The Rask Rebellion

The procession stopped at a pair of giant doors that blocked the hallway. They were hewn from something akin to oak or mahogany, their varnished surfaces engraved with sprawling scenes of warfare, the battling figures skewering one another with spears and swords. It was magnificent, and a little foreboding. Korbaz's guards must have felt the same way because they were shifting their weight nervously, glancing to one another for reassurance. Right now, they were probably praying that they had backed the right horse in this race.

"This is the Matriarch's audience chamber," Korbaz explained. "Once we step through these doors, there will be no turning back."

Cooper had learned to recognize when she was suppressing her emotions, and he had to fight the urge to take her hand and squeeze it. He had joked about being her emotional support monkey, but he might have landed closer to the mark than he had realized. That was why she had wanted him by her side, for reassurance, for support. He had seen flashes of fear whenever she spoke of her interactions with the Matriarch, and now she was about to face her.

"Hey," he whispered, nudging her thigh with his elbow. "You've got this, this is what we've been preparing for. You're gonna go in there, and you're gonna lay some fucking Kung Fu moves on that cunt, knock her out."

She nodded, taking a deep breath, then pushed the heavy doors open. They creaked on their old hinges as they swung ajar, Korbaz marching through with renewed confidence, Cooper and her entourage following behind her.

They entered a vast chamber, their footsteps echoing on the black marble floor. The central dome of the palace rose a good thirty feet into the air above their heads, pillars carved from solid chunks of black marble ringing the circular room to support its immense weight, as stout as tree trunks. The usual sandstone construction was less obvious here, obscured by flowing drapes similar to those that he had seen in the crawler, the luxuriant fabrics meeting at the apex of the dome to form a kind of tent. Between each pillar was a stone pedestal that was topped with a ceramic pan, flames licking from the burning coals that filled them. They were the only source of light in the chamber, casting long, wavering shadows.

There were more guards in this room, standing to attention with their rifles in hand beside the pillars like silent sentinels. Their presence worried him for a moment, but then he remembered what Korbaz had said about Rask negotiations. Bringing a legion of heavily-armed soldiers was normal protocol. Their opaque visors followed the entourage as they made their way across the room, Cooper feeling their eyes on his back.

At the opposite end of the room was a raised platform, the oversized steps that led up to it made from the same black, shiny marble as the floor. Sitting atop it was a massive throne carved from a single block of red stone, veins of white ore giving it the appearance of raw meat. It was just as ornately carved as everything else, the armrests sculpted to resemble the snarling heads of Rask hounds.

There was one of the creatures sitting to the right of it, its expressionless, beady eyes watching them as they approached. Its pointed ears tracked them, its drooping lips pulling back to expose a pair of warthog-like tusks in a snarl, strings of saliva hanging from its jowls. Its long snout was covered in faded scars, the knitted flesh visible beneath its covering of coarse fur, as though others of its kind had scored it with their teeth. It was far larger than the ones that the Rask had set on Cooper, almost as tall as a man at the shoulder, the hump on its back swollen with fat. Was this one a pet?

Occupying the throne, sitting on a bed of purple cushions, was the Matriarch. Korbaz had warned him that she was large, but he hadn't appreciated what that really meant until now. She was a monster, skirting nine feet, the sheer weight of her body probably approaching seven hundred pounds. Korbaz was a giant to Cooper, and the Matriarch made even her look small and insubstantial in comparison.

Her tanned skin was peppered with old scars wherever it was visible, and one of her yellow eyes was covered by a leather patch, oddly fitting for a pirate queen. Her mane of sandy hair was long enough to reach her shoulders, shining like a waterfall of gold as the light from the blazing fires reflected off it. She wasn't as regal as he had been expecting, she had no jewel-studded crown, no elaborate uniform. Her getup was similar to that of her counterparts, though it was of notably higher quality. The leather jacket that she wore was lined with what looked like purple velvet, the padding visible on the inside of the high collar, the clasps made from shining gold. It was embossed with more of their strange, medieval battle scenes, intricately embroidered with purple and gold threads. It was like a biker jacket designed by a Saudi prince. She had a purple sash across her chest, just like Korbaz, but the Matriarch's was weighed down by even more medals and accolades.

Her pants were just as form-fitting as he had come to expect, and her belt had golden buckles, the arsenal of weapons that dangled from it of similarly exquisite craftsmanship. She had a bulky revolver on her hip that had been beautifully damascened, floral patterns weaving their way along its thick barrel in silver and gold, the grip made from either ivory or mother of pearl.

Cooper wasn't sure what kind of reaction he had been expecting, but the Matriarch greeted them with a smile that made his blood run cold.

"My most trusted advisor has returned," she cooed, her husky voice resonating through the chamber. "Welcome home, Admiral."

He glanced at Korbaz, hoping that her nerve would hold. She had spent her career under the thumb of this woman, defying her went against her every instinct, everything that had been instilled in her by a lifetime of submission.

"I have come to present my challenge," she snarled, balling up her fists to hide the tremor in her hands.

"So I have heard," the Matriarch replied, seeming more amused than angry. She shifted her weight in her chair, drumming her sharp claws on the armrest. "For a little while, I thought that you had carried out my order, that you had fulfilled your purpose and earned a glorious death as befitted your station. I didn't hear from you or any of the Crewmasters again after I gave you my decree. Then, I began to hear whispers, rumors spoken in the shadows. Those faithful to me informed me that a conspiracy was afoot, that an insidious, cowardly plot to usurp me was being hatched in secret. They told me that Admiral Korbaz was returning to claim my throne. Soon, it was no longer a whisper. It was talked of openly by the commoners in the market, by the ministers in my own halls."

She stood suddenly, the marble platform only adding to her imposing height, Korbaz fighting against her impulse to bow her head.

"I should have had you thrown from the deck of the Wildfire the moment that your resolve faltered," the Matriarch hissed. "At the merest hint of cowardice, of hesitation, I should have demoted you on the spot. That failing is mine. I should have realized to what extent your time with the humans had corrupted your character. Now, you march on your own Matriarch with an army of interlopers at your back. You would cling to any desperate hope of survival rather than carry out the duties that you swore to uphold."

"You are no longer the Matriarch I pledged to serve!" Korbaz bellowed, her ears flattening against her head. "The moment I returned home, I sensed that something was wrong. I should have trusted my instincts," she added with a solemn shake of her head. "There was a time when you put the needs of others above your own, when you cared for every pack as though they were your littermates. You accuse me of dereliction of duty," she snapped, pointing an accusing finger at the Matriarch. "But what of your duties? What of the people of this territory, the ones who you swore to protect? We can no longer raid as we once did, and the outlying villages suffer because of it. Packs go to bed with empty bellies, the common folk lack the most basic necessities, and all the while you dream of war and glory. While kittens cry for milk, you empty the palace vaults, wasting resources on nothing but your own ego! You send our loyal warriors into battle, knowing full well that they cannot win, and you abandon the invalid to their fates!"

"Your arrogance knows no bounds," the Matriarch replied, her brow furrowing as her anger began to mount. "You presume to know the plight of the 'common folk', but where were you while they toiled? Sitting on your behind in the lap of luxury, pampered by your human attendants, your only responsibility to attend banquets and sip wine."

"An assignment that you gave me!" Korbaz shot back. "It was no pleasure cruise. I, too, have toiled for the advancement of our people. More than you know."

"If you are here at all, it is because of me," the Matriarch snarled. "I built you up, I made you who you are today. If not for me, you would still be a lowly Crewmaster sailing a rickety sandship, raiding trading caravans for a pittance. Even at the end, when your failures had cost me my fleet, I gave you mercy. Stories of your deeds would have been told down the ages, tapestries would have been woven in your honor, songs would have been sung of your exploits. Instead, you chose dishonor, you let cowardice overcome you. There will be no stories told of Admiral Korbaz, not now. Your name will be as dust on the wind."

"I have a story for you," Cooper interjected, growing weary of hearing her monologue. Korbaz had to physically prevent herself from planting her face in her hand, the Matriarch's yellow eye slowly turning to him. "Ever heard the one about the Matriarch who got her fucking head kicked in?"

"You must be the alien who was promised to me as a gift," she replied, looking him up and down in the same way that one might examine a juicy steak before biting into it. "Korbaz has good taste, if nothing else. I defeated her once before, you know. Did she tell you that?"

He glanced at Korbaz, seeing that her cheeks were warming.

"She wasn't challenging my position back then, of course," the Matriarch continued. "It was just part of finding her a place in the hierarchy. I might have kept her for my harem if she did not show such promise. I suspect that you are already well-acquainted with her skilled tongue," she added with a sneer. "No amount of soap will wash her scent off you. Maybe I'll keep you both when I'm done with her, I'm sure you'll provide me with hours of amuse-."
"You talk a lot of shit," Cooper replied, interrupting her. He crossed his arms as she scowled at him, the insult not lost on her. "Sounds like you're stalling to me."

"Tell me, Admiral," she began, sauntering over to the stroke the enormous head of her snarling pet. "Do you believe in fate?"

"Fate?" Korbaz repeated, narrowing her eyes at the Matriarch.

"So many who have challenged me did," she continued, running her clawed fingers through the spines that rose up from the hound's neck. "They believed that they were driven by some divine purpose, that they were fated to do this, or destined for that." She scoffed, scratching the beast behind one of its furry ears, the creature pushing its enormous skull into her hand affectionately. "But we Rask know that life does not work that way. We know that nothing is given freely, nothing is ever achieved without sacrifice. There is no deity who will intervene on our behalf to curtail our suffering. What we have, and all that we are, is what we make of it. What we can take."

Her grip on the beast tightened, her yellow eye smoldering like a hot coal in the wavering firelight, the creature lying still.

"This planet will not nurse us at her bosom as she did for the Araxie and the Elysians. No, she has shown our people only cruelty, only hardship. But, as the old adage goes, the strict mother raises disciplined children. There is no harsher mistress than the desert, and none are more disciplined than we. That is why we will prevail."

The hound yelped as she dug her claws into its neck, twisting it, pushing its nose into the marble platform that supported her throne. Blood soaked its fur, the great beast whimpering, shivering as she brutalized it. The animal could probably have torn out her throat with ease, but she had complete mastery over it, fear and loyalty compelling it to obey her just as her people had.

"Sacrifices must be made if we are to preserve our way of life," she hissed. "This war was never going to be easy, but we cannot allow petty sentimentality to lead our hearts astray. We are accustomed to hardship, and we will overcome it, just as we always have. What is the life of a villager or a single warrior when compared to bringing about prosperity that will last for generations?"

"Stop it!" Cooper bellowed, his shout echoing through the audience chamber. The Matriarch drew back, her furious gaze turning to him, the dog cowering on the ground as she released her hold on it. Seeing her hurt that thing had made him see red, adrenaline flooding his veins. It might be an ugly cunt that would probably eat his face off if given the chance, but it was just an animal.

"You see it in him, do you not?" the Matriarch asked as she gestured to Cooper with her bloodied claws. "The sentimentality of which I speak? The Coalition would have us weak, cowed, they prefer their allies dependent and subservient. They will help and help until we can no longer fend for ourselves, until we forget what it means to be Rask. And if you think that they will let you rule from this throne, Korbaz, then you are truly lost."

"Enough!" she snarled. The Matriarch's ears pricked up as Korbaz tore off her purple sash, the medals clattering on the marble floor as she tossed it at the foot of the steps. She opened her leather jacket, shrugging it off, and thrusting it into Cooper's hands. He would have protested, but this was her big moment, and he didn't want to distract her. Next came her belt, which she handed off to one of her guards, freeing herself of the heavy weaponry. Did that mean that negotiations were now over? She was wearing only her pants and tank top now, her tail whipping back and forth behind her.

Her muscles flexed as she rolled her shoulders, cracking her neck, stretching her claws as she took up a defensive stance. Cooper recognized it as one that Reyes and Sawyer had taught her, her eyes fixed on her opponent, unwavering.

The Matriarch slowly descended from her throne, her claws clicking on the marble steps, looming ever larger as she neared. She was like a Titan straight out of Greek mythology, her bulging muscles visible beneath her tight-fitting clothing, her imposing figure lit by the flickering flames that ringed the room. While standing, she was tall enough that Cooper's shoulders would be a little above waist level, her arms as long as his damned legs. Her biceps were the size of his head, their outline clearly visible beneath the sleeves of her jacket. Her clawed paws were akin to those of a grizzly bear, her toes splaying to carry her weight, her curved talons like black meat hooks. She came to a stop at the foot of the throne, reaching into her pocket, Cooper bristling. Instead of withdrawing a weapon, she pulled an ivory hair clip from her pocket, trying back her lion's mane of golden locks into a tight ponytail.

He noticed that Korbaz's entourage were all stepping back, forming a wide circle, the Palace Guard moving away from their posts to join them. Cooper thought it best to do the same, scooting clear as Korbaz and the Matriarch began to circle one another, clutching her jacket in his arms.

"What makes you think that you can prevail today when you succumbed to me in your prime?" Korbaz sneered as they squared off. She was hunched over like a beast, her arms splayed wide, her head low as she scrutinized Korbaz with her one eye. "You've been living in low gravity, no doubt neglecting your training, growing fat on human luxuries. It has made you soft both in body and mind."

"I have not been idle since our last bout," Korbaz replied, matching her movements. "You judge me as the person I was, not the one that I have become."

"You should be grateful that a part of me still sees you as you were," the Matriarch hissed. "Not as this sentimental, short-sighted traitor that stands before me now."

Cooper had expected some kind of protocol, something more...official in nature than what was transpiring. They really were going to just beat the shit out of each other to decide the fate of a nation.

The Matriarch was the first to strike, closing the distance between them with a single step, throwing all of her weight behind a vicious swipe that was aimed at her opponent's head. Korbaz ducked out of its path, the whistling claws blowing her hair like a summer's breeze as they passed her by. It was a blow that would have soundly decapitated a human. She followed up with a second strike, her lips pulled back to expose her sharp teeth, Korbaz dancing out of range again. It was almost like she was boxing, had she learned that from her drunken fight with him?

The Matriarch advanced, her claws whipping out with such speed that Cooper could barely see them, the wicked talons little more than a blur. Korbaz was focusing on evading, just as her instructors had taught her. Borealans didn't have much stamina, and the Matriarch was especially large. If Korbaz could bait her into enough fruitless attacks, perhaps she could tire her out, which would make her a lot easier to deal with.

The giant feline feinted, surprising Korbaz with a swipe from an unexpected angle. She blocked the blow with her forearms, deflecting its immense power in the nick of time, the impact sending her skidding across the floor. Her claws screeched as she dug them into the marble for purchase, steadying herself as the Matriarch wet her lips.

Taking advantage of the moment, the tyrant pressed the attack, harrying her opponent with a flurry of vicious swipes. Korbaz did her best to block them, to deflect them, but one of them finally found its mark. The Matriarch's long claws bit into her flesh, drawing bloody furrows in her furry forearm. Dark blood drenched her sandy coat, droplets of it splattering on the floor, but Korbaz barely flinched. The circle of onlookers widened as she retreated further, dodging and weaving, the Matriarch growing visibly frustrated. Good, her fury would make her clumsy and impulsive...

"You cannot run forever!" the Matriarch hissed, narrowly missing her with another powerful swing. "Even your dueling style is that of a coward!"

She lunged again, and this time, Korbaz caught her forearm. She let the Matriarch's momentum carry her, sidestepping her, and pushing her away. Her opponent barreled past her like a freight train, struggling to regain her balance, wheeling her mass back around as the onlookers scurried clear. Confusion furrowed her brow, the Matriarch sizing up her opponent with renewed caution.

Blood still dripping from the trio of open wounds on her arm, Korbaz steadied herself, raising her hands as she took a defensive stance. Her adversary charged in, but once again, Korbaz caught the sleeve of her leather jacket. This time, she leveraged the Matriarch's weight and momentum to send her toppling to the floor, tripping her in a judo throw. The seven-hundred-pound creature hit the ground like a sack of bricks, her entire body seeming to quake as she landed hard on her shoulder. She was on her feet again in the blink of an eye, but this time, she kept her distance warily.