The world does not care of dreams or hopes. Such are concepts that live solely within the mind, and though they may propel a Grievar to strive for greatness, they may also weigh one down. A Grievar should have sight of the horizon, but not at the expense of the next step forward.
Passage Four, Sixty-Third Precept of the Combat Codes
Murray shifted his weight back and forth, standing among the crates in the dimly lit warehouse.
Across the dusty floor, N’auri sat with her legs swinging off one of the nailed-and-bolted boxes, casually chatting with Brynn and Sol.
“That fishmonger on the Emerald still there, the one with the spiced sarpin?” Brynn asked.
“Yup, as good as you remember it too,” N’auri said. “Solara here didn’t get a taste of that, though. Too busy helping us take out Daimyo lords.”
Sol shook her head sheepishly. “Still haven’t forgiven you for tricking me like that.”
“And I still haven’t forgiven you for thinking we were stupid enough to think your name’s Sayana.” N’auri laughed.
Murray couldn’t believe these kids who called themselves rebels had taken down a figure as powerful as Lord Cantino. Though Wraith was the one who had led that operation, N’auri appeared more cheery islander than cold-blooded assassin. Nothing was as it seemed in this new world.
Nearby, Dozer and Knees passed the time working on striking drills, the big kid’s hands moving as mitts as Knees teed off on them.
“Two, four, three!” Dozer bellowed, and Knees threw a cross, uppercut, body shot combo.
“Jabs!” Dozer yelled as Knees followed up with three quick jabs.
Dozer threw a roundhouse, which Knees ducked under, and a push kick that knocked the Venturian backward.
“Don’t forget that kick coming down the center,” Dozer instructed sagely as he glanced out of the corner of his eye at N’auri sitting up on the boxes.
“You told me we’re only working hands today, you block.” Knees dusted himself off. “Showing off to the Emeraldi again?”
“No,” Dozer said. He raised his voice. “Just want to make sure my crew is prepped for anything we encounter.”
Knees rolled his eyes and took advantage of Dozer’s distraction by dragging the boy’s arm across his body and leaping onto his back.
“Hey!” Dozer protected his neck as Knees fought for the strangle, a ritual the two often played at.
Murray watched as Knees sank the strangle, then whispered something in Dozer’s ear before popping off the big kid’s back.
“What do you mean, she’s more Brynn’s type than mine?” Dozer shoved Knees, who had a smirk across his face.
Murray shook his head, though he was glad Dozer had regained some of his personality after getting de-fluxed. For two weeks, the big kid had moped around, not even eating his fair share of rations.
Murray paced to the far end of the warehouse and stood beside a heavy steel door, the one place his crew hadn’t been allowed to enter after the month they’d worked for the Flux.
“Your games won’t last.” Murray heard Wraith’s muffled voice from within.
“A Grievar shall not accumulate land, wealth, servants, beyond what is necessary for survival,” came another voice from behind the door.
Murray heard a thud, the familiar sound of a fist striking flesh, and then Wraith’s voice again.
“Enough with the Codes; tell us how we can activate it.”
“A wave rolling to shore and receding to sea knows neither purpose nor—”
The steel door opened and Wraith’s pale face appeared.
“Something you need, Murray Pearson?”
“Seeing as we’re a part of this operation now, thought you’d tell us about the prisoner you’ve been interrogating in there for the past week.” Murray met the lieutenant’s eyes.
Murray had seen the bedraggled Grievar carried in by Wraith’s men, thrown into the prison. Whoever he was, Murray was impressed with his grit. The man hadn’t broken yet. Though Wraith had punished him every day, the man only repeated random scripts from the Codes, as if to antagonize the Flux lieutenant.
“Not something you need to know,” Wraith replied, shutting the door behind him.
“He’s a Grievar,” Murray said. “Man you’re beating in there is our kin. Thought we’re fighting the bluebloods?”
“We are,” Wraith replied as he led Murray away from the door. “Though sometimes our own kind are confused about which side they are on. We need to remind them.”
Murray clenched his fists. The lieutenant’s words were the same as the Daimyo’s. Justifying dishonor and servitude with the notion of keeping order and closing ranks.
“You seem… impatient.” Wraith noticed Murray’s scowl.
“Ready to get on with this,” Murray replied, relaxing his hands. He needed to stay the path. “Where are they?”
“They will come when they are ready,” Wraith said. “We must not rush into anything. One misstep and the empire catches on. Last week, our hideout in the Andal foothills was hit hard by Enforcers. No survivors.”
Murray nodded grimly. It was dangerous business, not complying with the empire. Going head-to-head with the Daimyo was a near death sentence.
“We’ve been waiting,” Murray said. “Standing guard at the docks and the depots, every day for a month now. My crew is ready for the next step.”
“I know why you’re nervous, of course,” Wraith said. “All the anxious energy within your crew. It is your past with the Strangler.”
Murray still couldn’t get used to these rebels calling Cego by that name.
“Yeah,” Murray admitted. “I am nervous to see him again. A lot has changed since we last crossed paths.”
“I know about your past,” Wraith said. “All Solara has told us. And the Flux does our due diligence with all initiates. You were the one who saved him, took him from the slave Circles and brought him to the Citadel.”
“Seems like a lifetime ago now,” Murray said.
“It was,” Wraith said. “The world has changed since. And the one you called Cego, he’s changed since the Slayer took him from the Daimyo prison. After the things they did to him, he’s not the kid you knew anymore, Murray Pearson. You need to remember that.”
Wraith turned and walked back into the interrogation room.
Every day after standing their rounds on the docks, the crew returned to the warehouse to report to Wraith. Most often, it was business as usual: A shipment came in by Dyver, was loaded onto transport, and they made sure it got back to the warehouse safely.
Murray didn’t ask questions about the contents of the shipments, many of the crates now housed in the corners of the expansive warehouse. He didn’t ask why the Flux needed an entire team to ensure the safety of these goods.
One thing Murray did know was these boxes weren’t all full of rations to support the growing rebel armies, as Wraith had told them.
The chatter within the warehouse stopped as the chain winch attached to the large steel gate began to turn. Transport mechs usually entered by the main portal a few times per day but never this late at night.
The heavy metal sheet slid up to reveal at least a dozen men standing at the entryway, the dockyards moonlit behind them.
Several in matching studded black leather marched in with authority. Murray could smell empire Knighthood on the lot, the way they carried themselves, their mangled ears and the scars crisscrossing their faces. Even though the Knights no longer bore any recognizable tattoos from their service, Murray knew he’d tangled with their sort in the Circles before.
The men made a quick sweep of the warehouse, eyeing the crew with suspicion without saying a word.
“Clear!” one of them yelled, a giant of a man with a missing ear.
“Hello, Wraith.” The large Knight slapped the Flux lieutenant on the back. “Still got no sense of humor?”
“Ulrich.” Wraith nodded.
Several more figures emerged to the dim warehouse light.
Wraith stepped forward and bowed his head. “Slayer.”
A chill wind crossed the space as a tall, cloaked figure stepped forward. He threw his cowl back, revealing the face Murray had seen on so many feeds across the empire: the leader of the Flux rebellion, Silas the Slayer.
“You’ve heard of our loss on the ridge.” Silas turned to Wraith.
“Yes.” Wraith’s voice wavered. For the first time, Murray saw the pale lieutenant’s stoic demeanor broken.
“We’ll need to recoup our foothold there, soon,” Silas said. “Are you up to the task?”
“Yes, Slayer,” Wraith said.
“Good.” Silas turned and met Murray’s eyes.
Murray had stared down many killers in his life. He’d fought every sort of Grievar, those from the northern ice all the way down to the southern isles. He’d faced death enough times to consider the reaper a friend. And yet, Murray feared the man standing before him.
“It’s about time you darkin’ gave my crew something better to do than watching water fruit shipments on the docks,” Murray said.
Murray also knew that if he felt the fear, he’d rather dig his own grave than show it to this lot.
“Just as I’d heard about you, Murray Pearson,” Silas said, his eyes flashing. “Always telling things as they are.”
“No other way to do it,” Murray replied.
Silas waved to the rest of the crew, still on the outskirts of the warehouse. “Let’s all come in and acquaint ourselves before we start briefing on the operation ahead. In fact, I know there are some reunions to be had here.”
Another hooded figure stepped forward from amid the battalion of Knights. Murray could see golden eyes shining out from beneath the cowl of a cloak.
“Cego!” Dozer yelled, rushing forward. The tall Knight named Ulrich stepped in front of Dozer, shoving him backward a step.
“Hey!” Dozer growled. “What gives—”
“It’s okay,” Cego said quietly. “I know him.”
The kid pulled his cowl back. His head was shaved, as it had been when Murray had first found him fighting for his life in the Deep.
Ulrich stepped aside, and Dozer shuffled toward Cego again, this time more cautiously.
“Is it really you?” Dozer asked.
“Yes, it’s me,” Cego replied.
Dozer couldn’t hold back any longer, like a wolf that had been apart from his pack for too long; he pulled Cego into his trademark double-unders, lifting the kid off the ground.
Cego didn’t return the hug, though he let Dozer wrap him up. He was looking past Dozer, his golden eyes meeting Murray’s.
“Hello, Murray,” Cego said. It’d been almost two years since he’d seen the kid. Cego had grown into a man, nearly as tall as Silas now, his black leather corded with the muscles beneath.
“It’s been a while, kid,” Murray said.
Sol had started to cross the floor toward Cego when she stopped in front of Silas. The girl met the Slayer’s eyes.
“Solara Halberd,” Silas said. “Wraith has told me you were an asset on the Isles. I thank you for your service.”
“I was on the Isles to recover my father’s body,” Sol said unflinchingly.
“This I know,” Silas responded. “Your father fought well against me. He died an honorable death. I never wished his body to be sold to the Daimyo. In fact, I requested he be sent back home for proper burial.”
Murray saw Sol’s jaw clench, and he prepared for things to go sideways.
“I thank you for that,” Sol responded calmly. “And I’m ready to take down all who would tarnish my father’s memory.”
The girl moved on to stand in front of Cego.
“Are you okay?” Sol wasn’t one to pull punches.
“Yes,” Cego said listlessly.
“I heard what they did to you,” Sol said. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help.”
“There’s nothing you could have done,” Cego said. “And what they did to me has made me stronger.”
Sol nodded and appeared ready to turn away before she added, “We’ve missed you, Cego.”
Cego was quiet for a moment, as if processing the strange words Sol had uttered.
“It’s good you are here,” Cego said. “We need strong fighters for what lies ahead.”
Sol looked hurt, though she recovered quickly. They needed to hold their cover.
“Last time I laid eyes on you, you’d put your hand through the Goliath’s skull,” Brynn said as she approached the kid. “Spirits be praised, you’re alive and well.”
“Good to see you again, brother.” Knees punched Cego in the shoulder. “We be ready to finally put down some soap-eaters with the famous Strangler.”
“I didn’t ask for the name,” Cego said blankly.
“It’s well deserved,” Silas said. “And now that you’re all reunited, we need to bring our new recruits up-to-date with the task at hand. Lieutenant?”
Wraith stepped forward and raised his voice uncharacteristically. “How does one defeat a larger, stronger opponent?”
The Flux Knights barked in unison, “Wear them down! Move fast! Strike to bleed!”
“Correct,” Silas said as Wraith stepped back.
The Slayer eyed the new recruits. “These are the tenets of the Flux. This is the strategy we’ve employed to wage war against the empire. This has been our path against the vast Daimyo machine, those who have made slaves of our kin for millennia.”
Murray looked to Cego again. The kid stood straight-backed as his brother paced in front of the rebels. He stared into the shadows of the warehouse. Perhaps he’d heard the speech one too many times.
“As most of you know, we’ve been making steady progress wearing down the empire’s main supply lines. We’ve not overcommitted our attacks or centralized our forces. We’ve made this a war of attrition,” Silas said.
“And we’ve used our speed to remain largely undetectable,” Silas continued. “We attack, do damage, and move out, giving our opponent little ability to counter.”
Silas stopped pacing and cocked his head, as if listening to some unseen voice. The Slayer stood like that for several moments. Murray looked to the Knights, and clearly, they were used to the strange behavior, not batting an eye.
Murray couldn’t help but stare at Cego again. The kid was there, in the flesh. Certainly broken, and changed, but alive. He wanted to go to him, wrap the kid in his arms. Murray wanted to tell him he was sorry he’d not been there when he needed him most. Murray wanted to tell Cego he’d brought Sam back to the Citadel.
“We’ve bled the empire,” Silas said abruptly, breaking his silence. “We’ve struck fear into the hearts of their nobles, brought the violence to their homes, their wards, their parlors, their eateries. We’ve littered blueblooded bodies in our wake so that they feel safe no longer.”
Murray disliked the soap-eaters, but he could feel Silas’s hatred for the Daimyo, a palpable energy coming off the Slayer.
“Our forces to the west have struck their key mining operations, cutting off supply of precious elements to hinder production of mech weaponry,” Silas said as he continued to pace. “We destroyed one of their largest factories on the Desovian border, a place where their steel beasts were being churned out.”
Murray felt exposed in this place, in front of these rebels. How could these kids under his care hope to blend in? How could they follow this zealot on his blood-soaked path?
He saw the emptiness in Cego. Maybe he’d already lost that one, but now Murray had led the rest of the crew right into the wolf’s lair. The bile rose in his throat.
“We’ve done so far what no rebel force has ever achieved against the empire,” Silas said with pride. “The enemy is bleeding, breathing hard, on their heels. We need to keep pushing forward, striking at our opponent where their defenses are down, ensuring that not only their bodies are broken but so are their wills.”
Murray wasn’t sure if his eyes were deceiving him, but he could swear a fine mist was rising from Silas’s shoulders toward the warehouse ceiling. And then he caught a flash of movement at Silas’s arm—a glowing flux tattoo in the form of a wolf prowled down to the Grievar’s wrist.
Murray caught Dozer glaring at the elaborate canine design. He knew what the big kid was thinking; the Whelps had been forced to rid themselves of their fluxes, while the leader of this entire movement somehow had kept his own intact.
“Shirōkami.” Silas’s glowing eyes met Dozer’s. “This is not a mark of the Daimyo, like your flux tattoos were reminders of. This isn’t something they’ve forced upon us. This is a mark from within, given to me by the blacklight.”
Dozer looked like he was about to argue, but Murray grabbed the boy’s shoulder and squeezed it.
“Though we’ve had much success, we’ve also had to sacrifice,” Silas continued. “We’ve seen our enemy’s strength, their ability to destroy us with their mechs. Our opponent is not near finished. We cannot underestimate their strength; at any moment, they can strike back with a finishing blow.
“There will be a time when we amass our forces. There will be a time when Grievar-kin ride out into the open field of battle. There will be a time when we show them our full might so that they can quiver in their estates, watching on their feeds. But that time has not yet come.
“The fight is not always the one in front of us,” Silas said.
The words rang out in Murray’s head. Those were Farmer’s words.
“First, we must strike at another breaking point, one deep in the heart of enemy territory,” Silas said. “Here in Karstock, where we’ve operated in plain sight, purposefully avoiding conflict. But the time has come to trade our spot in the shadows for a vital target in the open. Karstock Labs.”
Of course, Murray had heard of the famed facility where the empire’s top makers worked. Karstock Labs was planted right in the center of the capital.
“We’re here to help with the cause, not become corpses for you.” Murray couldn’t hold back anymore. “How could attacking Karstock Labs be anything but a death sentence to all involved?”
Wraith snarled. “You dare doubt the Slayer when you’ve only—”
“Murray Pearson is right to be concerned,” Silas said. “He is a veteran fighter, one that’s seen more Circles than most in this room. Yet he hasn’t seen what we can do…”
“We’re not here to sacrifice ourselves,” Murray said. “I want to be alive to see the look on their blueblooded faces when we knock at their doors.”
“You will not be a sacrifice,” Silas said as he pulled the hood back over his head and began to walk away. “Lieutenant, outline the plan to the recruits.”
“You aren’t fighting with us?” Murray shouted after Silas as he passed beneath the warehouse gate. “On this mission you’ve said is so important?”
“You’re in able hands, Murray Pearson.” Silas turned back. “And there’s a certain marshal who ordered the execution of several of our rebels recently. I owe him a visit.”
The Slayer vanished to the shadows of the dockyard.
Wraith stepped forward to take his place.
“Karstock Labs is the largest producer of neurostimulants in the world. They flood the market with these enhancements, pawning them to both the highest empire supply lines and to the lowest black-market dregs,” Wraith said. “Our primary objective is to destroy the lab’s production capacity.”
Murray didn’t hear the same hatred Silas had for the Daimyo in Wraith’s voice. The lieutenant had a different flavor of cold calculus behind his words.
“Our second objective is to capture a high-value target,” Wraith said. “Master Maker Stalyr Varakas, leading the research and development of new neurostimulants for the past three years and responsible for many of the new strains on the market today.
“In the past, we’ve simply assassinated similar targets,” Wraith continued, nodding to Cego. “But we believe Varakas to be in possession of integral information that will help with our next phase of attack against the empire. So, we must capture him alive and return him here for interrogation.”
Wraith passed a handful of what appeared to be small black seeds to N’auri. The Emeraldi girl distributed them among the crew.
“You’re going to be telling us how to throw punches through this thing?” Murray asked as he fit the small rubber piece into his swollen ear.
“These receivers will allow us to be in communication throughout the operation,” Wraith said. “I won’t always be in sight, but you’ll be able to hear me and know that we’ll be watching.”
Was that a threat?
“We have an inside operative at Karstock Labs,” Wraith said. “Using her intelligence, we’ve determined the precise time to strike. The highest-level security protocols will be disabled at this moment, but we’ll still need to get by a large and highly trained security force.”
“There be Enforcers waiting for us?” Knees asked, though Murray knew the question was on everyone’s mind.
“Yes,” Wraith answered. “There are several mechs guarding Karstock Labs, though we hope to bypass them. In the case we do encounter one, we’ll take care of it.”
“Take care of?” Dozer asked. “You mean, like fight one of those things? I’ve seen what they can do to a body—”
“You will not need to worry about the mechs,” Cego said quietly. “I’ll handle it.”
The words of his friend silenced Dozer, and Wraith continued.
“Murray, we will use you as a distraction,” Wraith said. “You and Dozer will walk in the front doors of the facility.”
“And how do we suppose that will happen?” Murray said.
“It so happens that the empire official who runs the lab is a fan of yours,” Wraith said, a faint smile almost blossoming on his ghostly face. “We’ve set up a personal audience for him.”
It all makes sense now.
“You never cared about our training, what we added to the team,” Murray growled. “You’ve been wanting to use me as a distraction for this op the entire time.”
“Yes,” Wraith said flatly. “But we needed to see your loyalty first. And as you know, throwing a feint is most often the best way to bring an opponent’s hands high to land a proper body blow.”
Wraith demonstrated the technique, moving with precise speed, the steel bracers on the wrists of his leather uniform reflecting in the low light as he threw his punches.
Murray couldn’t argue with the man’s logic. And it would be otherwise impossible to gain entrance to a place like Karstock Labs without setting off alarms.
“So, you want me and Dozer here to dance for some politik while you do the dirty work?”
“Don’t worry,” Wraith said. “There will be plenty of dirty work for you as well. Once you are isolated with the official, you will take him hostage. You will sound the breach alarm and draw security forces to your location.”
Murray shook his head. Despite the lieutenant’s calm demeanor, it still sounded like he was sending his crew on a suicide mission.
“We will be ready to bail you and Dozer out.” Wraith watched Murray frown. “But first, I will lead the bulk of our force to infiltrate the lab’s core production facility. We will enter via the sewage system below the labs, which we’ve gained access to via our network of Grunt operatives.”
“Great, we be walking through the shit now,” Knees muttered.
Wraith ignored the Venturian and turned to Cego.
“The Strangler knows his objective. Capture Master Maker Varakas alive and destroy all else in the way. You’ll climb the disabled lift shaft for roof access and come back down into Varakas’s research lab through the ventilation.”
Cego nodded.
“Solara,” Wraith said. “You’ll be accompanying the Strangler.”
Cego shook his head. “I don’t need anybody with me; she’ll only hold me back.”
Sol stepped forward. “What did you say?”
Cego ignored his old friend and spoke directly to Wraith. “You know I can handle it on my own.”
“The Slayer has given me these instructions,” Wraith said. “He wants other Flux operatives to be trained in your particular… skill set.”
“Now is not the time for me to be brood-sitting,” Cego said.
Murray watched Sol’s brow furrow.
“I’ve worked with Solara before, and you know her as well,” Wraith said. “She’s quick enough to keep up, good enough in a pinch to help out. Especially because you’ll need to go through Varakas’s personal guard to get to him. Take her; you’ve got no choice.”
Cego paced away, unresponsive.
“We’ll run training exercises for the next week instead of having you on guard duty at the docks,” Wraith said.
“Finally!” Dozer stepped forward. “I’ve been waiting for some real action.”
Murray couldn’t quite tell whether the big kid was still playing his part or if he was genuine in his excitement. He feared the Slayer’s words had seeped into these kids’ minds, pulled them toward this hopeless cause. The cause that Cego seemed to be lost within.
Murray looked to the shadows where Cego had retreated. He didn’t recognize him anymore. The kid he’d pulled from the slave Circles. The boy who had always stood up for the weak, who had possessed an innate sense of honor that transcended these games for power. Now Murray only saw the Strangler in the shadows, born of the blacklight and shaped by Silas over the past year.
Wraith turned to the dozen Knights who had stood at attention, unmoving like mechs throughout the operational details.
“Free to fight,” Wraith whispered.
“Fight to be free!” the Knights called out.
Murray heard the voices of his own crew joining the chorus.