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Going Native: Feeling of Enemies in the Shadows (ch. 56)
🕑 Added 2020-10-19 14:51:00 +0000 UTCFasha sighed, the sound nearly drowned out by the sounds of war. She hovered above a city, ready to throw herself into the mix if needed. Her kids, her army, were strong but so were their enemies. As much as Fasha would love throwing herself headfirst into the fight, she wasn't Tarble who could somehow be aware of the entire battlefield no matter how deep in a fight he got. It was easy to chalk it up as more Tarble weirdness, though, and Tarble she was not.
If she got involved in the fight, Fasha knew she would completely lose track of the battle and her kids would end up dying because of it. So, as much as she would like to, it just wasn't worth it.
Explosions rocked the planet below, her soldiers darting around in teams of five. Fasha had drilled Bardock's lesson into them -- the team, the mission, then pride -- and so far, it seemed to be working. There had been losses initially, but as her kids grew stronger, they got increasingly rarer.
It was weird. So very weird. And that weirdness had creeped up on her so slowly over the past decade that she hadn’t noticed until it was too late. For the longest time, Fasha couldn’t have cared less about anyone. She was a true Saiyan -- only the fight mattered. Everything she did, everything that she was, revolved around searching for that next fight that would push her to her limits and make her stronger by the end of it.
Then came the team. At first, it was just Gine. Dumb, stupid, weak Gine that Fasha had relentlessly bullied had lied and covered for her when Fasha made a stupid mistake because she thought she had been strong. At the time, Fasha hadn’t been able to understand it. Especially when she was put on a team with Bardock, who she thought at the time would be the weirdest Saiyan she would ever meet, and their weirdness was attracted together. Years passed and Bardock’s weirdness infected her -- the Team, Shugesh, Borgos, Tora, Gine and Bardock.
Later came Tarble. At the start, the kid just seemed lost. He fought, desperately attempting to grow stronger to the point he nearly fought to the death in every spar simply because he refused to go down to anything less. He did what they told him to do, he came through when they needed him to -- in time, he carved out a spot in the team before he started leading it.
But, in time, Tarble would prove to be even weirder than Bardock. A true freak of nature, not just in strength but in the mind. Over the past ten years, he infected her with a new strain of weirdness, one far broader than the strain that Bardock had given her. Which is how she found herself in the situation that she was.
“I wonder if Teach feels like this?” Fasha muttered, watching her kids dart around to combat the Khuds. They were powerful. Ten years ago and Fasha would have lost against them. Even with the Wrath State, her kids were struggling. The only reason that they hadn’t lost was because they were working together seamlessly. Worry gnawed at her heart because for the dozens that she was following, there were hundreds that she wasn’t. And thousands off on their own missions.
Fasha hadn’t been aware just how scary that reality was until the warfront grew too large to stay grouped up. Of her ten thousand kids, her soldiers, nearly ten thousand of them were sprinkled across the empires they had been waging war against for the past six months. At the very least they were being reinforced with armies and the like, but her kids had to be the heavy hitters for their battles.
The kids had left the nest, off to fight battles so very far away -- Fasha was proud and terrified in equal measures.
And it was all Tarble’s fault.
“Champion!” One of her kids yelled out, spotting a Khund wearing unique battle armor. It was bright red, an odd blend of magic and science. Fasha couldn’t make heads or tails of it, but she knew that they were strong. Not the kind of strong that her kids could handle, which was the entire point that she was here.
Fasha descended in a blur, flipping sharply as she neared the Khund champion to deliver a devastating axe kick. However, the armor had some kind of sensor that warned that she was coming, so it managed to shift an oversized sword up to block the blow. Wind kicked up and the clash sounded like a clap of thunder, the ground buckling underneath the champion, yet it remained standing.
Champions were rare. The kind of warriors that the Khunds couldn’t afford to place on every front and every planet. They were the best that their empire could offer, which was the entire reason that she was here. Fasha was the only one in the system that could beat them.
“Get going,” Fasha roared at her kids, ki gathering in her hands as she flipped off and sending a blast of it in the champion’s face. Her enemy swung at her, a massive slab of metal racing towards her to cut her in half at the waist. She narrowly dodged, the narrowest dodge she had in some time. Her kids hesitated for the briefest of moments before they flew to complete their mission.
The champion didn't bother to give chase. It hefted its weapon, its eyes narrowed. Fasha touched down on the ground, settling in a stance. For the first time in a long time, she was fighting an enemy that couldn't fly. Not without technology, at least, which was something that the Khunds almost seemed to scorn. The champion's lips curled upwards into a savage smile, matching the one on her face before they both rushed forward so the fight could begin.
Fasha ducked underneath a slash from the taller alien, twisting underneath it before she used a hand to push herself off the ground and launched a foot at its stomach. She wouldn't fly to give herself the edge. So, she was stuck using the light gravity. The Khund blocked the blow with its sword, but it was still sent flying back through a building before it dug its feet into the ground to slow down. While it did that, Fasha sprinted forward, holding her hands out.
Ki gathered in the palms of her hands, but instead of becoming an attack, it lengthened and solidified in her grip to become two yellow short staffs. One was longer than the other by a quarter with a length of five feet, matching her height. Her grin grew as she threw herself at the champion, bringing one staff down on its blade while she thrust with the other.
You could only spend so much time around Tarble watching him invent techniques before you started to consider your own arsenal of techniques. Even Shugesh was starting to experiment. But, Tarble could keep his ki blades. She had something better.
The Khund let out a laugh as their weapons clashed. Her staffs were dense with ki, which made them heavier but it also allowed them to maintain their shape. Fasha twirled her longer spear, misdirecting the champion before she lunged with her short spear. The blow was blocked, but as the Khund countered by shifting its blade to rush towards her neck, Fasha lashed out with the bottom half of her long staff and skewered the Khund through the leg while leaning out of the way of the sword.
Continuing with her momentum, Fasha flipped and lashed out with a foot meant to catch the champion in the side of the head, only for it to catch the blow with its forearm. In that same instant, it reversed it's grip and slammed the pommel onto her stomach hard enough that it nearly tore through her. Fasha grunted, folding around the grip of the sword, and flew back. She landed on her feet and spun her ki weapons to show that she was still in the fight.
"You fight with honor," The Khund remarked, but Fasha shook her head, trying to speak, plotting her next move and keeping an eye on her kid's progress all at the same time.
"Honor has nothing to do with it. It's just not any fun fighting with an advantage," Fasha dismissed the praise. She wasn't Tarble. Or Bardock. Ruthlessly exploring every advantage and stacking the deck with plans within plans with contingencies for the enemy plans within plans and so on. Fasha was a warrior first and foremost.
The champion just smiled away. They did that a lot, she noticed. It was like every single one of them was just overjoyed to fight them. And it would be a lie to say that Fasha didn't feel the same way if only a little. The Khunds got it. Of all the races that Fasha had encountered in her decades of life, the Khunds were the closest in mentality to Saiyans that she had found. They had that same urge to just… fight. Not for any reason or justification, just for the sake of fighting. Because fighting for the sake of fighting was all the reason that was needed.
Fasha's boot dug into the soft concrete of the planet they fought on before a huge dust cloud was kicked up when she launched herself at the Khund. The champion settled in a stance and took her first blow head-on, blocking it with the flat of its blade. Its feet sunk into the ground, causing it to crack like glass, but it remained standing. Her short spear made a lightning-fast thrust at the Khund's face, only to barely scrape it's cheek as it dodged before countering.
Their weapons of choice moved in blurs, attacking and countering so seamlessly it was as if it were a rehearsed dance. Fasha's spears spun in her hands, offering distractions and feints as she pressed the attack, attempting to overwhelm the enemy. Her ki weapons slipped through the gaps of its defenses, but the Khund's reactions were just as fast -- every fatal blow was avoided, reduced to a shallow cut and every advantage vanished before it could be capitalized on. Her arms began to burn from maintaining the onslaught, but Fasha savored it and used it as motivation.
Their weapons clashed in a shower of sparks, its sword wedged in an X between her spears. The Khund brought down its impressive strength, forcing Fasha to sink into the ground as its sword sunk into her shoulder as her arms trembled to keep the blade at bay. Even as crimson blood dripped from the wound and her collarbone felt like it was on fire, Fasha simply smiled a savage smile before she lunged forward.
The Khund dodged the thrust at its abdomen by leaning out of the way, so Fasha pivoted, using her other spear as leverage to slam the flat of the spear into its stomach and folding the champion around it. The champion quickly recovered, landing on its feet but Fasha hadn’t moved. Gathering ki at the tips of her weapons, she sent an arc of ki at the Khund. The two of them made a large X that carved their way through a building behind the Khund when it dodged.
However, Fasha simply sent more of them at the Khund, forcing it to go where she wanted. That was until it decided to slash at the ki attack to find that its sword was sturdy enough to breakthrough. It unleashed a mighty war cry as it rushed forward, thinking that it had the best of her, but it was thoroughly unprepared for Fasha to dart forward, switching her grip on her short staff before she launched it like a spear.
There was a clap of thunder and the wind fanned the flames around them as the spear of ki shot forward, breaking the sound barrier. The champion tried to react, but it was too late. The spear of ki punched through its sword and through the arm holding it, severing the arm at the shoulder. The Khund reacted well by keeping hold of the weapon and simply letting its other arm drop to the ground as it continued its rush forward, but it understood that death was near.
Fasha ran forward, wielding a singular staff with both hands. Using the top of it to deflect a wild desperate swing, Fasha spun her staff so the bottom arced up and closed in on the champion’s neck. There it cut through armor, flesh, and bone. The champion’s head flew free and the body dropped, rolling for a second before it slammed into a ruined building with enough force that the building collapsed.
She had won.
Rolling her shoulder to test the damage, Fasha found that it worked fine enough. Now that her attention wasn't divided, she focused on the information on her scouter to find that her kids hadn't managed to get themselves killed the moment she stopped watching them. Surprisingly. It was like they were determined to do exactly that most of the time.
Floating up, Fasha went to catch up, only to stop when the sound of rubble shifted. Twisting to look behind her, her eyes widened to find the headless Khund rushing her with one arm clutching the stump of a greatsword. In that same moment, a flash of blue pierced its chest. A hole was burned through its bulky armor, telling her that the blast was powerful. The body slumped over dead. Probably. Glancing up, she saw a face that she hadn't seen in a good long while.
"Kill thief," Fasha pointed out, looking up at Bardock's too smug face as he floated above her. She rose to greet him, her own smile on her face. He looked good.
"Had to make an entrance," Bardock explained with a smirk and a shrug. His gaze drifted to her shoulder, but he knew better than to comment on the wound. "Their armor acts like some sort of back up consciousness or something. Destroying the centerpiece does the trick."
Huh. "So, you're fighting on this front now?" She asked, wondering just what Bardock was doing here. It was great to see him. Really great. And Gine and Kakarot would be happy to see him too. It was just a question of why he was here. "Is the Ginyu Squad all here?"
To that, Bardock jerked his head, gesturing for her to fly with him. He took off his scouter, but Fasha couldn't bring herself to do the same. Not with her kids still fighting. But he didn't comment on it, "The Ginyu Squad is all here. Frieza assigned us to Tarble, who sprinkled us all out across the front. Though technically, I'm supposed to be a few systems over, but I finished early and figured I had time to touch base."
That wasn't reassuring to hear. From what Fasha understood, the war was going well. In the past six months, the Thanagarian Empire had splintered. With Queen Teach having eaten the royal family, succession became an issue on top of their pile of problems. Vassals jumped ship, some going to Tarble but most tried to strike out on their own. The loyalists were buckling under the weight of the Khund empire, civilians were protesting everything under the sun… Tarble might have been too generous with his predictions of how long the Thanagarian Empire was going to last.
There shouldn't be a need for the Ginyu Squad to get involved.
"Is the situation turning south?" Fasha questioned, spotting one of her kids demolishing a soldier. Their task was nearly complete -- eliminate the Khund forces stationed on the planet, cutting off a staging ground for reinforcement to clear a path for a main offensive led by Tarble.
"The vassals of the empire are reaching out to make alliances," Bardock explained. "Not just with each other but their neighbors too," He continued when she didn't get it. And when she still didn't get it, he explained further. "The Khunds aren't the only ones watching how aggressively that Tarble is expanding. From the look of it, he's about to devour one empire and subjugate another while having the backing of the TO. There are a lot of kingdoms and empires that are looking at the situation and realizing that Tarble is about to become their new neighbor."
"Ah," It clicked into place. The vassals making an alliance with an empire like… one of the ones she couldn't bother to remember, then… "How big is the war becoming?" Fasha questioned, sending a glance at the child blowing up a weapons depo.
Bardock could only offer a shrug, "Too big if we aren't careful. I'm expecting Tarble to get curtailed by Frieza as a show of power to remind everyone that he's on a leash. That should be enough for most, but Frieza isn't exactly known for his ability to make friends." That wasn't good. That wasn't good at all- "I'm sure it'll just be a show. Tarble has become Frieza's number one customer in terms of buying slaves since the war started."
Slaves for armies, to set up his empire, and to support the war effort in ways that weren't fighting.
Fasha let out a sigh, tearing her eyes away from her kid to look at Bardock. "Are we still doing it?" She asked a question that weighed heavily on her mind for years now. Their reasons for wanting to perform a coup rang hollow when they had Tarble in the mix. Tarble, who was second on line to the throne but controlled his own empire. All he had to do was talk to Frieza and he could get himself made king.
Performing the coup… It felt like it wasn’t worth it anymore.
Bardock's reaction surprised her though -- he let out a small laugh before he offered what Fasha could only describe as a clueless shrug. "I don't know," He said, and that wasn't the answer she wanted to hear from the man that had been orchestrating a coup for as long as she's known him. "The reasons for it are still there," He said, gesturing to her kids that were fighting a war. "The bar is just going to keep getting higher. Ability and talent won't mean a damn thing to the class system. It's gotten easier to increase our strength to jump a class thanks to the Medicine Ball, but there are always going to be Saiyans like Leek who just aren't any good at fighting."
Fasha's lips thinned. Since she took command of ten thousand child soldiers, she learned a thing or two. Some just had talent while others had none. A power level didn't reflect that. Some lagged behind the group while others were miles ahead. They might have been born stronger, born in a higher class, but the talents that they did have still weren't recognized.
"Part of me just doesn't want to let it go. I've dreamed of being king for decades at this point, but that's just my pride talking," Bardock admitted with a smirk that slowly fell into a deep frown. "The best option is just to put Tarble on the throne. It's the cleanest way to get what we want." Fasha agreed with that -- since he came out of the tank, Tarble seemed dead set on completely throwing Saiyan society on its head.
Yet, Fasha also saw the problem with that. "He won't go for it." It didn't make sense. Absolutely none. Tarble was in the perfect position to just take the throne. People wanted him to. People urged him to. As the strongest Saiyan on paper, the throne should be Tarble's by right. But she knew that he would never reach out and take it. He wouldn't make a move to accept it. The throne didn't mean a damn thing to him. "He won't betray his family like that."
Bardock nodded, "No, he won't." It went beyond his attachment with Teach and Elery. It was with Vegeta jr. as well. For him to become king, Prince Vegeta wouldn't and neither would accept that.
"So, as I see it… we have two ways to venture forward," Bardock began, his voice solemn. "We continue as planned. We use your and the other’s troops as soldiers to perform the coup. Paragus is still on board, so Broly is as well. I have my own support in the TO, and while I'm not Frieza's favorite monkey anymore, he's still backing my claim." They spent years gathering the pieces for the coup, and now it was nearing the promised hour… performing the coup would just be so messy. So incredibly messy compared to what it was before Tarble entered the picture.
Fasha was silent for a moment, letting the sounds of war fill the silence. "And the other?"
"No matter what, King and Prince Vegeta have to go. To put Tarble or me on the throne, they have to be removed." That much Fasha could agree with. Both of them considered them enemies and relationship with Tarble or not, they would take them all out if they could. They simply weren't enemies that they could afford to leave alone. "So, we assassinate them both instead. Frame the Reach or someone, leave Tarble in the dark, and if he wants the throne then… then great. If not, I'll take the chair."
Assassination. The idea of it rubbed her pride the wrong way. But if the alternatives were all worse…
At least this way Tarble wouldn't have to pick any sides.
"Let's do it. When?" Fasha voiced her decision. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, ready to do it now if it came down to it.
Bardock looked at her for a moment, his mouth opening before he snapped it shut before glancing sharply to the side. Fasha looked over as well, and a second later her scouter flared to life as an awe-inspiring power level of ten million was marked as an ally. Another member of the Ginyu force? But how did Bardock know before she-
"When the war ends," Bardock interrupted her train of thought. "We wait until the war ends. No point in making things more complicated until then."
When the war ends. Yeah, she could accept that.
…
"Oh, this simply won't do at all," Koter heard Frieza say, his voice filtering through a listening device one of his agents had placed. Their scans for them were through, but when his agents were the ones searching for them, it became increasingly simple to miss one or three. Though, listening devices were sadly all he could plant in the tyrant's throne room. Even his best attempts of assassination had failed, costing him time and agents. "That's hardly the resolution I was wanting."
Koter interlocked his fingers, listening in intently on Frieza who had just overheard a conversation not meant for his ears. A coup amongst the Saiyans? That was very interesting. He had missed his chance to eliminate the Saiyans as a threat years ago, but that was a promising opportunity. What’s more, Frieza sounded like he had a stake in it.
“Who knew a lack of ambition could be so infuriating?” Frieza continued to grumble to his aid, Berryblue, who listened patiently. To that, Koter knew he was speaking of Prince Tarble. Koter’s exact opposite as things were. Koter would stop at nothing to reach the peak of the Reach society to accomplish his goals and Prince Tarble stubbornly refused to even consider usurping his father and brother. “I wanted drama, dammit.”
Berryblue let out a patient breath, “Are you dead set on sabotaging your greatest support?” She questioned, sounding like she knew the answer. Koter glanced at the video feed of the throne room to see Frieza sitting in his floating throne, one arm propping up his head as he glared balefully at a planet that was being ravaged by Prince Vegeta.
Frieza answered by turning his glare to Berryblue. The elderly alien met it and looked like she swallowed a disappointed sigh. “I can't say I understand or approve, but if it is your will then it will be done. Bardock is attempting to defuse the situation. Give him reason to escalate instead."
What Koter was hearing was the height of luxury, he realized. And wastefulness. Frieza raised two empires -- Tarble and Vegeta's -- and all for the sake of his own amusement. Just so the explosion would be that much bigger when two brothers collided. Now he was pushing Bardock to complete his rebellion?
"Hm. There's an idea," Frieza hummed, lazily flicking his tail. Koter couldn't begin to imagine what was going through the tyrant's mind. "But I'm wanting something… bigger." There was a slow smile that tugged at the edges of his lips, his eyes narrowing even as a chuckle rang out in the command room. "And I think I know just how to get what I want."
Koter waited for a moment, hoping that Frieza would be so foolish to reveal his plans, but no such luck. The tyrant simply giggled to himself at the thought of what he intended. Letting out a small sigh, Koter closed the feeds. Recordings would be made, reviewed, and flagged if anything important was being discussed, but he had more important things to deal with than listening to small talk.
Leaning back in his chair, his eyes focused on a map of the Reach Empire. Colors marked how far they had fallen in a mere decade, solid proof that they were undoubtedly losing the war. A red line marked the second Shield Wall, a larger and far more grand one he spent years defending. A handful of years had changed his fortune greatly. With his agents in the Frieza-force, it had been simple to engineered victories that justified his quick ascension up the ranks until he refined supreme over military matters.
The only ones above him now we're the heads of the great families. One was an agent, one was his father, and another was in the process of being removed. It was nearing the promised hour. Years of work were to be paid off with unlimited power. If only he could bring himself to be happy about it.
With his position, it was easy to misplace supplies for his own ends. The Ghost Fleet was swelling in power, his armies growing in size… but it wasn't enough. He ran the calculations again and again, but the answer wouldn't change.
"A century," Koter muttered, looking at the redline that surrounded the core of the Reach Empire. As far as he was concerned, everything beyond that red line was real estate to bleed and delay the Frieza-force. It would take him a century to turn the Shield Wall into what he wanted. To gather the strength needed to venture out again to reclaim what was lost.
That was too long. He would be discovered and dead before the century passed. The Shield Wall would be breached again before it was ready and all would be lost. He couldn't afford a century. So, he was forced to cut corners. Then shave off plans. Then sacrifice quality. All to decrease the timer to something feasible.
Five years. If he and the Reach Empire could hold out for five years, then the empire would survive. They would withdraw, huddling behind their wall as their enemies defeated themselves to break through them whether they be Green Lantern, Saiyan, or Frost Demon.
It was just a case of giving themselves five years. Prince Tarble's distraction from the Reach front was a blessing. The moment he vanished from the fight, it was like the pressure that the Reach had been creaking under suddenly vanished. There were others, of course, but it was only once Prince Tarble was gone did it become clear that he was the driving force behind the Frieza-force advancement. In an ideal world, Koter could eliminate him entirely, but his attempts of assassination have met similar failure.
Koter's faceplates twitched into a grin. He couldn't claim credit for creating the opportunity before him, but he would be a fool to not capitalize it. The blow dealt to the Green Lanterns was a major one. They had replaced their numbers like nothing happened -- and there was even an intriguing rumor about Blue Lanterns being sighted -- yet the giants of the galaxy were waking up. The Green Lanterns operated as a scythe that beheaded any empire that grew too tall, in theory, but now the blade had dulled, weeds were shooting up.
He gave an order to his Wraiths to seize control of some notable ex-vassals of the Thanagarian Empire. It had been shattered in everything but name, and Prince Tarble wouldn't be the only one eager to sweep up the pieces. The Prince had spread himself thin already. Adding more weight might be enough to make him falter. And the more distracted the Trade Organization was, the more time the Reach would have to build its strength. His agents would reach out to powerful empires or kingdoms, forming coalitions and swearing fealty to new masters to drag them into the war with the TO.
A galactic spanning war. Tarble had been so kind to set the dominos up, it would be a shame to not knock them over-
"Your father wishes to see you," The voice of his AI aid informed him, breaking Koter out of his thoughts. He glanced at a security feed that popped up to reveal that his father was coming here to him rather than the other way around. Meaning something had gone awry. How unfortunate.
Koter tapped a finger on his desk, his thoughts moving as fast as lightning. There was only one obvious answer. "Send him in," Koter ordered his tone flat. He had known this day was coming but it would be a lie if he said he expected it so soon. The only good side of this was that it was his father rather than a rival.
His father was a dignified man and he looked the part. Ceremonial robes, deep blue faceplates that matched his eyes, both carefully blank as he moved with a natural grace. Perfectly in control of himself, his actions, and as far as he was aware, the situation. His father looked down at him for a moment, and nothing about him gave any outward show of emotion except for the fact that he was here.
"What have you done?" He questioned, probably the most direct he had ever been in his entire life. There was no mistaking what he meant.
"What needed to be done, father," Koter answered, his own voice just as in control. He had learned his lessons well. His father fell silent. It wasn't in his nature to gape, scream or shout. That silence, the lack of a sharp retort might as well be all three rolled into one.
The silence stretched on for a few seconds, an eternity as their gazes were locked in a battle of wills. "You admit it?" He questioned and the fact that he was caught so off guard that he had to ask for clarification almost got a smile out of Koter. Almost.
How was he supposed to last five years when the secret was already starting to surface? Had he been too reckless with his agents?
"There's no need to hide it from you. You aren't in a position to reveal anything, else our dynasty will crumble," Koter dismissed the possibility. He was Koter Ve'sk, but his father was simply Ve'sk. Everything that he did, everything that he was, was for the dynasty. He had no other identity beyond being a tool to avenge slights and further their splendor. Meaning that he would die before revealing that secret.
"Knowing that you still-"
"Don't waste my time with pointless questions, father," Koter interrupted sharply. "Not when it has become so valuable. Every second you waste is a second I can plan our survival."
His father fell silent again. This was… Koter had imagined confronting his father throughout his childhood. He imagined this conversation more times than he cared to count. Yet, he hadn't expected it to feel so… dissatisfying. Koter had always wondered what it would take to get an actual reaction from his father, but if learning that he had been brainwashing the Reach high society couldn't do it then nothing could. "Survival? The Reach has-"
Koter couldn't do it. He couldn't swallow those same words that were shoved in his face despite all the evidence they were lies. "No. Enough. I won't pretend to accept your delusions any longer," His voice was like steel and just as cold. He tapped a holographic button on his desk and in response, a Wraith appeared.
His father flinched. He knew what was going to happen next. Still, he remained in control of himself for as long as he could. "What is your plan?" He demanded to know, and there was actual emotion in his voice for the first time.
Koter considered not answering, but… for a decade, he kept this secret. And his father did deserve to know.
"I will lead the Reach as an uncontested dictator for as long as I'm able. The great families will fall, stripped of their power… or, as much of it as I can take. The Reach will survive under my rule, but eventually, I will die. Likely by assassination. Our dynasty will suffer the same fate as the rest that have fallen -- utter annihilation and reduced to a footnote." His father trembled, or at least Koter thought he did.
But he didn't tell him everything. Souske carried an heir to their dynasty. The Ghost Fleet was hers. Even if the Reach fell, a legacy would be left behind.
"Damn you," His father cursed. There wasn't any screaming or shouting, but it was more than Koter ever expected.
"And damn you for pushing my hand like this, father." If only someone had listened… but this was not the time to think about regrets and what-ifs. "Your assassination at the hands of the third great family will be arranged. I will become the family head, the third family will fall and the second is my puppet."
The Wraith seized his father, bending his mind to Koter's will. He watched dispassionately until the task was done. There was nothing to be said and his father had his orders, so he simply turned around to leave his office.
"Give mother my love," Koter said, sinking into his chair.
It was for the Reach. Everything was for the Reach.
That made it worth it.
It had to.
