As Jurrella works the room into a frenzy, Xarrix begins to explain. “I take it you know little about the Werdlow system.” Before Wil can answer, he continues, “When the Peacekeepers gave up trying to pacify this system, they not only left but took their toys with them. The residents of the planet found themselves suddenly on their own—deservedly, some would argue. They had to learn to farm and trade with the few traders who’d visit the planet.”
“He’s right,” Zephyr whispers in Wil’s ear.
“Jurrella’s family united most of the colonies on the planet,” Xarrix continues, “by force when necessary, but usually it wasn’t. Her father and grandfather were charismatic leaders.” He gestures toward the Duchess, still working the crowd, while the trussed-up intel bot watches. The remaining Quillant is standing silently between two guards, its eyes unfocused.
Follux Sul turns and hisses, “Would you two gossips like to take your chat outside? The show is getting good!”
Wil flips him off, just as Jurrella stops before the intel bot. “You worked for the enemies of Werdlow! You took part in an attack that could have cost our world its freedom and prosperity!”
“I repeat, I am only—”
Jurrella motions to one of her guards, who activates the device which immediately separates the droid’s limbs from its body. It emits a low warbling kind of sound.
“What was that?” Bennie asks over the comms.
“She just ripped the droid’s arms and legs off,” Wil says under his breath, so as not to alert anyone to his comms device.
“She is torturing her,” Gabe says matter-of-factly.
“Her?” Wil whispers in unison with Zephyr.
“The intonation of her voice suggests she has affected a female persona. She answered the Duchess’ question honestly,” Gabe informs them.
As the body of the droid slumps to the ground, held up by a few stray wires coming from its now separated limbs, the crowd once again erupts in cheers. The droid’s optical sensors flutter before going dark.
Xarrix leans over. “Her father purchased this ship with the entire savings of the colony. They used it to run freight at first, then to pirate when it was safe to do so. Every credit they stole and earned went to the colony, and they sold every unit of production and refined goods the colony could produce to fill the coffers. Jurrella learned of the derelict fleet from her cousin, Bunto. Apparently, Bunto wanted to sell the ships.”
“And she wanted to build both a maritime and military fleet, with your help,” Wil finishes.
“What’s happening?” Bennie pushes.
The remaining Quillant crew member is standing before the remains of the intel bot. “Was Bunto operating alone?” Jurrella asks. “He and his thieving mate Wi’Qu left together.”
“I never met any Wi’Qu,” the captive replies, trembling. It is wringing its hands worriedly.
“You lie!” the Duchess shouts, encouraging the crowd to scream at the captive, who shrinks back against the verbal onslaught. Without a word, one of her guards walks up and shoots the Quillant in the back of the head.
“God!” Wil says. Then, to head off his team’s questions, he whispers, “She just executed the other Quillant.
Jurrella turns to the crowd, then points to the last survivor of the failed attack, the arm-less engineering bot. “This one will fight! Tonight!”
“Fight?” Maxim asks.
“Fight?” Wil asks Xarrix.
“A popular pastime on Werdlow Three is droid fights,” the crime boss replies offhandedly.
“That’s not okay,” Wil grinds out. “It doesn’t even have arms.”
“Yes, that will be a handicap for sure. You’re welcome to stand up and tell her that. I trust your crew is prepared to carry on the assignment without you? Though, given what we’ve just seen, she may just torture and kill them all, except your droid. She’ll make him fight, he’s too unique to just destroy outright.” Xarrix pauses to think. “She might sell him though, he really is unique.”
Wil growls and gets up. “This is grolacked!” He makes his way toward the exit, while Jurrella watches.