"You don't
understand Trykons as well as I thought. Your skills have earned
our respect, and you are no longer an outsider; you're a member of
our clan. Your lack of stature pales to insignificance when
compared to your abilities. To the Eagle Clan, you're a great
asset. I have no reason to resent you, and we were not raised to
envy those who have greater skill than us, but to revere them."

"So I can
expect the co-operation of the entire crew?"

Atrel
shrugged. "If there is any opposition to your plans, it will be
from the women."

"What about
other Eagle Clan ships?"

"Soon someone
will notice our heading and ask where we're going. What do you want
us to tell them?"

"Nothing.
Don't answer."

Atrel nodded.
"They'll send a ship after us, but they won't leave Trykon
territory, nor will they fire on us."

"Good. Two
hours to the end of Trykon space at sub light." Sabre stared out of
the screens again. "Then we'll be on our way at last."

****

Tassin glanced
up from her vidbook as Sabre walked past.

"Where are you
going?"

He stopped and
turned to her. "To do some exercise."

Her brows
rose. In all the time she had known Sabre, she had not seen him
expend energy for any other reason than to get them out of perilous
situations. When he was not doing that, he was recovering from the
resulting wounds and exhaustion. They had been travelling along a
super light corridor for five days now, and he was fully rested.
His wounds were healed and the stitches removed, and his bio-status
was at a hundred per cent, thanks, in part, to Tarl's unwelcome
supervision.