Cross Blades

Author's note: to those who are wondering: yes, I do have more stories I'd like to write, but I also have a very busy month coming up. So, once "Cross Blades" is done, it'll be sometime in June before any more stories are posted.

Cross Blades

Chapter the Twentieth: ‘Taham’s War


When Usze saw Shipmaster ‘Gamul pinning N’tho to the floor of the Shipmaster’s stateroom, the both of them naked, and N’tho struggling against him, it was all Usze could do to not tackle Epse ‘Gamul off Nitro himself. The only things holding him back were his legendary Ascetic restraint and the knowledge that Epse was not the only threat in the room. Any moment now, ‘Gamul’s two guards, SpecOps Commander Rycl ‘Otsed and Major Domo Zhaal ‘Lymux, would recover from their surprise and begin causing trouble.

On the bed, Blademaster Toha ‘Sumai threw a sobbing female away from him and slid smoothly to his feet. The Blademaster did not seem the least bit dismayed by the fact that he was zipping up the bottom of his battle suit as he got to his feet to face the newcomers; indeed, he acted as though he had merely been getting his due and they were the ones who had so rudely interrupted him.

Usze held his head proud and straight, waiting for Toha—the father he’d always been compared to, but never actually met—to rise and approach him. He felt a churning in his guts unlike any he’d ever experienced before, and he realized that he had always treated his own life cheaply. He had not been afraid to die, and, fearless, he had cut down his terrified foes. Now he was frightened, deeply frightened, because Nitro and Piro were also counting on him, and that was why he could not afford to lose. He struggled to push down the emotion and keep control just long enough to win.

“So,” Toha said softly, conversationally, his mandibles curved in a predator’s smile. “My wayward son has come to challenge me to a duel.”

Usze thought back to Fil Storamy’s words. The honourable thing to do would be to issue the challenge, and in doing so, bind himself to abide by all the formal rules covering a duel. The breaking of the holy rules would result in the immediate execution of the offender.

Usze could have challenged Toha and cheated to win; he was already a wanted criminal, with assassins on his trail. One more crime would not make his situation any worse. But ‘Taham did not feel right about calling this a duel.

“I’m here to kill you.”

Toha laughed. “You are confident. I like that. Issue the challenge.” His eyes shone.

“No challenges, father.”

This statement caught ‘Sumai off guard. “No challenges? But a Blademaster fights with honour.”

The words galled Usze. Even though he was not an Ascetic any more, he had strove to follow the Ascetic Code since he was old enough to hold a sword. He had wanted so badly to be a Perfect Warrior.

He had wanted so badly to be his father’s son.

His eyes darted to the bed, where the weeping female was trying to conceal herself in her torn robe, and to Nitro, still chained to the floor, and he let his fury burn away his doubts.

He could not entertain concepts of honour against these monsters, who would use his ideals against him. Fil Storamy was right. This was not a question of whether he or his father was the better swordsman, or the more honourable warrior. This was a question of whose conduct would become the norm for Sanghelios: his and Nitro’s, or Toha’s and Epse’s.

He could not afford to lose.

And yet, he still had honour enough to feel obliged to warn Toha what he faced.

“I am no longer a Blademaster. I am no longer a Swordsman. I am nothing but an outlaw. I fight only to win.”

Usze ‘Taham lit his sword.

*

“Piro, look out!” N’tho cried.

Piro rolled off ‘Gamul just as a plasma shot flew through the space where his head had been. Zhaal, holding a plasma rifle, roared a battle cry.

But Zhaal, for all his brutality, wasn’t that bright and he clearly underestimated Piro’s courage and skill. The old Sangheili rushed right at Zhaal, dodging plasma blasts, closing the distance between them until he was too close-in for the rifle to be effective. Zhaal beat at Piro with the rifle, but Piro twisted sideways and cuffed him across the face.

N’tho had never seen Piro so angry.

Zhaal drew his energy sword. “I will cut your belly open, old man, and then I will rape your corpse, and strew your entrails for the scavengers…” he threatened.

Piro seized Zhaal’s sword arm and uttered a simple response. “By my hand you will die.”

The phrase was not a threat.

It was a holy vow.

The words were spoken quietly, and yet the old Major Domo’s face displayed a rage that would have done a demon proud.

*

On the way to Epse’s stateroom, Usze had wondered if the plan he had concocted with Fil Storamy was worth it. The weapons harness felt strange on his back; the weapon he carried under N’tho’s cloak was bulky and ungainly. He had pondered just taking his chances with his blade skills, which by anyone’s reckoning were formidable.

Now he was glad he had not.

It was taxing Usze’s skill to the utmost just to avoid being stabbed through the heart by Toha ‘Sumai’s twin swords. Usze’s blade flew like lightning, fending off Toha’s thrusts. He ducked under high slashes, leapt over low stabs, twisted sideways some times and parried at other times. Toha forced him into a furious pace, and even at the pinnacle of his fitness he could not have kept it up. N’tho’s cloak was being cut to ribbons. Uzi found himself relying more and more on his power armor to catch Toha’s blows.

Toha unleashed a torrent of viciously fast stabs. The leg that Uzi had injured on the Halo mission began to bother him; he could not move fast enough to avoid all the thrusts. His shields fell and one of Toha’s thrusts tore his arm open.

Toha ‘Sumai did not waste his breath on taunting his foe. It made him even more frightening as an opponent; there was no way to buy time with Toha. Usze did not dare spend too much time even watching Toha’s face for fear of missing other clues as to his next move; but he thought he saw Toha smile coldly.

Desperately, Usze took a few steps backwards, knowing he could not afford to wait much longer. If Toha succeeded in backing him into a corner, his plan would fail. Unfortunately, Toha was not giving him any openings at all…

Usze’s foot stumbled on ‘Gamul’s discarded bodysuit. His bad leg faltered.

Toha, sensing victory, launched himself high into the air in a powerful lunge, both blades extended, stabbing towards Usze’s hearts. The move usually left the victim with enough time to see his inevitable death descend upon him. With two blades, the odds of being able to writhe out of the way of both swords were next to nil.

But Usze’s bad leg was still strong enough to catch him before his knees hit the ground. And while ‘Sumai was airborne, Usze had precious seconds he could use. Usze had counted on Toha making such an arrogant choice.

Usze ‘Taham dropped his sword and reached behind himself, under his cloak. He whirled towards Toha as his hand caught the weapon on his back and swept it into play. His hand pressed the release button on the handle; for a split instant he feared Fil’s modification had failed, and then he saw the compact handle telescoping out into a full-length staff.

Usze gripped farther down the shaft of the weapon with his other hand, and then he brought his new weapon around in a powerful arc, throwing his full weight and force behind the motion.

Usze saw Toha’s eyes widen as he recognized the object in Usze’s hands. Not a staff, but a gravity hammer, and the head of the hammer was on an intercept course with the middle of Toha’s torso.

Toha twisted his body, but in mid-air he could not change the direction or speed of his leap.

Fil Storamy’s gravity hammer caught Toha ‘Sumai in the center of his chest, blasted through what remained of his shields, and shattered most of the bones in his body.

*

N’tho lunged against the chains, trying to see what was happening, but although he could hear the sounds of Usze and Toha in mortal combat behind him, he could not turn his head far enough to be able to watch them. He could, however, see Epse ‘Gamul transfixed by the fight, Zhaal trading blows with Piro, Kya Pomor cringing in the corner while clutching her torn clothing around herself…and Rycl ‘Otsed coming his way.

The SpecOps Commander fell to his knees and seized Nitro’s chains, fumbling to unlock the cuffs. “I’m sorry,” Rycl whispered. “I never meant for this to happen.”

“When you let me go,” N’tho replied, “you know what has to come next.”

Rycl nodded.

“So, what is it to be, sir?” ‘Sraom asked.

The Commander tilted his head in silent question.

N’tho clarified. “My kill or yours?”

Rycl’s mandibles clamped together. “Mine.”

*

N’tho rose to his feet, rubbing at his raw, bleeding wrists, and turned his head just in time to watch Usze’s gravity hammer intersect with Toha’s chest. The elder swordsman went flying backwards, slamming into the wall, leaving a bloody trail as he slid down towards the floor.

Nearby, Zhaal kicked out with his foot, catching Piro’s left leg and sending the older warrior into a backward tumble. Snarling, Zhaal rounded on N’tho. Nitro had no weapon, but Zhaal didn’t seem to care as he lunged forward with his blade. N’tho dodged, just in time. ‘Lymux caught his balance and prepared to lunge again.

“Zhaal!” The voice carried the thunder of divine retribution.

Zhaal and Nitro turned as one.

Piro had let Zhaal’s kick roll him right over in a backwards somersault. Now he knelt on the floor, and the carbine that had been on his back was in his hands.

The carbine blast caught Zhaal ‘Lymux in the throat. His hands rose, scrabbling to stem the purple tide coming from his severed carotid artery. He sank to his knees, choking on his own blood.

N’tho had always known Piro ‘Kipaz as a kindly old soldier, but to Zhaal now, Piro could be nothing less than an angel of vengeance. Piro limped across the room, knelt down to look Zhaal in the eye, and hissed, “While you die you should beg the Ancestors’ forgiveness for what you have done to my son .”

*

Epse ‘Gamul, free of Piro’s weight, darted to his control console and began barking orders. “Rycl, to me!” He snatched up his comm link. “Ship’s guards, report to the commander’s stateroom, mutiny in progress, instigator Usze ‘Taham. ‘Sumai is dead. Orders are to kill ‘Taham on sight, I repeat, kill Usze ‘Taham and his men on…”

Rycl grabbed the comm link away and tossed it aside.

“What are you doing, you fool?” ‘Gamul demanded.

“If you want the opportunity to defend yourself, you should draw now.”

Epse scowled. “You’re supposed to be watching my back while I call for support. Idiot.”

Rycl responded by igniting his blade.

“Draw,” Rycl ‘Otsed whispered, “or die where you stand.”

“Rycl, you traitorous cur. I won’t forgive this!” ‘Gamul blustered as he drew his own weapon.

“You’ve never forgiven me anything, Epse. I’ve had enough.”

The SpecOps Commander lunged.

*

Blood bubbled from Toha ‘Sumai’s mandibles as his breath continued to rasp in and out of his body.

The nurse—Kya Pomor—uncurled and crept across the floor to squat by the shattered body of the swordsman. She tilted her head, watching him, but did not lift her hands to aid him.

“Help…me…” Toha ‘Sumai whispered.

Her eyes were luminous. “After what you did to me, you expect me to help you?”

“You have to…you have to help me…” His hand formed a fist, as though he still had enough power to bend her to his will.

“I do not have to do anything,” Kya said. “You are fortunate that I am so merciful.”

She took his own plasma rifle out of his leg holster and shot him between the eyes.

“Part of me would have liked to watch you die slowly,” she said to the corpse, “but I will never let what you have done to me make me a monster like you.”

*

Usze came to N’tho’s side and watched warily as ‘Gamul and ‘Otsed slashed and parried. N’tho’s eyes were riveted on the battle; his hands curled into fists. Usze held the gravity hammer in his left hand, while his right hand pressed against the wound on his left shoulder.

“No,” Usze said quietly. “This is Rycl’s fight.”

“I want a piece of that son of a Brute,” N’tho growled.

“I know,” ‘Taham soothed, “but Rycl’s suffered by him more than you…if you entered that fray now, you’d only distract…”

Then the fight took a turn for the worse. ‘Gamul, roaring, drove his energy sword into Rycl ‘Otsed’s stomach. The Shipmaster followed it up with a kick, sending the SpecOps Commander staggering backwards, still impaled on ‘Gamul’s blade.

‘Gamul turned unexpectedly and lunged right at Usze, seizing the gravity hammer in Uzi’s grip. Usze, taken by surprise, threw his weight back and scrabbled for the hammer’s shaft with his right hand, trying to hold on to it.

N’tho looked around frantically, searching for some kind of weapon.

Usze howled in pain.

N’tho turned his head, watching Usze stumble. He guessed that ‘Gamul had kneed him in the groin. The Shipmaster wrested the hammer away from Usze and swung it wildly.

Fortunately, Usze’s shields had recharged. Had they still been charging, the hammer’s blast would have killed Usze on impact.

But the weapon was still a large, heavy object swung with all the strength the Shipmaster could muster. It caught Usze in the left thigh, on the leg he’d injured on the Halo mission. The armour deflected the worst of the blow, but sufficient force remained to pulverize Uzi’s armour—and the flesh and bone beneath.

Usze flew across the room and slammed into the wall.

Nitro’s vision turned to red fog, burning away any thoughts of rank or punishment or shame.

Epse ‘Gamul had hurt his bondmate.

Epse ‘Gamul would die.

*

Usze ‘Taham forced his eyes open. His vision was blurry, but he thought he saw ‘Gamul swinging the hammer at him again, this time ready to bash in his skull.

And then the hammer’s trajectory changed. The weapon went spinning wildly off to the side; ‘Gamul appeared to fly backwards, away from Usze. ‘Taham caught a brief glance of a larger Sangheili behind the Shipmaster.

Usze’s vision cleared. He recognized Nitro.

N’tho spun ‘Gamul around as though the Shipmaster were no more than a hatchling. ‘Sraom showed no hesitation, no fear, not even the wild yells or stupid jokes that had been his hallmarks on the Halo mission. Nitro seized Epse by the throat with his right hand and lifted him up off the ground with one arm.

Usze had felt N’tho’s muscles moving under him, surging with power, but he’d never realized just how strong Nitro was when he put his mind to it. Epse kicked N’tho in the chest, once, twice, but it was as though the blows fell on solid rock. This was N’tho ‘Sraom in his full battle glory, and Epse ‘Gamul quaked helplessly in his grip.

N’tho snarled—the final warning of an angry predator.

Then he tossed Epse into the air, and caught ‘Gamul as he fell, one hand on either side of ‘Gamul’s head. N’tho wrenched his hands to the left. The Shipmaster’s neck broke with an audible snap.

N’tho dropped ‘Gamul’s corpse and moved to Usze’s side.

“My hero,” he whispered, and even through the pain, Usze smiled.

*

N’tho felt sick as he looked at the damage to Usze’s leg. There was bone sticking up through his skin, and so much blood… He pulled the cape off Usze’s neck and wrapped it carefully around Uzi’s thigh, trying to staunch the bleeding.

The door opened, and there stood Fil Storamy with an energy sword in her hand. “Hallway’s clear. Guards are elsewhere or dead.” Her eyes darted. “Reinforcements on their way. You need to be gone.”

“There’s your hammer back,” N’tho said, nodding at it. He didn’t want to touch it after what it had done to his mate.

“What happened to Uzi?” Fil asked.

“’Gamul got him with the hammer before I killed him.”

A small shape slipped out of the shadows. It was the nurse, Kya Pomor, running her hands gently over Usze’s wound. “This is a dangerous break. Marrow in his bloodstream could stop his hearts. He must be monitored, and the break repaired surgically.”

“You can’t take him to the med bay,” Fil argued as she sheathed her sword and retrieved her lethal hammer. “He’d be a sitting target for assassins. There’s still some idiots on this ship who would give their allegiance to ‘Jar Wattin.”

N’tho thought for a moment and reached a decision. He wasn’t sure if Uzi—or Kya, or Piro—would ever forgive him, but in his soul he knew what needed to be done. Breathing in Usze’s scent, he found within himself a conviction to act.

“Hold on,” N’tho murmured, and picked Usze up.

*

Usze sank his teeth into N’tho’s shoulder to avoid screaming in pain. N’tho gritted his mandibles and accepted the bite. Usze clenched his hands around his mate as he tried to hold himself together. The others’ voices became hyper-loud and distorted as the agony of his wound began to affect his perception.

Nitro turned to the Quartermaster. “Fil, we need to get off this ship. Piro, you used to be a pilot. What can you fly that fits four and is Slipspace-capable?”

“Watchtower?” Piro offered.

“There’s a Slipspace-converted Phantom in the bay. It’s got a better first aid setup than a Watchtower shuttle,” Fil said. “Take the green one on the front far left in the hangar. I’ll open the bay doors for you.”

“We’re stealing a Phantom?” Piro asked.

“Nah,” N’tho replied. “Didn’t you hear? The Chief Quartermaster just issued us one.” He turned his head. “Kya, you’re coming with us.” It was an order, not a request, and the little nurse did not question it.

Usze’s pain finally became too much; his vision blacked out completely. He intended to protest that it wasn’t fair of Nitro to involve Kya in this, but his mouth would not voice his concerns. For a few seconds, he heard voices still.

“What if they try to stop you?” Piro asked.

“What if who tries to stop me?” Fil retorted. “This is officially a mutiny now…and put it this way…the ship’s full compliment of Grunts and Jackals, as well as Ki ‘Chaz, Vaa ‘Moiril, and the rest of SpecOps, and all the female Sangheili support staff, want me in charge. So that’s “what if they try to stop you, Shipmaster,” and the answer involves this gravity hammer.”

Then silence, and darkness.

*

Moments later, N’tho sat in the copilot’s seat of the Phantom as Piro guided it clear of the hanger bay. It crossed his mind that Fil had given them the very Phantom Toha ‘Sumai had arrived in.

The new Shipmaster had a twisted sense of humor. Or, perhaps, of justice.

He hoped Fil Storamy could keep control of Shadow of Intent until Rtas ‘Vadum returned. If anyone could do it, it was Fil.

N’tho glanced over his shoulder, watching Kya working on Usze’s unconscious form. At first he’d been frightened that the nurse would be too traumatized from her own experience with Toha to help Usze. Instead, having Usze to care for appeared to be distracting her, which could only be a mercy.

“She’s going to need help,” N’tho murmured to Piro. “Kya.”

“I will take care of Kya,” the old soldier replied. “You take care of Usze.”

N’tho offered a silent prayer to the Ancestors to be with Usze now. It was a mercy that he was unconscious; it would protect him from the worst of the pain. N’tho could only pray that Usze would wake up when it was over.

Come back to me, Usze. Don’t leave me again.

N’tho shook his head. This time, he would have faith. This time he would believe that his bondmate loved him enough to want to live. That Usze loved him enough to forgive him for what he was about to do next.

He turned his attention back to Piro and gave him a set of coordinates.

As the Phantom entered Slipspace, N’tho said quietly, “You never told me you were my father.”

Piro sighed. “I have many regrets, N’tho of the keep of ‘Sraom. That I did not marry your mother when I had the chance. That I sired that egg that killed her. That I could not prevent your branding. I thought, in your dreams, you imagined a better sire for yourself than a mediocre warrior several decades your mother’s senior.”

N’tho scowled. “I thought my sire was my own grandfather, to be honest.”

Piro’s mandibles twisted.

“Come on, you know me,” N’tho said softly, “always thinking the worst.” He looked back over his shoulder. “It’s time, I think, for me to start hoping for the best.”