I squint, trying to muster the bravado I'm known for, but the poison makes me feel like I'm slogging through the muddy silt beds on Mirk 2. Still, I refuse to let him see me falter. "Well met, General," I rasp, my words tinged with the taste of sulfurized iron. I sniff hard at the fetid air. "I knew I was on Vont 4 the second we landed. The stench of your reign proceeds you.”
The air thickens with tension, General Kragar's presence commands the space, a force so tangible it's almost another entity in the room. And yet, despite the venom weakening my body, desire coils within me—a primal recognition of power meeting power, a challenge whispered in the language of conquest.
As I stand defiant before the Enforcer, the throne room fades away into shadows. With each labored breath, I fight against the encroaching darkness, determined to remain sovereign over my own fate, even as it hangs by the thinnest of threads.
The air crackles with a dangerous electricity, the scent of ozone sharp in my nostrils as I meet General Kragar's furious gaze. My pulse throbs in my temples, an insistent drumbeat that echoes the restless movement of the living metalloid crowning his monstrous head.
"General," I say, my voice a low drawl despite the neurotoxin's relentless assault on my senses. "If you wanted to see me so badly, a simple comm would've sufficed."
"Silence, corsair," General Kragar snarls, rising from his throne like a tempest unleashed. "You have desecrated sacred ground, and your flippancy will not save you now."
I can't help but chuckle, though it comes out more as a cough. "Desecrated? You hired me to plunder rillium shipments from the Bioti.”
“You were paid for your services before you infiltrated my treasure room and helped yourself to several crates of Dythum crystals.” His voice booms through the chamber, every syllable a lash against my already weakened state. "Your insolence is intolerable!"
What he said was true. I’d been hired to thieve energy chips from the Bioti, but as a guest of the General allowed me to get close to his treasure room. The Dythum crystals he had inside were worth more than the rillium and the fee he paid me to steal it. I would have been a fool not to pilfer what was within my reach.
Inside, I feel the stirrings of my sivot, its anger a fiery brand upon my consciousness.Jules,it seethes.
Can't think of her now,I silently mutter, pushing back against the sivot's rising fury.Got bigger problems.
General Kragar steps down from the dais, each footfall resonating with the weight of impending doom. "You will pay for your transgressions with your life."
"Always so melodramatic," I retort, my own defiance a feeble shield against his oppressive might. "How about we skip the theatrics and get to the part where you let me go?"
"Behtu Ky'Orlax," he begins, his voice booming and void of any warmth, "For the crime of theft against the treasure vaults of Vont 4, I hereby condemn you to execution. Your life will be forfeit at the next rise of the three moons."
"Come off it, Kragar," I taunt, leaning into my cocksure persona despite feeling anything but. "Deep down, you love our little dances. What will you do for fun without me?"
"Enough!" The General's voice is a thunderclap, silencing the rumble of whispers from the spectators filling the room.
A little help here,I silently urge my sivot.Now would be a good time for you to show yourself.
I sway on my feet, the poison threatening to claim my consciousness. In the depths of my mind, my sivot writhes, its rage a living thing,You denied me my fated mate! I will help you not.
Bliking dund!I inwardly curse my sivot.If I die, you die too!
A sivot without its mate is dead anyway,my sivot mutters somberly.
"Take him to the dungeon to await his fate,” General Kragar commands the Stryt guards flanking me.
"Until again, Kragar." My words drip with sarcasm as I brace for whatever comes next. "It's been a bliking pleasure."
Our standoff is a taut wire stretched to breaking, the space between us thick with unspoken threats and the electric hum of desire for dominance. I stand, defiant and unbowed, the darkness at the edge of my vision drawing near as my body betrays me, yet my spirit remains untamed.
"Do what you must,” I whisper, the words barely audible over the pounding in my ears. "But know this—a Star Maverick bows to no one."
"Bold words for a dead male walking," General Kragar replies, his mouth curling into a cruel sneer.
“You might have me now, but you won’t have me for long,” I challenge, even as the room tilts precariously around me. “Star Mavericks are impossible to kill.”
"Take him," the General commands. Rough hands grip my arms, their claws digging into my flesh as they haul me through labyrinthine corridors, down into the bowels of the palace. The dungeon looms before us, a gaping maw ready to swallow me whole. With each step, the stench of dampness and decay grows stronger, wrapping around me like a shroud.
We stop before an empty cell. The barred door grinds open, a cacophony of metalloid on stone, and I'm thrown inside with less care than one would give to a sack of waste. My knees hit the unforgiving floor, and the impact sends shards of pain radiating up my legs. The darkness here is a living thing, thick and oppressive, wrapping its icy fingers around my throat.
"Enjoy your last moments, Star Maverick," sneers one of the guards, his voice dripping with malice as the door slams shut behind me.
I rise to my feet, shaking off the pain. The cell is nothing more than a cold, barren cube, designed to strip away all hope and dignity. I reach out, my fingertips grazing the rough-hewn walls, slick with the moisture of a thousand despairing breaths. There's a small window high above, offering a narrow slice of the desolate sky, a cruel reminder of the freedom that eludes me.
