Jarovy was a giant city as much as it was a planet. Concrete and steel covered every square mile from pole to pole. And much like a city, Jarovy imported everything and created nothing. Thus, the planet housed numerous cultures, many of them rich beyond words. And, by nature of the location, all of them were criminals. Despite this moniker, many of the locals fancied themselves as proper folk. They wore fine linens, ate posh cuisine, and recoiled with a touch of bother whenever a severed head fell from the sky and splattered all over the sidewalk.
Lord Essien had blasted Trevor’s noggin from his body and punted it off the terrace of the Varokin tower (now the Moreon monolith). It had fallen 50 stories and exploded on the sidewalk, scaring the hell out of several Jarovy citizens while spraying the area with brains and blood. Not that it mattered much, because this particular head belonged to a Dimathien. All the blood, muck, and bone began to wiggle back to the impact spot, much to the relief a dainty mistress who found her new evening gown suddenly caked in brain goo. Her tuxedo-clad companion watched a hunk of tongue leap from his lapels and bounce upon the pavement before crawling away. His blunt expression never swayed from a mild curiosity because, after all, these things happen.
Soon after, the head reassembled itself and was left to figure out how to return to the body. The owner remained comatose until it did, so it wasn’t as if the noggin could ask for a lift. Fifty stories was a difficult climb for a fit Varokin, let alone for a mobile noodle with a mission. And so, driven by its biological determination, the wayward head sprouted a set of spider legs and made for the tower lobby.
It skittered down the busy sidewalk, bonking walls and ankles with its top-heavy mass. Yelps and screams greeted the sight, especially when darting between legs. A lazy-eyed expression and dangling tongue did not help matters much. The fleshy globe rounded a final corner and raced into the tower lobby. Oddly enough, the terrifying creature seemed well-placed inside the stark black interior, as it matched the ominous tone in more ways than one. The white robes of Moreon usurpers filled the lobby. They paid no attention to the wobbling spider head, as Dimathiens were accustomed to such things. However, if any one of them had taken the time to identify the noggin and return it to its owner, they would have likely curried favor from the supreme leader it belonged to.
The ultimate missed opportunity.
The head moseyed through the lobby and arrived at the elevator shafts. It waited for the next available lift behind a group of robed adherents. A sharp ding echoed from above and a pair of tarnished doors slid open. Everyone stepped inside and tapped their desired floors. The head, having no arms and the leg reach of a Chihuahua, aimed some spittle at the top button. It took several tries and some extra floor selections, but he finally hit it.
The ride was anything but pleasant. Occupants tried to ignore the wobbly spider head in the corner, opting to stare straight ahead and nod along to the mundane music. Each stop saw white robes depart without as much as a curious glance. Before long, the head was all by its lonesome. The mishit spittles resulted in a few awkward stops where the elevator dinged and the doors slid open, gifting anyone in the hallway a brief view of a teetering spider head inside an otherwise empty lift. The peculiar sight was very effective at killing conversations.
With a final ding, the elevator arrived at the top floor. The doors slid open and the spider head skittered out onto a black marble floor. It spun right, then left, then right again before coming to the frustrating conclusion that the top floor wasn’t actually the top floor. No stairs or subsequent lifts, just a large open room with a round table flanked by pointy chairs, likely a battle planning area where Varokin captains stroked chins and sneered at one another. The upper floors were only accessible by aircraft, a security measure imposed by Lord Essien after an unfortunate pizza delivery mishap. Peeved by the impasse, the creature smacked its face on the floor in the spider-head equivalent of a facepalm.
But alas, life finds a way.
Or rather, life finds an air duct.
The creature spotted an intake vent along the rear wall. It skittered over and pried the cover free, using the wall as leverage. The head entered the duct system and climbed its way to the terrace level, using little more than luck and blind resolve. After several wrong turns and annoying dead ends, it finally found a ceiling vent that emitted the familiar scent of the terrace tunnel. Lacking the aid of a screwdriver (or a hand to twist it for that matter), the creature opted for brute force. It started face-smashing the vent like a schizophrenic lunatic, sending harsh clanks echoing down the tunnel. The cover gave way and the head fell to the metal floor, hitting with a wet smack. A leg broke off, which promptly crawled back and reattached itself. Tasting a well-fought victory, the noggin leapt to its spidery feet and sprinted for the terrace doors.
The creature tore through the passage like a facehugger chasing down the dumbass that poked its egg sack. A pair of black metal panes appeared in the distance with a glowing wall panel off to the side. Using its momentum, the noggin scampered up the adjacent wall like a skateboarder owning a half-pipe. It slapped the panel with a cheek, resulting in a sharp ping. The terrace doors slid open before the creature finished its clumsy tumble back to the floor. Undaunted, it scampered to its feet and skittered out onto the landing pad, only to skid to a halt shortly after.
Lord Essien’s jet black shuttle rested with eerie stillness upon the platform. The nonstop Jarovy traffic flowed behind it with the landscapes of neighboring planets filling the sky. The shuttle’s black viewports and streamlined frame gave it an ominous presence, like a dozing panther.
And there it was.
Trevor’s headless body dangled from the nose cone like a cheap Halloween decoration.
Lord Essien snickered from the comfort of a lawn chair nearby. Jai stood behind her with arms tucked behind his back. She had commanded him to hang the body from the nose of the ship, which he did. It swayed like a ragdoll with a length of rope wrapped around an ankle. A pool of green blood covered the ground beneath it, which never grew or lessened. Drops fell from the neck stump and splashed into the puddle. From there, they slithered over to the landing gear, climbed up the side of the ship, out to the nose, down the rope, and back into the body, only to spill from the neck again. Lord Essien found this incredibly amusing, but not nearly as much as the spider head’s strained assessment of how to reattach itself.
With destination in sight, it shook off the frustration and started to tackle the problem. It skittered over to the landing gear, climbed up the metal frame, and managed to reach the nose cone, only to lose its footing on the slippery surface and smack the ground again. Undeterred, the head repeated the attempt over and over and over. Each slip and splat drew a guffaw from Lord Essien, as if watching a cherished sports blooper on endless repeat.
“That’s messed up,” Jai said.
“The fucker can regenerate. Cry me a river.”
The head fell and splat.
“So what’s the plan, m’lord?”
“What, you mean besides watching this quality spectacle for hours on end?”
“Affirmative.”
“Well, I suppose the next order of business is to appraise the full armada and start manning ships. I need to see what this trash heap can do.”
The head fell and splat.
Jai cringed and studied the head as is shook off the latest attempt. “Don’t we need him for that?”
Essien sighed. “Yeah, I suppose. Go cut him down.”
Jai unsheathed a blade and stepped over to the dangling corpse. He severed the rope with a quick swipe, allowing the body to fall into a crumpled pile. The head, now halfway up on its current attempt, abandoned the task and leapt off the ship, smacking the ground one last time. It scrambled to its feet and skittered over to the headless body. Jai shook his head with envy as the spider legs jammed themselves into the neck stump and reset the errant noggin. Moments later, the body stirred with life.
Trevor rubbed his temples while climbing to his feet. He rolled his shoulders and arched his back for a much-needed stretch. Regaining his wits and bearings, he turned towards the tower entrance, putting him face to face with Jai. Trevor yelped and jerked backwards. “Uncool.”
“Do you know how goddamn lucky you are?”
Trevor stammered and glanced away, as if confused by the question.
Lord Essien strolled around Jai with hands at her waist. She locked eyes with Trevor and settled into the hip lean of a runway model. “Now that we understand one another, it’s time prep for war.”
“So soon?” a voice said from behind.
All three turned to the tower entrance where Orantha Nifan stood in her silken robe. An opulent scarf stretched across her forehead and down around her neck, exposing her full face. Strands of white hair disappeared beneath the fabric, pulled tight against her ashen skin. Her cobalt eyes and dark gray lips formed a calm yet shrewd expression, a look tailor-made to goad Lord Essien.
Trevor stiffened his stance. “Identify yourself, stranger. For you are trespassing upon the hallowed property of the mighty Moreon Emp—”
Essien gnashed her teeth and blasted Trevor in the face, spraying skull goop onto Jai and the shuttle.
Jai sighed as he flicked bits of brain from his suit.
Essien stomped towards Nifan, blasting her with every step. Streaks of plasma zipped through the hologram image and struck the metal doors behind her, raining sparks onto the platform. Nifan maintained her unflinching posture as Essien continued her rage-fueled approach. With a final step and shot, Essien holstered her pistol and crossed her arms in disgust. Impact smoke abated as blast echoes faded into the distance.
“How comically unnecessary,” Nifan said in her usual elitist tone.
“Shut up, hooker. I would blast my own minion if they bore a resemblance.”
Nifan smirked. “I do tend to bring that out of you.”
“Mark my words, bitch. One day I will watch that dainty body explode in front of me.”
“Perhaps.”
Essien studied the lifelike hologram image from head to toe. “Neat trick, which tells me you’re in the vicinity.”
“Am I?”
“How else could you manage remote projection?”
“Oh, is that what this is?”
Essien narrowed her eyes.
Nifan moseyed over to a nearby railing and leaned back against the bar.
Essien un-narrowed her eyes. “An even better trick.”
“That is your greatest weakness as a Varokin. You balk at technology in favor of bigger booms.”
Essien re-narrowed her eyes.
“I extinguished your entire fleet with the aid of a single Suth’ra scientist. Just imagine what I could do if I actually tried.” Nifan glanced at the Jarovy cityscape.
“Ah, and the point emerges. You know, you could have just said ‘stand down or I will destroy Jarovy’ like a proper villain.”
“Is that what I’m doing?”
Essien shook her head. “You and your fucking riddles, I swear to Tim.”
“Fine.” Nifan lifted from the railing and sauntered over to the terrace entrance. “You want a straight answer? Follow me.” She turned away and floated into the tunnel.
Essien gripped her waist like a sideline coach pondering a play. She turned to Jai and a newly reformed Trevor, both of whom responded with nervous stares. She gnawed at her cheek and returned her attention to the tunnel, now glowing blue with Nifan’s hologram. She exhaled a heavy sigh and waved her hand forward. “Let’s go.”
She stepped into the dark corridor with Jai and Trevor following close behind. Nifan stood a stone’s throw away, studying their cautious approach through an amused smirk. Her presence inside the passageway resembled a ghost in a haunted house, elevating an already palpable dread. Essien clanked to a stop, leaving a few meters of space in between them.
“How do you know my tower?”
“Your tower?”
“Don’t get cute with me. You know what I mean.”
Nifan grinned. “Walk with me.”
Essien sighed and stepped forward.
They strolled down the corridor side by side with Nifan setting the pace. The sharp clanks of Essien’s boots echoed down the passage. Jai and Trevor remained close by, doing their best to soften their presence. Trevor kept his shoulders tucked and his hands hidden, wearing his fear for all to see. Jai maintained a stiff posture and steady stride as his wary eyes scanned the interior.
“You left me no choice, you know,” Nifan said with a somber tone. “You and your Varokin goons were playing in a pool they didn’t belong.”
“I had every right, same as you.”
“No, you didn’t. You never did. You never earned it.”
Essien chuckled in a mocking manner. “As if the Veiled Traders are merit-based.”
Nifan shook her head. “Silly girl.”
“I staked my claim, just as they did.”
“No, you tried to jack an advantageous artifact. Hardly the same thing.”
“Since when do you care about precepts?”
“I don’t. I only care about competition.”
Essien stopped to face Nifan. “So that’s why you’re here. You want to force me out, make sure I never see the inside of another bridge.”
Nifan grinned. “In a way, yes.”
“In a way, nothing. You—”
“The Varokins were galactic thugs, dear. Not criminals. Eliminating your fleet was a service to the network, not an undercut. You and your merry band of bullies plagued the black for far too long.”
“And yet I rebuild.”
Nifan sighed. “And yet you rebuild.”
Essien took a step forward. “Your treachery was a speed bump, nothing more. I have already forged accords that will expand my leverage tenfold.”
“Your influence is a cancer. Especially here.”
“So what’s the play? You want to hit Jarovy and destroy the tower? You can try, but I already have a shiny new fleet guarding the stronghold.”
Nifan chuckled. “You suffer from a deficiency of scale, my sweet. You brace for the small play, but remain blind to the big picture.”
Lord Essien sneered and started to respond, but an eerie stillness infected her mind. She glanced at Jai down the tunnel, who stood tall and stiff with a wide-eyed stare. Trevor was gone.
“Where’s the moron?” she said.
Jai remained silent and stared straight ahead.
Essien gnashed her teeth and stomped towards Jai. Her heavy heels clanked upon the grated metal. “Hey fuckface, I asked you a question. Where did Trevor run off t—”
Trevor’s headless body appeared around a corner.
“It’s a trap,” Jai said through the corner of his mouth. He fell forward and slammed the ground like a wooden plank. A small dart with red feathering stuck out from the back of his neck.
Essien whipped her gaze back to her nemesis.
Nifan winked.
“Oh, you nasty little cu—”
Henry snatched her head with a black sack and bound her arms and legs before she could muster a fight. A casual yank and toss draped her over his shoulder. Her grunts and kicks failed to register against his stout frame.
“Keep her alert,” Nifan said. “I need her to witness the entire thing.”
Henry nodded and vanished down an adjacent tunnel.
The hologram faded away.
A cold silence filled the corridor.
Moments later, the moans of a reassembled Trevor broke the dead air. He struggled to his feet, pawing at the wall for balance. Once upright, his sputtering brain started to assess the situation. He gazed down the corridor, uncovering little more than black metal. A subsequent gaze around the corner uncovered the upended feet of Jai Ferenhal. Trevor gasped and shuffled towards the body like a horror movie teen that needs to inspect everything despite a killer on the loose. He dropped to his knees and leaned down to examine the head. Jai stared at the opposite wall with his drooling lips pressed to the floor.
Trevor poked his shoulder.
Jai responded with a wet mumble, like a semi-conscious drunk after a heavy bender.
Trevor sighed. “Thug life is hard.”