Andrew Lambert
Well-Known Member
This section introduces the villain of my novel. I’m toying with putting a scene at the end of each of the ten chapters that form Part 1 of the book. Here are the first five scenes.
200 Years Earlier.
Birjjikk strode into the arena. All life on this planet was now underground, the surface made inhabitable untold millennia before, following nuclear and biologic devastation. The amphitheatre shaped cave, carved into the granite rock, was adorned with six giant celestial monoliths spread evenly around the arena, bearing witness to the carnage carried out in this place. Equally spaced between the monoliths were six cages each with inner and outer gates. Five would release the unwilling victims of this gladiatorial showcase. Birjjikk had entered through the sixth as two hundred elders watched on. She stood there defiantly and looked up at them, her view sweeping around expansively. Most of them glanced away to avoid direct eye contact - feigning disinterest.
Today was the biggest day of her young life. Today would decide her future within the Zerot Collective. A poor performance and she would become a lower caste worker warrior - a Grunz - destined for a life of service in the collective, only slightly up from the slave caste. They would be frontline soldiers spearheading planetary violation task forces. That was not going to happen to her. Life with little estivation? A sacrificial soldier? She knew she was destined for better. Of the ten within her academy group, four were prime candidates for Grunz caste. The result of poor breeding over hundreds of years. Birjjikk’s natural parents, though not known personally to her, were said to be two renowned searchers. Better would be expected of her. They may even acknowledge her if she surpassed her potential, but that was of little concern to her.
***
Birjjikk glared around. She was last to go. Blood had already drenched the floor and walls, with chunks of bone and flesh still scattered around. Larger limbs and carcass’s already removed by the Grunz.
My academy comrades have been busy.
To one side up against the wall lay the mutilated body of one of her academy. Left there as a vivid reminder of the danger they faced. The chest plate insignia identical to the one she was wearing was plain to see - a blight on her academy’s performance today. Even decapitated she knew from his large frame it was Garkkikk. She looked down at what was left of him and sneered ‘Turdgutter! Not even worthy of becoming a Grunz’. But whatever kill him - lacerations caused by something akin to a massive bite rather than the clean cut of a blade - would require her careful attention.
***
Birjjikk’s concentration sharpened as the elders began taking their seats and a hush came over the arena.
She needed a strong performance to get into the next phase of training. Warrior caste would then be guaranteed, and her training would continue. The darker arts of killing and mental training would be on the syllabus - she desperately wanted this. And later maybe, she would complete her training and become a searcher, like her natural parents. Or better yet, become a player. Then and only then, would she enjoy the reals benefits of being a high caste Zerot: a longer life filled with estivation - prolonged dormancy - ensuring more time to plot and play the killing game.
***
The arena was now silent. The inner doors to the five pens opened and the combatants were shepherded in from the shadows by unseen Grunz. With the internal doors now closed, Birjjikk had a brief moment to assess her opponents.
In the pen to her immediate left, a pure white beast paced about on all four paws. It stood up on its hind legs to explore the pen; it’s height nearly twice that of her. This must be the creature that decapitated Garkkikk. Its mouth appeared big enough. Glistening blood stains were still evident on the fur around its mouth and long white fangs. The thickness of its fur suggested it was from a cold environment. It would be uncomfortable here in the oppressive heat generated by the planet's core, but no less dangerous.
The next pen held three short and stocky soldiers from a world recently subjected to a visit from her people. Even though their uniforms were faded and dirty they gave her the impression that they were well trained and would work as a team. Each of them carried a small bronze coloured sword and a circular metal shield adorned with a fire breathing dragon.
The pen opposite her contain what appeared to be a family - a male, a female and a juvenile - unremarkable except for the shock of purple hair they all had, vividly contrasting with their snowy white skin colour. The man was the only one armed and then only with a short sword. He took up a stance suggesting he would die protecting his mate and offspring. His stance also told her he wasn’t a fighter. They are primitives; they pose no threat.
In the fourth pen a pack of feline animals - Tagras. Small animals with brilliant red eyes and gleaming yellow teeth, well known for their vicious nature. Black and orange striped fur made these creatures look magnificent as well as menacing. They would be fast and would work as a team.
The last pen had a single warrior. Large build, well armed and with a heavily armoured suit over black chainmail undergarments. Slow, but probably the most dangerous of this off world mix of creatures. Trophies brought back for the entertainment of the Zerot and to train their young. All that remained of long forgotten worlds raped and destroyed over the previous 2000 years.
***
Birjjikk weighed up her options. Individually, each cage would not present a problem to her. Although still not of full adult stature, she was fast and had an excellent grasp of the fighting skills so far taught to her. She was sure, though, that the elders would open the gates to make her work harder. Harder than her academy colleagues - her arrogance not being lost on them. That would mean two or three at a time. Maybe the animals together, or perhaps the warriors. Each option presented a different set of dynamics and dangers. Birjjikk curled up her top lip exposing her pointed teeth in what may have been construed as a smile.
She checked her weapons. Her left hand flicked up to just over her right shoulder, and her three taloned fingers lightly brushed the handle of her sword which was holstered diagonally to her back - wedged between the fourth and fifth protruding vertebrae. She had three sets of triple release throwing knives attached to her torso and in her right hand, she carried a swinging enscicer. The only technology she was allowed was a modulating force field. Unlike a full one, this would modulate through thought activation, switching between various points of her torso and only capable of defending single blows.
She straightened her head guard; a hard, leathery helmet that protected her sensitive hearing orifices on the side of her head and looped over the small horns just above her forehead. Attached to the side of the helmet was a final set of throwing knives. Close knit feathers protruded from the helmet and covered the middle of her back as far as the third vertebrae down.
She took a deep breath. She was ready.
200 Years Earlier.
Birjjikk strode into the arena. All life on this planet was now underground, the surface made inhabitable untold millennia before, following nuclear and biologic devastation. The amphitheatre shaped cave, carved into the granite rock, was adorned with six giant celestial monoliths spread evenly around the arena, bearing witness to the carnage carried out in this place. Equally spaced between the monoliths were six cages each with inner and outer gates. Five would release the unwilling victims of this gladiatorial showcase. Birjjikk had entered through the sixth as two hundred elders watched on. She stood there defiantly and looked up at them, her view sweeping around expansively. Most of them glanced away to avoid direct eye contact - feigning disinterest.
Today was the biggest day of her young life. Today would decide her future within the Zerot Collective. A poor performance and she would become a lower caste worker warrior - a Grunz - destined for a life of service in the collective, only slightly up from the slave caste. They would be frontline soldiers spearheading planetary violation task forces. That was not going to happen to her. Life with little estivation? A sacrificial soldier? She knew she was destined for better. Of the ten within her academy group, four were prime candidates for Grunz caste. The result of poor breeding over hundreds of years. Birjjikk’s natural parents, though not known personally to her, were said to be two renowned searchers. Better would be expected of her. They may even acknowledge her if she surpassed her potential, but that was of little concern to her.
***
Birjjikk glared around. She was last to go. Blood had already drenched the floor and walls, with chunks of bone and flesh still scattered around. Larger limbs and carcass’s already removed by the Grunz.
My academy comrades have been busy.
To one side up against the wall lay the mutilated body of one of her academy. Left there as a vivid reminder of the danger they faced. The chest plate insignia identical to the one she was wearing was plain to see - a blight on her academy’s performance today. Even decapitated she knew from his large frame it was Garkkikk. She looked down at what was left of him and sneered ‘Turdgutter! Not even worthy of becoming a Grunz’. But whatever kill him - lacerations caused by something akin to a massive bite rather than the clean cut of a blade - would require her careful attention.
***
Birjjikk’s concentration sharpened as the elders began taking their seats and a hush came over the arena.
She needed a strong performance to get into the next phase of training. Warrior caste would then be guaranteed, and her training would continue. The darker arts of killing and mental training would be on the syllabus - she desperately wanted this. And later maybe, she would complete her training and become a searcher, like her natural parents. Or better yet, become a player. Then and only then, would she enjoy the reals benefits of being a high caste Zerot: a longer life filled with estivation - prolonged dormancy - ensuring more time to plot and play the killing game.
***
The arena was now silent. The inner doors to the five pens opened and the combatants were shepherded in from the shadows by unseen Grunz. With the internal doors now closed, Birjjikk had a brief moment to assess her opponents.
In the pen to her immediate left, a pure white beast paced about on all four paws. It stood up on its hind legs to explore the pen; it’s height nearly twice that of her. This must be the creature that decapitated Garkkikk. Its mouth appeared big enough. Glistening blood stains were still evident on the fur around its mouth and long white fangs. The thickness of its fur suggested it was from a cold environment. It would be uncomfortable here in the oppressive heat generated by the planet's core, but no less dangerous.
The next pen held three short and stocky soldiers from a world recently subjected to a visit from her people. Even though their uniforms were faded and dirty they gave her the impression that they were well trained and would work as a team. Each of them carried a small bronze coloured sword and a circular metal shield adorned with a fire breathing dragon.
The pen opposite her contain what appeared to be a family - a male, a female and a juvenile - unremarkable except for the shock of purple hair they all had, vividly contrasting with their snowy white skin colour. The man was the only one armed and then only with a short sword. He took up a stance suggesting he would die protecting his mate and offspring. His stance also told her he wasn’t a fighter. They are primitives; they pose no threat.
In the fourth pen a pack of feline animals - Tagras. Small animals with brilliant red eyes and gleaming yellow teeth, well known for their vicious nature. Black and orange striped fur made these creatures look magnificent as well as menacing. They would be fast and would work as a team.
The last pen had a single warrior. Large build, well armed and with a heavily armoured suit over black chainmail undergarments. Slow, but probably the most dangerous of this off world mix of creatures. Trophies brought back for the entertainment of the Zerot and to train their young. All that remained of long forgotten worlds raped and destroyed over the previous 2000 years.
***
Birjjikk weighed up her options. Individually, each cage would not present a problem to her. Although still not of full adult stature, she was fast and had an excellent grasp of the fighting skills so far taught to her. She was sure, though, that the elders would open the gates to make her work harder. Harder than her academy colleagues - her arrogance not being lost on them. That would mean two or three at a time. Maybe the animals together, or perhaps the warriors. Each option presented a different set of dynamics and dangers. Birjjikk curled up her top lip exposing her pointed teeth in what may have been construed as a smile.
She checked her weapons. Her left hand flicked up to just over her right shoulder, and her three taloned fingers lightly brushed the handle of her sword which was holstered diagonally to her back - wedged between the fourth and fifth protruding vertebrae. She had three sets of triple release throwing knives attached to her torso and in her right hand, she carried a swinging enscicer. The only technology she was allowed was a modulating force field. Unlike a full one, this would modulate through thought activation, switching between various points of her torso and only capable of defending single blows.
She straightened her head guard; a hard, leathery helmet that protected her sensitive hearing orifices on the side of her head and looped over the small horns just above her forehead. Attached to the side of the helmet was a final set of throwing knives. Close knit feathers protruded from the helmet and covered the middle of her back as far as the third vertebrae down.
She took a deep breath. She was ready.
