I found my sword, snatched it from the deck, and turned on my opponent.
He was holding his forehead, which was oozing a viscous, red fluid.
“That’s not possible,” he gasped. “You should have died by now!”
“Not only is it possible,” I said, closing in on him, “it’s reality. Thank you for reminding me to keep my cool. Now, it's your turn. I have a few questions for you—but first, I’ll need that ring.”
Tortengar hissed, reached into his shirt, and pulled the chain I’d seen earlier over his head. It was a yard long, and it had heavy rods on both ends, each about ten inches long, and made of Void-material. He swung it around lazily in one hand.
“If you want it,” he growled, which was a bit comical with that high-pitched voice. “Come and get it.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” I said.
I’d seen weapons like his before. Ancient Terrans from the East had invented one and named it the kusari-fundo. It was difficult to wield and had limited range, but for those who knew how to use it, the weapon could be devastating. I was pretty sure Tortengar wasn’t an expert.
I wasn’t about to let him win on a technicality, though, so I raised my sword to middle guard. If the alien knew how to use his weapon, I was going to be ready.
He did.
The attack came in a flash. The kusari-fundo shot out at me, far beyond its physical range. I was almost surprised, but it was Void-tech after all, so the laws of physics could and would be ignored.
I ducked the blow and realized my mistake as the weighted end struck me on the back of my left shoulder. The pain was incredible, and my left arm went completely numb. I changed my grip, deflected the next two strikes, and closed the distance. He was fast, but he still looked like an amateur. He was relying too much on the abilities of the weapon rather than using his mind.
His next strike was aimed directly at my foot. I lifted my leg out of the way, knowing exactly what his plan was. I wasn’t disappointed. The weapon curled, wrapped around my right calf, and trapped it. He shot me a triumphant look until I kicked my leg back, yanked him close, and socked him in the mouth. I had to be careful, though: I wanted him hurt, not dead.
He was still standing, so I socked him again. He dropped his weapons and fell hard to his rump. “No!” he gurgled at me. Then, he spat a mouthful of blood, hitting me on my chin.
I felt the pressure begin to return to my eyes and fought the rage back down.
“Drop the forcefield,” I said.
“Never!” Tortengar screeched before spitting at me again.
I was ready for it and caught the wad on the flat of Ebon’s blade. He gasped.
“Drop the forcefield. You know I can do it myself, but I’d appreciate it if you did it for me. I might even decide to show you some mercy.”
The dictator scooted back until he was at his throne and reached for the right armrest.
“Easy, there,” I said as I slapped his hand away with the side of my blade. “Let’s see what you’re up to.”
I pointed the tip of my sword at Tortengar’s crotch as I inspected the armrest. There were several black spheres protruding from the furniture, held in place by wooden brackets.
“Fex,” I muttered.
There were six of them. It was almost enough power to run an entire Mars frigate, maybe two. Or, one seriously badass Void-tech ship.
“So, how does it work?” I asked. “Do I press one of these?”
“Yes,” he said. “Press the two at the ends of the armrests. Press them together.”
He watched me closely and gasped when I ripped an entire armrest off, exposing sparking, sputtering wires.
“No!” he hissed.
I silenced the coward with a hard look before turning around. I smiled when I saw Reaver and Beatrix rushing toward me.
“Troubles!” Skrew said over the comm. “Such many peoples! Angry peoples! They do things!”
“What are they doing?” Reaver asked.
“They fire and smash! Oh, not so bad. They killing the fancy-pantses what we saw before. But, uh-oh, now they much pissed and come to tower. Can shoot, yes?”
“No,” I said. “Tell them to go to the balcony. I have something for them.”
“Reaver,” I said as I held the broken chair piece out to her. Would you be so kind as to remove the Fex from this piece of the vizier’s chair?”
“Certainly,” she said. “Why were you on the ground?”
“He’s got some kind of tech in here that feeds off emotion. The more angry you are and the harder you fight against it, the more it punishes you. I imagine he pisses a lot of people off, and when they come in here to settle their score, they die. Isn’t that right?”
Tortengar didn’t answer.
“Very well,” I said, keeping my blade at his crotch as I squatted to look him in the eye. “I’m going to offer you a choice. It should be an easy one, because I’m pretty sure that right now your city is realizing you’re no longer in charge. And you likely have a person or two to be a little afraid of with your guard down, don’t you, you greedy little bitch?
“So, here’s your choice. I could strip you naked, tie you up, and dangle you by your feet from the entrance to your own palace. I don’t think it would be long until someone found you and decided to, oh, I don’t know…”
“Throw rocks at him?” Beatrix offered.
“Find orifices to poke burning sticks into?” Reaver asked.
“Cut off protruding parts?”
Reaver opened her mouth to offer another suggestion, hesitated, then laughed hard.
“I’m not sure I could top that one,” Reaver said, “unless they have spoons. Give me a spoon, and I’ll be worse than your worst nightmare.”
“You see?” I asked the former dictator, “And these are people who, well, yes, dislike you, but don’t have years of abuse to avenge.”
“What
