The monster’s scales had been welded into shape from various other pieces and were painted to match. I scuffed one with my shoe, and beneath the gray paint, I saw orange. Under the gray of another, I found markings that looked like they might be digits.
The Ish-Nul watched in awed silence as I circled around the creature and found something even weirder. I held my breath as I approached. It was a rod, no more than two inches in diameter and about five times as long. It ended in an intricate shape resembling a claw holding a sphere. The end that touched the rest of the debris had two protrusions, hooked like the dragon’s teeth. It resembled a sword’s hilt.
I didn’t think it was a sword, but I wrapped the fingers of my right hand around it all the same. The diameter felt right. I pulled, and it gave a little, revealing metal so black, it was as if I was looking into the starless void. It was the right width to be a sword, and I felt my heart begin to race.
I pulled harder, and more blade was revealed. Another tug told me that it was stuck, and I ended up hauling the dragon’s entire head toward me.
I let go and gave the problem some thought. Martian Storm Marines never fought without their vibro-blades by their sides. I needed a sword. I was pretty sure I’d just found a sword. But if I broke it, I wouldn't have a sword. Then again, I needed a sword that wouldn’t break, so if it broke easily, it wouldn’t be that useful.
With the matter decided, I grasped the hilt again, wrenched it from side to side until I heard something snap, and pulled the blade free.
It was an undamaged blade as dark as hyperspace itself.
Chapter Fourteen
The Ish-Nul were primitive. They understood basic mechanics, and even some of the advanced stuff, but their tactics and technology were a thousand years or more behind my own. The one thing they did have going for them was that they’d discovered how to make beer. And they made a lot of it.
I sipped my mug and watched the beautiful women dance around the fire. It was a practiced dance, swaying hips and jiggles in all the right places.
It had been a good day. I’d killed an honest-to-god dragon. I had become a hero to people who had no idea what my secret was.
The sword I’d found was at the back of the Great Hall, the largest building in the village, while a pair of old women fashioned a scabbard and belt for it from animal leathers and a design I’d scratched out for them.
While I stared into the flames, I considered my mission. I needed to know if the Revenge’s crew was on this planet. I didn’t give a rat’s ass about the ship itself. The Lakunae could keep it, destroy it, even give it back to the Xeno if they chose.
I really didn’t trust the Lakunae, and neither could I put much faith in their promise that my crew members were safe. If my Marines and the rest of the crew had made it off the Revenge alive, then it seemed likely that at least some of them were on the same planet as me. If they’d been captured, it was also likely that they’d be making life difficult for their slave-masters. Marines were tough that way. They were also tougher than they were smart sometimes. I hoped they knew when to quit or back down. Otherwise, I might be on my way to rescue their corpses. At least they’d get a proper burial.
The more I thought about it, the less I believed it was likely that the Void Gods were all they claimed to be. Sure, they were powerful—I was evidence of that. The big question was whether or not they were good. Hyperspace looked to me like nothing more than complete blackness—a dead void between universes. If it was ever like my own, what happened?
The answer seemed clear: the Lakunae happened.
A shiver ran up my spine.
My thoughts were drowned out by the happiness of the people surrounding me. Despite the losses they’d suffered today, they rejoiced now. They lived hard lives filled with bloodshed, so their warriors dying was cause for celebration, not mourning. They’d fought well, so they deserved a brilliant send-off into whatever afterlife their kin believed in.
As I watched the women dance, I thought of another woman. Reaver. A strong focus on survival and movement hadn’t given me much time to think of her. And a part of me felt that it was a betrayal to simply sit here and drink beer while she might be out there somewhere.
I shook off the thought. It would be ungrateful to just leave the Ish-Nul village without a second consideration. But I had to get moving, and soon.
I left the fireside and poked my head into the Great Hall. Two old women, matrons in the community, were putting the finishing touches on the scabbard they’d created for it. Though the sword had been passed around nearly everyone in the village, and they all said it was remarkable, those two women acted like they couldn't care less. They were just happy to have something to do. I needed a scabbard anyway, so it worked out for both of us.
When one of them caught me watching, she nodded and gave me a toothless smile. I couldn’t help but laugh, no matter how bad I felt. These were good people.
I returned to the party and sat on an empty table.
“Mighty dragon slayer!” Timo-ran said with a belch as he came to stand at my right side.
He swayed
