Protectors of the Realm

The blood elf sat nervously picking at a chip on the surface of the old table, the chair he was sitting in having seen better days with its upholstered surfaces torn and frayed. The small room in the tavern at Booty Bay was lit by only a single candle, the guttering flame casting harsh shadows across the wooden walls and briefly highlighting the tattered paintings that were supposed to give the room 'character' now and again.

The door to the room opened softly, the low sound almost enough to make the blood elf dart up out of his seat, his fel green eyes studying the newcomer closely. To hide his discomfort, he shifted in place, adjusting his red and golden robes and moving one of his pouches of spell components slightly, keeping it in easy reach.

The newcomer, a human male that was getting on in years, held up his hands with his palms outward as a sign of peace, a bleak smile hiding beneath his long gray beard as he walked over to the table and sat down. The blood elf dipped his head once in acknowledgement of the newcomer, gesturing to an unopened bottle of wine and two glasses nearby.

"No, thank you," the old man said. "I feel it best to conduct our business quickly and without any muddy-headedness that such swill might bring. We are in a goblin run town after all."

The blood elf nodded, no smile passing across his own face as he replied, "As you wish; I'd as soon be done with our business as well. It is a shame that times are different and we are forced to hide in such hovels."

The old man nodded, his face dour now, "It is indeed dark days for those who once lived in Dalaran. That old colleagues must meet in secrecy is a crime against the Art itself I think. Regardless, we still live and can continue our work. We simply must do so in...unfortunate settings. I have brought the artifact that we discussed. You can take it to your own laboratory and we'll compare notes once you have analyzed it yourself. I feel confident that our temporal shielding spells are far superior to those now in existence."

The blood elf nodded and a brief smile passed across his lips, "Let's see it. I'm eager to continue my work, regardless of the fact that the Sunreavers are no longer welcome amongst the others. We will prove that we can still do some good with our studies."

The old man nodded, reaching into a belt pouch and removing a small necklace with an amulet attached to it. The magical artifact glowed dimly in the darkness of the tavern room, and the blood elf leaned over it, studying it thoughtfully, his long blonde hair falling around his face.

Just as he reached for it, a sizzling sound began to grow in the room. Starting as a low hiss, it rose in volume, attracting the eyes of both human and blood elf to the closed door. There, strange blue lights began to flicker around the edges of the portal, the hissing and popping noises increasing.

"You warded the door as we agreed, yes?" the old man murmured in concern.

"Just as we discussed. Only the pass-coin I gave you would allow anyone to pass through the doorframe while we are both in here. Someone is trying to deactivate my wards," the blood elf replied.

The old man opened his mouth to reply when the light around the door blazed brightly once and the door suddenly burst open, slamming against the wall with a great deal of force. A figure moved in the doorway, and both human and blood elf rose as it advanced into the room, the blood elf pulling out a wand menacingly.

The person, for it was a human woman, advanced through the doorway, a hand reaching out and manicured nails digging into the wood of the door as she forcefully slammed it behind her, sealing the portal once more. The candle nearly went out from the wind of the door's closing, weird shadows dancing around the room as the woman stared at the two.

Red hair framed a face that was lightly tanned from the sun, the locks artfully arranged in one of the latest styles seen in the House of Nobles in Stormwind. Green eyes studied the two figures, ruby red lips curled into a smile as she observed the damning evidence of the amulet that still rested on the table between them.

"And so it comes to this; where once there was loyalty to magic and all it could produce, now there is treachery with those who have proven themselves time and again to be incapable of handling magic with any degree of safety," the woman intoned harshly.

"Brithany..." the old man whispered. "B-but how did you track me here? W-why..?"

"I have suspected you for some time, Master," the woman replied, the smile leaving her face now. "Did you think that I would fail to notice your sudden disappearances? Your late-evening appointments that you didn't think to notify me about? Do you think the others have not seen, do not know? We are learned men and women; you cannot fool us easily or, in this case, at all. And here I find you, engaged in treachery."

The old man's face grew stern as he stood before the young woman. Although she was fully trained and a mage in her own right, she was in her early twenties and brash as they came at that age, especially given her noble bloodline. "There was a time when conferring with our brethren amongst the Sunreavers was not something that would be called 'treachery', and I do not believe that you've the right to judge me as it is; you left my service last year so my business is none of yours."

The woman smiled, the expression devoid of all humor as she studied the older man, "When you engage in activities that could threaten the realm, it becomes my business. The Sunreavers are criminals who aided in genocide. To parlay with them is to incriminate yourself. You will surrender to me and be taken before the House of Nobles where they can see the facts and evidence and judge your guilt or innocence."

"I will do no such thing. You will leave this place, Brithany, and allow us to conclude our business," the old man said sternly. "You have no authority here."

The red-haired woman frowned, her eyes wide now and staring, as if madness gripped her, "I was not asking you. Last chance, Master."

Tension built in the room, as the three squared off, the two humans staring at each other and the blood elf aiming his wand. In a fraction of a second, the peace was shattered as the woman moved her hands outward abruptly, causing the blood elf to discharge his wand.

Bolts of magic flew across the space between elf and human, magic flaring to life around her as wards sewn into her expensive looking dress flickered into existence. The magic bolts were absorbed and their energy forced down into the floor, burning the wood around her feet. Her own spell lashed out, a blast of arcane energies slamming into the old man and throwing him backwards. His own wards flared to life and absorbed much of the spell, but the force of the blast threw him over his chair, slamming his back into the floor and forcing the breath from his lungs.

The blood elf moved to fire his wand again, but the woman was faster, a second spell slashing out and striking the weapon. The wand detonated in the elf's hands, the blast mangling his fingers and arm and causing him to drop to the floor, howling in pain.

Gasping, the old man struggled to untangle himself from the chair, his vision blurry from the forceful impact with the furniture and then the floor. He heard a noise and squinted, his eyesight coming back into focus on a pair of designer shoes, the hem of a red dress hanging just above them and a golden ankle bracelet glinting in the dim light. He looked up, and Brithany stared down at him, cold fury in her eyes.

"Those who betray Stormwind betray the King and all he protects. You betray humanity itself, Master. Your time has come to an end," Brithany stated, her voice flat. "Go to the afterlife, where relics of the past must rest."

Her hand came up and bolt of arcane magic struck the man in the chest, killing him instantly. Brithany stepped over him, circling the table, her manicured nails dragging ominously across the table's surface as she loomed over the wounded elf. He looked up at her from where he had fallen on the floor, his mangled arm bleeding profusely.

"You'll never get away with this madness! You cannot just slay two mages in the middle of the town like this! Your own people will execute you when they find out!" the blood elf yelled at her.

The woman smiled, bending low so she could examine the wounded elf's arm. Her tone was almost cheerful now as she replied, "And yet, I did nothing wrong. I am home at my estate, about to have my afternoon tea even now. I do wonder why you had to go and kill my Master however. Typical evil behavior from one of your kind, and not at all unexpected. He should have known better than to deal with you and yours."

With that she brought her hand up again, another bolt of magic flaring to life in the room. The blood elf's corpse thudded against the ground lifelessly, and she stepped over him, her hand reaching out to grab the amulet that had sat between the two.

She held it up, studying it for a moment before slipping it into a pouch, her gaze returning to the two fallen mages in the dim room. "And so now you know the price for treachery. What the blood elves did will never be forgotten, never be forgiven for as long as I draw breath. I will kill every last one of them if need be, until they can wield magic no longer, until they cry out for mercy. Rest well, Master, and know that the skills you taught me as a child will be put to use for justice."

With that, the red haired woman reached out and snuffed out the candle between two fingers, her heels thudding on the floor as she casually strolled out of the room. Behind her in the darkness she left a familiar crime scene in a place like Booty Bay; two mages with a deal gone bad had killed each other, and the goblin pirates would care not a wit as they looted the corpses and dumped them in the ocean.

Such were the things Brithany had to do for her people, to keep them safe from themselves.  

Arrivals- A Nexus Tale

*Close Nexus Orbit, Arrivals Queue*

"I'm sorry, Lady Solarius, but your ship's manifest does not list that equipment, and some of it is rather...out of the ordinary," the Mechari's voice sounded through the ship's intercom. The robotic voice, normally tinny anyway, was made more so by the way it was altered by the intercom's speakers. Not that Cassandri could hear the voice very well with the heavy metal music she has blasting in the Starclaw's cockpit.

"Are you serious right now? You do realize that this ship is bloody Highborn property and that I've been waiting in queue for three hours right?" Cassandri replied, glaring at the ship that hovered a few hundred meters away from the glass of the Starclaw's viewing port.

Although she sounded angry, Cassandri was reclining in her pilot's chair, her combat-boot clad feet up on one of the control consoles as she idly filed her nails. She frowned as she looked at them, realizing that the waiting had made her impatiently bite some of the black nailpolish off; she'd have to fix them later.

"We apologize for the delay, Lady Solarius, but as you can imagine a lot of equipment is being offloaded from the Destiny right now," the Mechari replied in a monotone voice. "As you can see by the line of transport ships ahead of you, we are a little backlogged. That being said, Class 5 weapon pods are not standard issue for your vessel and we need to examine them and your licenses before you can proceed. I'll have a security vessel dock with you shortly so it can be sorted out and you can be on your way."

Cassandri shook her head, her eyes rolling as the Mechari's voice continued to chitter on. She brushed some of her long black hair out of her face in frustration before setting her nailfile down and giving the patrol vessel out in space a lewd gesture. Even as she did so, a flash of light flickered from the corner of her view and streaked across space, the laser beam striking the patrol craft and blowing it into pieces in a second.

Startled and wide-eyed, Cassandri nearly jumped out of her seat, sitting ramrod straight as the sound of broken bits of what was once the patrol craft pinged harmlessly off the Starclaw's hull. "Bloody hellllllllll....."

Even as she murmured to herself, the shape of another ship drifted down, maneuvering thrusters steadying it as it took up the position that the Dominion patrol craft had just recently occupied. Compared to the gold and red, sleek ship that had just been communicating with Cassandri, the craft she now viewed was an abomination of scrapped together parts and improvised weapon systems. Floodlights came on as the marauder vessel examined Cassandri's ship, several of them shining into her cockpit and making her eyes water. She held a hand up to block some of the light, muttering more curses.

"Well well, a cargo ship full of plunder, and a little lovely thing flying it," a rather gruff voice came through the comm. "Looks like this little raid is gonna pay off big time."

The floodlights dimmed and Cassandri could see the blue-gray alien that was piloting the other craft clearly now, the two vessels only a few dozen meters apart. In the distance, more streaks of lights showed additional marauder ships closing in with Dominion vessels in what appeared to be a full scale pirate raid. The comm buzzed again and the voice was mocking now, "Prepare to be boarded little lady. We'll be takin' what we like."

Cassandri smiled through the glass of her cockpit, offering the pirate a demure little wave before jabbing a finger down on a red button on the console in front of her. Her voice was almost a lustful purr when she responded, "This is going to be fun."

To the pirate's surprise, the sides of the Starclaw opened in several places, more than a dozen weapon systems folding out into space. There was a heavy whine as laser capacitors began to charge, and on the bridge of Cassandri's ship a beeping sound began to repeat over and over again until becoming a solid tone as her ship's missiles locked onto target.

For a brief second, neither marauder nor Highborn moved, the two ships menacing each other at point blank range. The pirate's voice, when it came through the intercomm, was shakey now, "Look...this don't need to get violent little lady. Just take it easy now and we-"

"Goodbye!" Cassandri said cheerfully, pressing another button on her console.

In a second lasers flashed from the Starclaw into the marauder's vessel, the first few hits dissipating on the raider's shields. Return fire from the enemy ship was harmlessly reflected by Cassandri's own shields, both ships losing some power as their vessels struggled to maintain their protections. Unfortunately for the raider, Cassandri's ship was equipped with the best engines, shield modules, and weapons that money could buy, and her ship effortlessly reconfigured the shield to full power, deflecting additional shots.

The third barrage from the Starclaw disabled the raider's shields, allowing the barrage of missiles that followed to strike its hull directly. The ship disappeared in a glowing ball of expanding gasses as it was vaporized, metallic pings ringing through Cassandri's ship for a second time as more debris struck her hull.

Cassandri quickly sunk back into her pilot's chair, her hands grasping the control stick and yanking back on it. She had no time to warn the rest of her crew as the Starclaw lurched into motion, and she could hear cursing and the crash of unsecured cargo falling deep within her vessel. There was no time to worry about that though as another laser streaked through space, narrowly missing the tail end of her ship as she quickly accelerated. Bits of the destroyed marauder vessel bounced off her hull as she pass through the debris field, a second raider vessel hot on her tail.

Cassandri grinned, the thrill of the chase making her heart pound in her chest as she gunned her ship's afterburners. Behind her, the raider struggled to catch up, a barrage of laser fire flickering in space around her. Cassandri threw her ship into a barrel roll, the enemy fire narrowly missing the Starclaw's stubby wingtips.

Ahead of her, a large transport ship was struggling to break formation from the arrivals queue as another raider attempted to board it. With a wicked smile on her face, Cassandri pressed the firing stud on her control stick, watching as half a dozen missiles flashed through space and collided with the slowly moving raider vessel. It exploded, and Cassandri brought her ship down low around the edges of the blast, hugging the side of the transport ship even as laser fire from her pursuer burned holes in its hull.

With a grunt Cassandri yanked the stick hard to the right, sending her ship into a roll around the edge of the transport ship and narrowly avoiding one of the protruding control towers on the vessel. Behind her, the raider attempted to follow her, the less maneuverable vessel flying out wide and losing sight of Cassandri's ship as it flew around the curve of the transport vessel again.

As she reached the 'horizon' of the transport ship's curve, Cassandri pressed a second button on her control stick, sending out thousands of inert flechette rounds out of a port just below the Starclaw's tailfin. As the marauder attempted to catch up with Cassandri and rounded the curve of the transport ship's hull, it intersected with the fast moving projectiles, the little bits of sharpened metal shredding the nose of the pirate ship and sending it into a roll as it lost all control. Secondary explosions rocked the vessel as Cassandri cut back on her ship's throttle and let it sail past her. With a triumphant shout she put a few laser rounds into the already-doomed vessel before turning the nose of her ship.

In space around her, the raiders had already begun to disengage from the fight; they were not there to fight a huge space battle and with three of their ships destroyed and Dominion security likely on the way in force, they had to cut their losses. All that is, except for one marauder that had attached itself to a large transport ship some distance up the line of queued vessels. Cassandri engaged her thrusters again, heading towards the pirates.

She found the vessel snugly secured to the outside of the Dominion transport, and when she scanned the ship, marauder comm signals were detected throughout the ship's bridge and main cargo holds. Cassandri pressed the firing stud on her control stick, sending thousands of laser rounds into the docked marauder vessel and detonating the small craft where it lay against the transport's side. Although the transport would have serious scorching and one of its airlocks was now non-functional, the ship was still intact and, provided the marauders could be removed, would still be valuable to the Dominion.

With a grin, Cassandri brough her ship closer, her display screen showing that there were no marauders in the engine rooms yet. It was time for a boarding action....

*********************************

The captain of the marauder vessel was having a bad day. It had started out well enough of course, what with the destruction of the Dominion patrol craft and the successful boarding of what was likely going to be a loot-rich transport ship. They'd taken out the crew on the main decks and bridge with no problem, even capturing a few of the choicer Dominion citizens for sale later.

No, the problems began when a loud explosion rocked the vessel and threw everyone to the deck. Since then, the emergency airlock doors had closed, cutting him and his men off from their ship; a ship which now was not answering any hails on their comms.

To top it off, the transport ship's engineering crew had sealed themselves in the engine room, and now they had to cut through a solid bulkhead to reach them. He and his men crouched in long corridor that lead to the engine rooms, one of the marauders using a torch in an attempt to cut through the thick metal. It was taking too long, and they were running out of time. If something had happened to their vessel, they needed to complete their capture of the transport ship and get out of this area of space quickly.

Just as the pirate captain began to become really impatient, the bulkhead door that his men had been trying to cut through slid open, the locks activated from the other side. Standing in the doorway was a Cassian woman, her body clad in a mechanical, armored Exo-suit designed for ship boarding exercises. Surrounded by what could almost be called an army of combat bots, she held a heavy gun in her hand.

Through the holographic display screen that painted targeting markers on all of the marauders, the pirate captain could see the woman smile, a glitter of joy in her blue eyes as she pumped a round into the chamber of her gun. Targeting lasers played over his men from the woman and her bots, weapons whining as they powered up.

And then the firefight began.

*********************************

Hours later Cassandri reclined in her pilot's chair, one leg draped over the armrest as she casually ate an apple. Around her space began to lighten, the atmosphere of Nexus beginning to burn off around the Starclaw as the ship descended towards the surface below. It had been a good trip from Cassus, and an eventful one. Fun enough to take Cassandri's mind off her romance troubles back home, and profitable to boot as well when she was thanked personally by the Dominion strike force captain that had come too late to rescue the transport vessels in space. She'd brought honor to the Solarius family name, and she saw it as a good omen for her adventures on this new world.

Besides, the Dominion captain had been pretty cute, and she'd gotten his number. With a grin she tossed her apple core into the trash incinerator beside her and sat up in her chair, grasping the control stick and guiding her ship towards the piece of land she'd purchased. There she would have a base constructed, and begin her work for the Dominion in earnest.

Divine Intervention

"Many will tell you that the Light is a force that can be guided, controlled, or directed. They may tell you that if you are unable to channel it in a certain way, this speaks towards a lack of faith or some other fault in your character. This cannot be further from the truth, for the Light loves all of us equally. When the Light chooses to manifest itself, it is a special blessing and is not one that can simply be called down at will. The Light chooses to intervene when and where it is most needed, and we are but its instrument, its vessel for it to manifest its will. Once, and only once, I was the recipient of a most miraculous blessing; a rare gift that few are given. This does not make me more 'powerful' in the Light or more blessed, it simply means that I was in the right place at the right time to best aid its cause. That I was able to do so makes me feel humbled, for I am as unworthy a vessel as any other."
~An excerpt from the memoirs of Britanielle 'Britany' Dawnblaze, Paladin of the Argent Crusade.

*Several years ago. Icecrown campaign. An ambush at an Argent Crusade camp.*

Pain like Britany had never experienced flowed through her body, blackening the edges of her vision as she lay on the cold, frozen ground. The gray sky above her drove snow down upon her and the others who fought on the plains, the flakes sticking to the bare flesh of her face. It was not something she paid much attention to however. Instead, her sole focus as her vision began to fade was the arrow protruding from her chest, the bloody black shaft pointing up towards the sky above.

A shadow loomed over her, the figure fuzzy even from four feet away as the loss of blood and shock of what was likely a mortal wound made it difficult for Britany to focus. The figure leaned down over her, Frederick's human face appearing above her and shouting something, her name perhaps? His voice, though loud, seemed like it was a thousand miles away, lost in the swirling echoes of the battle against the Scourge that raged around them.

She tried to respond, to say something, anything to him to ease his pain at what would likely be her passing. Instead the only thing that happened was that blood gurgled up from her lungs, flowing out of her mouth and down her chin and nearly choking her. She sputtered and coughed, the action sending a wave of unbelievable agony through her from the wound she'd received. The arrow had struck her in the left breast, and although it must not have pierced her heart when it penetrated her armor, it most certainly had hit something important judging by the amount of blood. Her time was short now indeed.

Frederick leaned closer, trying to wipe the blood away from her mouth, his face ashen with shock both at the sudden ambush and at her grievous injury. His mouth was set in a grim line, and she could see the tale of her fate in his eyes. With a start he looked up in surprise at something she could not see, and he rose suddenly, his sword coming up to parry a blow from a runesword that would have crushed his skull.

He stumbled out of her ever-narrowing field of view, the bulky form of an armored troll death knight swiftly following, the two locked in mortal combat. Britany took another shallow breath, careful not to set off a coughing fit that would likely be her last. Above her she saw a point of light in her vision, and knew it was not really there, that she was seeing the end of her days.

The soft light grew brighter, blotting out her view of reality for a moment. She could almost hear it whispering to her, comforting her. She could hear the muted whispering of her husband, her children in its glimmering shine. For a moment she felt their love, she felt peace, and then a deep, terrible sadness set into her.

In that moment she came to know from the whispering light that she could make a grim choice. She could surrender to her pain, to the wound and go on into that light and rest forever, or she could endure the most unbearable suffering she had ever experienced to serve the Light one more time.

She was tempted to just let go; she would not be judged for being unable to continue on, she knew this. The Light was love, was peace. Her vision briefly faded in and out, and distantly she saw Frederick stumble over uneven terrain, the death knight looming up over him as he fell. In that moment, she knew the Light's will and made her choice.

With her last remaining vestiges of strength, Britany reached down, grasping the handle of her morning star and dragging it up so the end of it was near her face. The leather loop that was on the end of the handle draped over her, and she opened her mouth, biting into it. She released the morning star, her teeth firm on the leather strap as she called forth the Light within her. One of her hands glowed brightly as her other grasped the shaft of the arrow. She braced herself for what was to come, for what she had to do to see the Light's will done.

She tore the arrow free.

Her gurgling scream was loud, floating out into the general mayhem of the battle and joining other cries of victory and defeat. Her teeth bit through the strap, and her eyes saw nothing but blackness for a moment. Blood spurted from her wound, the arterial pressure high enough to make it jump out of her in pulses. One pulse, two pulses, she knew the third would be her last as she pressed her glowing hand to her chest. The spell, a sacred laying on of hands, was the most powerful a paladin could cast; one that required intense focus and could be used only rarely and at great cost to the paladin using it. The Holy Light flowed into her body, instantly snapping the wound closed and stopping the flow of blood.

For a moment, Britany lay in a daze, the echoes of the horrific pain and very real dull throbbing ache almost enough to render her unconscious once more. The only thing that kept her going was the knowledge that she had suffered far worse in the past; no physical pain could compare to the day she had seen her husband and children slain during the Scourge invasion. With this driving force in her mind, she rolled over and vomited up blood onto the frozen ground.

Slowly she rose, her hand grabbing the handle of her morning star. The world spun crazily around her, sounds coming and going and her eyesight still gray around the edges. She stumbled forwards, towards where the troll death knight was mockingly striking the ground around Frederick, toying with its prey before it would deliver the final blow. Its runesword came up, and Britany pushed herself forward.

She never saw the golden wings that flowed from her back as she advanced. She could not see the Light that glowed in her eyes and streamed into the air around her. She saw only Frederick laying on the ground, and knew with an intensity that came from her faith itself that her sole purpose was to save his life. That she was the Light's vessel in this most important task.

The troll never saw her coming. Never saw as she used the last of her fading strength to swing her morning star. The cobalt ball on the end of the weapon smashed half its skull in and drove a four inch, blessed spike deep within its brain. Although resilient, even such a creature could not survive with such damage to its head and with the Light itself coursing through it, and its soul fled its twisted form, given relief at last.

As her foe fell, as her weapon slipped from her nerveless fingers and fell to the ground, Britany felt the Light flowing through her, felt only its love and warmth. Frederick watched from the ground before her, his mouth open wide in surprise as she closed her eyes and smiled, her hands rising up above her head as if to bask in the warmth of some sun he could not see.

In an instant, the Light exploded from her form, channeling itself through her and outwards in a blessed miracle. All around her, every undead creature within twenty yards burned to ash in an instant, the black flakes blowing away on the frozen wind. Beyond that, the creatures cowered and then fled in horror from her blessed form, turned in an instant by the unleashed power of the Light.

A second later, the Light faded and was gone. Frederick scrambled to his feet to find Britany looking at him, the golden glow slowly fading from her eyes. She gave him a half-smile, as if to say it was alright, before her eyes rolled up in her head and she collapsed.

Frederick dashed to her side, calling out for aid even as other Crusaders began to counter-attack the temporarily cowering undead creatures. Men ran to Frederick's side and together they lifted Britany's plate-armored body from the field and rushed her to the rear of the battle.

Two days later the paladin would awaken, alive despite the wound she'd suffered. She would discover that she bore a scar from the rushed and urgent healing, and that her breastplate was so damaged that it would no longer be useful in combat. Though she would cough up bloody mucus for the rest of the campaign, the Sin'dorei would stand again beside her allies within a few weeks, her body, her life forever a sacrifice to the Light and to her comrades. 

Strained Tolerance

*Northpass Tower, Eastern Plaguelands. Midday*

The light streaming in through the tower opening was shadowed for a moment as an armored form filled the space. Captain Frederick Lightstone looked up from the map table that he had been pointing at, smiling as he saw the figure moving into the interior of the tower's space. The five men and women around him comprising a strange mixture of different races also paused, looking at where the Captain's gaze had been drawn.

"Ah, you've arrived finally!" he said, a smile on his face.

The armored figure, a Sin'dorei paladin bearing a tabard of the Argent Crusade with light blonde hair neatly tied in place with white ribbons, smiled and offered the human a salute, "I came as soon as I received your missive, Captain Lightstone."

Frederick smiled and shook his head, "Please, Britany, no formalities. You've not been under my command in quite some time now, and though I may nominally hold a higher rank than you in the Crusade, you've been doing just as much work as I have on your solitary quests."

Britany Dawnblaze smiled, nodding once as she moved towards the group of Argent Crusade officers that Frederick had been addressing. Many of them offered her a polite head nod or smile, all recognizing one of the Crusade's many paladins. Britany studied Frederick for a moment, the smile still on her face as she spoke in heavily accented Common, "I hope that there is no trouble, Fred. I know that we've been busy in this area trying to remove the remaining Scourge."

"No, no, nothing of the sort that would require your expertise, Britany," Frederick said lightly. "I had heard you were passing through Light's Hope and wanted to ask a favor of you, if I may. I know you were going to Quel'Thalas to do some fund-raising and hopefully recruiting."

Britany nodded again, her fel-green gaze meeting the human's. They had been comrades in arms for many years, and friends beyond that. It was Frederick that had nicknamed her Britany; a name that she now bore proudly and had inscribed on her cloak clasp. The bond between them was one that could be seen between many of the Crusaders that had passed through the trials of the Icecrown campaign, and when Britany replied to Frederick, her words were sincere, "You know you can ask anything of me, Fred. I will always support you and the Crusade."

Frederick smiled, reaching out to clap a hand on one of Britany's shoulder pauldrons, "I know, my friend! Fear not though, it is nothing too arduous. It seems that one of my men, one Necros Sunsworn, has lately been showing some hint of a higher calling. Although he is still a trainee, I think it is important for the Crusade that he at least be introduced to a possible mentor to further develop his potential. Being that he is a Sin'dorei and you were in the area, I was wondering if you would allow him to work as your escort for a time while you travel here."

Britany tilted her head, one eyebrow rising in surprise at the request, "Although I am not an instructor, I do not see any harm in having the Crusader accompany me. The journey will not be arduous or present a danger except perhaps in the Ghostlands."

Frederick smiled, "Excellent! It is settled then. I will have him pack his kit and prepare to travel within the hour. He will be thrilled to have such an exceptional mentor to guide him."

Britany blushed, the bright pink color spreading across her cheeks and up to her eartips, "I am simply a servant of the Light, Fred. There is no difference between me and any other of the Light's children. Be that as it may, I will do what I can for this Sin'dorei in the hopes that he will further our cause in the future."

"You have my thanks, Britany. And please, the next time you are near Hearthglen stop and visit for a while. My wife and I would love to have you as a dinner guest and it really would do you well to have a few days of rest here and there, hmm?" Frederick said with a smile.

Britany grinned and bowed, speaking over her shoulder as she turned to leave, "As you say, Fred. I will do my best to drop in, preferably before you have an entire clan of children for me to babysit when you need a rest!"

Frederick's laughter echoed within the tower and followed Britany outside as she exited the structure, the sunlight slanting down through the clouds and kissing her skin. It was a beautiful day, and the rest of her journey into Quel'Thalas would be a pleasant one. At least, that was her thought until a commotion caught her attention. Tilting her head, she determined that the shout she'd just heard had come from one of the forward guard positions around the tower and proceeded to head that way.

She quickly made her way past the tower's outer defense walls, the trail beyond snaking down and around the tower to lower ground. There were sounds of a scuffle on the other side of the wall and Britany turned and walked along its perimeter, rounding a bend and encountering the source of the noises.

Two Argent Crusaders were there, one a dwarf and one a human, each holding their arms out and blocking the way towards the front of the tower. Beyond them stood a blonde woman in a black dress, her eyes covered by designer sunglasses. A quick inspection of the woman showed that she was wearing a rather expensive looking but worn dress, and that she had taken other steps to beautify herself by having her nails painted jet black and by wearing an abundance of golden jewelry. None of this was a concern to the paladin though once she sensed exactly what the woman was.

The chill of undeath could be felt even from a distance for someone like Britany, and it immediately make her feel sick to her stomach. Fists clenched, she stormed towards the scene, already suspecting who it was that approached the tower.

"Ma'am, you cannot enter the tower. We've been ordered to keep travelers away while there is a-" one of the Crusader guards was saying.

"Get the fel out of my way! I didn't come out here to bicker with one of the Crusade's lackeys!" the woman snapped back.

Britany stepped in between the guards, her voice firm as she took control of the situation, "What is the meaning of this? Identify yourself at once."

The two Crusaders backed up and lowered their arms, content to let the paladin handle the situation. The woman had been argumentative and showed no signs of leaving anytime soon. Britany planted her fists on her armored hips, awaiting an answer.

"I have come to see Captain Frederick Lightstone. I know he's here, and I have matters I wish to discuss with him," the blonde woman said, her voice echoing with a hollow quality.

Britany glared at the woman, her eyes seeking the scourge-blue glow that she knew lurked behind the glasses, "I know exactly what it is you wish to discuss with him, Beckyann Eastberg. Fred and I have discussed this at length. If he's ordered you away from the tower, then away from the tower you will stay. He's working on a local campaign here and your kind is neither needed, nor wanted."

The woman, the death knight, nearly hissed as Britany finished speaking, rearing back as if she'd been slapped. When she responded, her tone held barely restrained rage, "He was not so unwilling to speak to me when I was saving an entire patrol of his new recruits from the Scourge around Corin's Crossing. And how dare you presume that you know my business, slick-ears! I will speak with him for a few minutes and then be on my way. He owes me at least that much after my assistance. Besides, I'm trying to apologize for another...incident."

Britany remained firmly in place, her tone stern, "You will not see him. I know the 'incident' you are referring to and you should be glad that you still walk the face of this world and darken it with your footsteps. Turn and walk away. There is nothing for you here and this tower is property of the Argent Crusade."

Beckyann actually did hiss this time, her voice filled with hate. She lurched forward, one hand grabbing the armor that covered Britany's upper arm and squeezing it hard enough that the plates pinched the paladin's skin even through the padding beneath, "Get. Out. Of. My. Way. I am going to see him, whether you like it or not."

Whatever response Beckyann was expecting from the paladin, it was likely not one that would have made the death knight herself proud. Britany's hand came up and clamped down hard on Beckyann's arm, her other hand snapping out and grabbing the blonde woman by her throat. Using the grip she had as leverage, the paladin swung Beckyann around and slammed her against the wall of the tower, Britany's face scant inches from Beckyann's.

When she spoke this time, there was no question as to the paladin's feelings about the death knight, "Some of your kind take the opportunity to make amends for the things they've done. Some have souls that can be redeemed. Some of the living would have given anything, absolutely anything to have the chance that you've had to speak to those who passed on at the hands of the Scourge just one last time. And you waste every moment of that time by bringing more pain on those who recall you from life. You are a waste of existence, a filthy beast conjured from dark magic and if not for the Accords and for Fred's own wishes, you would even now be a burning torch, your soul set free when you were laid to rest. Do not test me again. The dead have no place here, or anywhere."

The look on Beckyann's face would have been comical to all present if not for the deadly nature of the confrontation. The death knight shifted in place for a moment, feeling the holy energies in the form of the Sin'dorei that held her in place. She wasn't hurt, but still felt like she'd been kicked in the gut. She violently reached up and broke the elf's grip on her throat, her body pushing against the other's armored form to force her to back up.

"FINE! I'LL LEAVE, BUT DON'T THINK FOR A MOMENT THAT IT WOULD BE ME THAT WOULD SUFFER IF I DECIDED THIS SHOULD GO FURTHER!" Beckyann raged.

"Just go. Return to your floating fortress of the dead and trouble us no more," Britany said, her gaze leveled at the death knight. "Fred does not need you ruining his life any further, nor do I need to waste my time speaking with you. You cannot be redeemed; I know this from what I've learned of you. The only boon you grant is that you destroy those things which we also fight, but one day that work will be done and then it will be your turn to go, monster."

Beckyann sneered, her voice low and cold now and chilling to hear, "Do not think that you are Fred's gatekeeper, or that he can hide behind your plate skirts forever. One day we will continue the conversation we had, and I will state my regrets. Only I get to decide if I can be redeemed, or if my good deeds outweigh the bad. Pray to your blessed Light that we do not meet again."

With that the death knight turned and stormed off, heading into the plaguelands around the tower without concern for the undead that lurked in the wilderness. Britany stared at her the entire time, until she was no longer visible and it was clear that she would not seek to enter the tower from another route.

"You are wrong, death knight. It is you who should pray to the Light. You should pray to it every day for forgiveness, and pray to it that you and I do not cross blades on the field of battle one day, for I should love nothing more than to put you to your rest so that my dear friend can live at ease, without your shadow to darken his doorstep."

With that, Britany turned and walked away, her mood greatly soured by the encounter although her purpose still clear in her mind. She would return to Quel'Thalas with the new recruit in tow, and seek to further the cause of the Crusade and the Light wherever she went. It was her purpose in life, and one she would never set aside until the day she drew her last breath.

A True Patriot- A Nexus Tale

*Fort Triumph outskirts, Auroria*

Lord Vellus Tacitus stood atop the makeshift barricade that his men had erected and frowned, looking down over the devastated countryside below the rise where the Dominion encampment had been set up. As far as the eye could see was devastation and debris, the ruin of war scattered over the green fields. Shattered warbots, discharged energy weapons, and the remains of tanks were oddly intermingled with primitive spears, hammers, and bits of armor laying here and there.

As he watched, a group of people began to make their way into the battle zone, carefully picking their way over the more difficult obstacles as they headed towards what was once the first barricade line that had been overrun sometime during the recent fighting. Lord Tacitus shook his head, sighing as he watched the group.

They numbered twenty in all, their gold and red uniforms glittering in the early morning sun. Leading them was a shorter woman, her red hair visible even from where Lord Tacitus stood, and the sight of her made him frown further; a Highborn should not risk herself so when there were others to do the fighting for her, and he had already advised her that they should hold their positions until reinforcements came from Fort Triumph.

A smile made its way across his face as he recalled her response, her face twisted into a sneer that did nothing to detract from her beauty, "Aliens control lands claimed by the Emperor. It is every citizen's duty to protect His domain, and I'll not sit idly by while His citizens are enslaved and His property is destroyed. You may sit atop your wall and brood all you wish with your men, but those under my command will fight when I tell them to fight."

If he were being honest with himself, Lord Tacitus would be forced to admit that he was rather smitten with the fair Lady Flammadies and that her fire and passion only added to the long list of attributes that were, to his mind, things that made a Highborn like Biara more lovely.

It was a shame she was about to die, or worse, have her mind shredded by foul magics as she was enslaved by the alien brutes just beyond their defensive perimeter.

With another sigh, Lord Tacitus shifted his gaze, watching the smoke-shrouded wreckage just beyond where the Lady Flammadies had her men set up their defenses. Predictably, figures began to move in the smoke, slowly making their way out into the open to reveal the Osun attack force that had been rampaging all through the area over the past few days.

Huge brutes with primitive weapons and the muscle needed swing them, Osun were fearsome enemies that gave no quarter. One either killed them or was killed or enslaved by them. There was no negotiating with them, no reasoning with such beasts. As if to give evidence to this, smaller figures shuffled alongside the huge bipedal aliens, the tattered clothes and hunched backs of the figures instantly giving them away as former Dominion citizens that had been captured and forced to drink the foul Soulrot potions, effectively turning them into freak zombies fighting for their new masters. It was a scene out of a nightmare, and with hundreds of the figures now shambling from the ruins around the first barricade it was obvious to Lord Tacitus that he was going to soon have to write a report about the brave but ultimately foolish Lady Biara Flammadies.

With a roar, the first of the Osun began their charge, lashing their slaves and driving a mass of them across the debris strewn fields before the barricade. As Lord Tacitus watched, Biara's men took up positions and opened up on the attackers with a wave of withering fire, felling many of the slaves and even killing a few of the brutes with well placed shots. While admirable, Lord Tacitus knew that they would never slay enough of them to stop the group from crossing the distance to the outnumbered defenders.

As predicted, a few Osun warriors and their chattel succeeded in surviving the onslaught from Lady Flammadies and her men, their huge hammers and spears coming up as they jumped over the low barricade where the Dominion loyalists fought. Instantly the battle went from a tightly controlled firefight to a crazed melee, with Osun laying into the smaller humans that sought to stand against them.

Lord Tacitus watched with a mixture of dread and admiration as Biara rose from her position behind the barricade and aligned her mag-pistols. Even from the distance he could see her weapons bucking as she flipped them to full auto and emptied their charge into the attackers. Osun that had crossed the barricade near her were struck repeatedly, the beasts going down after they had received several wounds. One of the creatures jumped the barricade behind Biara, only to be gutted by the energy sword of a rather large, mask-covered bodyguard that Lord Tacitus had seen silently following the Highborn since she'd arrived at his command.

The bodyguard turned, cutting down several Osun slaves as they attempted to flank him, even as Biara twirled around him and crouched underneath his right arm, her mag-pistols flashing over and over and causing two Osun that were behind the slaves to quiver as they were struck repeatedly and thrown backwards over the barricade they had just climbed.

Amazingly, the first wave of Osun began to falter, even as a second wave started to make its way across the field. Biara's men had not gone through the fight unscathed, and Lord Tacitus estimated that she had maybe fifteen souls left to her. Even as he completed his count, jagged lightning arced across the barricade and struck one of Biara's men, the energy charring his armor and hurling him to the ground.

All eyes turned as one of the Osun's witches strode across the field, her magics lashing out again and this time striking the barricade before Biara. The Highborn ducked as the energy coursed over her, her personal shield flickering around her and protecting her from the brunt of the attack. The witch's magic forced the defenders to stay down as she walked the rest of the distance to the barricade and hopped over it, grinning as she brought her hands up.

To Lord Tacitus's surprise, Biara rose behind the witch, eldritch energies dancing in the air around her as she began to summon her own magics. Although he was familiar with the fact that many in the Dominion studied the arcane, Lord Tacitus had little knowledge on the subject and was shocked when Lady Flammadies shouted something incoherent and literally tore a hole through space and time. In an instant she disappeared from where she was standing and reappeared directly in front of the witch, the wake of her magic disrupting the Osun and dazing her. Biara's pistol came up and flashed point blank before the alien, the force of the weapon's projectile pitching the Osun witch backwards over the barricade even as the rest of Biara's men opened up with their weapons again, the shots flying across the no-man's land before the barricade.

It was too late to stop the second wave. Too many Osun were roaring across the field now and Lord Tacitus cursed in frustration as he watched them closing on the barricades. He had warned the foolhardy Lady Flammadies and it was a shame that she would now die when she could be sitting and having wine with him safely behind the lines instead.

Unable to look away from the impending disaster, Lord Tacitus's gaze remained glued on the distant red-haired figure as she took up a position next to her men, her mag-pistols adding to the fierce resistance the group was putting up. Just as it looked like they were about to be overrun, there was a roaring sound that shook the very ground beneath their feet, and Lord Tacitus looked up in amazement to see three ships screeching down out of the sky in a maneuver that was so dangerous only a highly skilled pilot would attempt it. Two of the ships were Dominion interceptors, proudly displaying the emblems of the Dominion on their hull and smaller emblems of the Flammadies family beneath that. The third ship was a heavily laden troop transport with cannons sticking out of the open sides on both sides of the craft.

I'll be damned; she tricked them into coming out into the open. She knew all along that she would win if her ships could get target locks on the creatures.

As if to emphasize Lord Tacitus's thoughts, the interceptors immediately began firing their cannons into the charging Osun below, the roar of the weapons discharging punctuated by the explosions that erupted from the ground amidst the alien threat. In a heartbeat the fearsome charge turned into carnage, with Osun being thrown up into the air as high-powered lasers stuck the ground over and over, searing through flesh and slaughtering those who did not immediately seek shelter.

As Lord Tacitus watched in disbelief, Lady Flammadies rose from her position behind the barricade, her warcry echoing even from the distance, her men rising with her as they jumped the barricade and fired on the aliens that were scattering amongst the explosions. The troop transport dove down, hovering just over their  position, it's side cannons firing as more Flammadies family soldiers repelled from the vessel with jetpacks, the side cannons adding to the carnage amongst the Osun.

From the smoke shrouded ruins beyond a rallying cry rose up as an enormous Osun charged forward, leading a third wave of attackers into the blistering laser fire. To Lord Tacitus's disbelief, Lady Flammadies strode towards the massive figure, marching with her back ramrod straight and her mag-pistols held low and ready by her side.

The ground erupted in explosions as massive alien beast and red-haired Highborn approached each other, the Osun commander roaring with a warhammer held high above his head, and Biara striding forward confidently, seemingly unconcerned with the carnage all around her.

Halfway across the battlefield, Biara paused, her hips shifting as one arm came up. Lord Tacitus could see the glow of her mag-pistol and the shimmer in the air around Lady Flammadies as arcane energy built, the weapon slowly overcharging. The massive Osun commander roared, picking up speed just as Biara's finger caressed the trigger.

A blinding streak of white-hot light erupted from the mag-pistol, crossing the ten feet to the Osun battle-lord in an instant. The creature stumbled as it ran, still holding its hammer in hand. Lord Tacitus gripped the barricade before him tensely as the beast neared Lady Flammadies, only to see the massive creature collapsed to its knees and slide to a halt a foot from the Highborn.

With almost delicate movements, Biara brought a leg up and put one red leather boot on the beast's chest, steadying it so it would not collapse on her. Although Lord Tacitus could not hear what she said in that moment, he saw her mag-pistol come up again and unload repeatedly into the beast's chest before she pushed the now-dead Osun commander backwards and caused him to collapse in a heap.

The execution-style death of the alien leader sent shockwaves through the already stunned Osun attack force, and their final charge faltered as more and more weapons joined in the barrage pelting them. Their morale broke a moment later, and the creatures fell back, dozens of them dying as Biara's men continued to fire on their backs, driving them into the ruins of the battlefield beyond likely for good.

As the battlefield fell silent, Lord Tacitus watched the silhouette of Lady Biara Flammadies as she stood over the fallen Osun commander, smoking mag-pistol in hand. In that moment, his admiration grew and he mentally began preparing the poem he would include with the wine he would have sent to her as a gift for her contributions to his command. As he watched her, he knew he was looking upon a fine example of a loyal citizen of the Dominion, and one whose deeds would please her Emperor in the many battles to come.

 

Crossed Stars- A Nexus Tale

*Planet Cassus. Several years ago.*

There was a soft breeze blowing through the sculpted trees of the orchard, the warm air pleasant on a summer evening. Above, the stars glimmered in all their majesty, their pale twinkle visible across the entire sky. Green eyes studied them, heavy thoughts stirring deep within Biara's mind.

It seems almost unfair, that such terrible events should unfold under such beauty. That a bloody tragedy should have such a celestial backdrop.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of weeping behind her as Kristana's broken heart was given voice. The sound was irritating to Biara, not because it was annoying but because it brought with it the torrent and rage of Biara's own broken heart. She almost envied the lowborn the fact that she could let her emotions free, could cry until her eyes were red while Biara herself was required to maintain an elegant, aloof mask over the emotions that chafed at her very soul.

This should never have come to pass. Where did I go wrong? What did I do wrong that drove him to this? That lead us to this moment?

There was little time for further consideration though, as Biara brought her gaze down from the heavens to take in the others in the otherwise empty orchard. As Biara had brought Kristana as her Second for the duel, so too had her opponent, Marcus Vedius, brought his own Second. Biara recognized him as another of the Highborn that Marcus often traveled with, and by the smirk on the man's face, she could tell that he was quite familiar with the reason behind the duel and had opinions about Biara's chances of success that were contrary to her own. As for Marcus himself, he was dressed as he always was; a brilliant red and gold coat and matching pants custom tailored to his muscular build, his black hair artfully styled such that a piece playfully hung down across one cheek, almost inviting Biara to come and push it back into place so she could stare into his sparkling eyes again.

Beyond the two who stood on the other side of the orchard, two Mechari also stood between the groups, the two having been sent by a neutral family to help aid in the honorable conclusion of the duel and feud between the Flammadies and Vedius families. Dressed in tailored suits and each carrying a case, the two separated and one walked towards each of the pairs that stood facing each other.

And so it comes to this. Innocence lost. Love a jagged blade in my heart. How could I have been so blind?

Marcus grinned at Biara from across the distance between them, his blue eyes meeting hers in a gaze that had electrifying tension in it. For months now he had mocked her, both in public and in private, spreading rumors about her, about her family. He had bragged about his conquest, about how he had 'rutted with' the sole heir of the Flammadies family as well as her servants and staff, even going so far as to make up lies about how he'd had them together whenever he'd desired it. What had been a beautiful romance had become a terrible nightmare the moment that Biara had discovered him with Kristana, disguised as a lowborn.

It is sad, not only for me, but for the girl as well. Kristana truly loved him, truly believed he was of her kind. He was always so good at putting on his facade. His show was superb, even when he was with me. I had no hint of it, no way of knowing that he was simply a thief who stole hearts and broke them when he was finished with them.

The Mechari that had walked towards Biara paused in front of her, formally bowing before her and straightening. His mechanical voice echoed out, "Lady Flammadies, if you would be so kind as to bare your arm."

"Of course," Biara replied woodenly. She reached over and rolled up her sleeve, exposing her arm above her elbow.

The Mechari reached out, gently holding her arm and drawing a small blade with his other hand. Across the way, the second Mechari was performing a similar ritual on Marcus. "This will hurt, Lady Flammadies. My apologies."

"Just do it," Biara replied, her gaze never leaving Marcus.

The Mechari took the blade and made a shallow cut on Biara's arm, her blood running across her pale flesh. The mechanical construct turned, holding Biara's arm up slightly and allowing those across the way to see the red blood on her skin, even as the same was done to Marcus. Both Seconds were able to see the gesture, and Marcus's partner merely nodded, while Kristana continued her sniffling. The blood demonstrated that neither duelist was wearing a personal shield, and that they could be wounded or killed with a single shot. Honor demanded no less.

With the task done, the Mechari bent down, opening the case he had set on the ground beside him. First he withdrew a red bit of cloth, which he bound to Biara's arm around the wound. After this, he retrieved a custom-designed mag-pistol, holding it up for Biara in both palms. She reached out, taking the weapon carefully and judging its weight. She nodded once, her thumb striking the activation rune on the weapon and causing a high pitched whine to emanate from the pistol as it powered on and charged up. A moment later, an indicator on the handle turned green and Biara holstered the weapon at her hip, nodding her thanks to the Mechari.

Across the way, the second Mechari had completed the same ritual in an identical fashion at the exact same time, both of the mechanical men now stepping away from the duelists and ushering the Seconds aside as well. Biara and Marcus stood fifty feet apart, both with armed pistols in their holsters and both silent. The moment seemed to stretch on for an eternity.

Just say something Marcus. Say anything to change the truth of this. Lie to me if you must. Tell me that all of this is just a terrible dream. Please my beloved, just lie to me one last time.

But he said nothing, the silence between them a wall that would never now be breached. He had dishonored her, dishonored her family, and broken the laws of the Dominion. Above all else, above her love, above her personal desires, was the Emperor and His will. She would see His will done this evening.

The two Mechari stood side by side, each holding a red cloth in their hands. They held the cloths up, Biara's eyes watching them closely. Across the distance, Marcus also keep his gaze firmly on the cloths, each of the duelists tense now. A moment later, the Mechari dropped the cloths in unison.

Everything was almost in slow motion to Biara. With lightning fast speed, her hand dipped to her holster, even as Marcus reached for his own weapon. Her nimble fingers found the handle of the weapon, as they had grasped countless other pistols over the years, the warm familiarity of the action a soothing balm to her wounded heart. The weapon came free easily, as if its natural state was to be in her hand and pointed at a foe, as if there were no holster binding it.

Her mag-pistol came up, the weapon's whine intensifying as her finger caressed the trigger. Across the distance, Marcus had his own pistol in hand, but he was slow, oh-so-slow. Too terribly slow to ever get his weapon up in time to match the speed of Biara's skill. Still feeling like the world was moving in slow motion, Biara's finger gently squeezed the trigger, the mag-pistol bucking in her hand as it spat out a single white-hot round, the projectile traveling the distance in an instant.

It struck Marcus in the chest, a hair's breath from his heart. His body bucked backwards from the impact, his own pistol discharging and spitting out a round that struck the ground by Biara's feet. Biara did not move, did not flinch as she watched in horror as Marcus tumbled backwards, his life's blood pumping from the wound. He landed in a crumpled heap, his weapon clattering to the ground. Kristana gasped behind Biara, her weeping intensifying as the love of both their lives lay still on the night-shrouded ground.

For a moment, Biara just stood still, as if frozen in time, the smoking mag-pistol in her hand. Slowly she forced herself to move, striding across the distance until she stood over Marcus, looking down at him and meeting his gaze, for he still lived. She glanced over at the Second Marcus had brought, and the man simply dipped his head in respect. The duel was over, and Biara had won. Any dishonor or disgrace was expunged, and would be spoken of no more.

She brought the pistol up, aiming it at Marcus's heart. He grinned up at her, his life-blood foaming in his mouth and making it hard for him to cough up his words, "So you've bloody won. So what?'

Biara aimed the pistol, her gaze locked with his. For a moment her finger caressed the trigger, and then her hand shook. She looked away, flipping the pistol in her hand and holstering it. On the ground at her feet, Marcus laughed, the action causing him to go into a coughing fit as his lungs filled with blood, "I knew you couldn't do it. You still want me. You always will you wretched cow."

Biara didn't look at him, her gaze returning to the heavens now. Her voice was distant and cold when she responded, as a perfect Cassian Highborn, "You have betrayed the Emperor's own edicts, and have shamed our people. I should end you now, but you are dying anyway. Suffer then, and consider what you've done in your final moments. Know that my heart belongs to Him above all others, and I will see yours torn asunder before I let you disparage his name or empire."

Behind her, Biara heard shuffling as Kristana finally let her emotions get the better of her and she dashed across the way. Biara did not look back as the lowborn sank down beside Marcus and gently lifted his head, cradling it in her lap. Kristana cried softly, stroking Marcus's hair and whispering sweetly to him, "My love, my love. I'm so sorry my love. I wanted a life together, I wanted everything you promised me. I wanted our dreams to come true."

Marcus coughed, blood bubbling up on his lips as he stared up at Kristana. A sneer crossed his face and his weakening voice whispered to her, "Get away from me, filth. If I'm to die, at least let me die with dignity without a lowborn whore's hands on me. You were a game, a thing for fun. I'd have never done it if I'd known it would end like this."

Biara's eyes closed as she heard the words, knowing that while he was saying them to Kristana, the same words likely would have been addressed at her if he were to live longer. The lowborn gave out an agonized moan that was heartwrenching to hear, and Biara knew in that moment that a soul's course had been irrevocably altered.

Kristana pushed herself away from Marcus, letting his head thump onto the ground and causing him to go into another fit of coughing as she rose, her agony coming out as a mixture of mewling and weeping that slowly was turning into boiling rage. Biara heard Kristana shift on her feet, felt her hand as it brushed against Biara's hip and clamped down firmly on the handle of the pistol. Although Kristana had no skill with the arcane, the pistol would still be a weapon in her hand even if the rounds were not specially imbued.

In that moment, Biara kept her eyes closed and did nothing. She felt the pistol lift from her holster, heard Kristana's rage come out in a scream even as the whine of a mag-pistol charging began to sound. And then she heard the weapon as it discharged over and over into the Highborn's chest, Kristana's agony finally given release in the death of her betrayer.

In the silence that followed, Biara opened her eyes and looked up to the heavens above, the cold stars almost mocking her with their beauty now. She spoke softly, never turning to look at the others present, her voice heard over the panting of Kristana's rage behind her, "Marcus Vedius lost the duel, and his life was forfeit. Our quarrel is ended. You shall tell the Vedius family that we will compensate them for the funeral costs as appropriate."

"As you wish, Lady Flammadies," Marcus's Second said politely. Although she was not looking at him, he offered her a bow and then another to the two Mechari before turning and heading off through the orchard.

As Biara stared up at the stars, she heard the Mechari begin the process of collecting the weapons and the body, Kristana's weeping a counterpoint to the ache in her heart.

Goodbye forever, my beloved.

A Small Problem- A Nexus Tale

The Protostar representative sighed, reaching down to straighten his tie and brush non-existent lint off of his jacket one more time. The green alien turned as the door behind him slid opened on its power coils, another identical Protostar clone entering the small office. The newcomer, a Grade 1 Real Estate Agent, nodded once and spoke in a clipped tone, "The client is here."

Sighing again, the Protostar representative arose from his place behind the desk, moving briskly past his subordinate and into the room beyond where they kept materials and supplies to upload into the holographic housing displays that guests and customers could view in the main room. As he walked towards the showroom, the alien paused, reaching a hand out to push aside a curtain that divided the backroom from the show space. He parted the curtain just enough to peer through without actually exposing himself to the room beyond.

This early in the day the showroom was empty, which was exactly why he'd arranged the meeting for this time. It took him only a second to spot the person who'd come to see him, and he took a moment to study her.

Across the room a Highborn Cassian woman stood, peering at display of a magnificent Cassian estate. Long red hair fell to her mid-back as she peered over one of the cloth ropes that kept visitors from touching the display.  She wore a red and gold outfit that playfully hinted at being the attire of a corsair while plainly having been made of the finest material that money could buy. Her ears were encircled by golden jewelry that sculpted her eartips into the pointed look of the Luminai, although the Protostar representative knew that she was an ordinary human by her height. Standing at no more than five foot, two inches, the woman would hardly tower over anyone as a Luminai might and in fact was likely shorter than any of Protostar's workers, especially given that they were all the exact same height!

As the alien began to push into the room he paused one last time, noticing for the first time that two rather hefty looking mag-pistols rode on the Cassian's shapely hips. He swallowed hard, noting how each of the pistols blinked with a merry green light on the handle indicating that they were fully charged. He straightened his tie one last, unnecessary time before pushing past the curtain barricade and into the showroom.

"Excuse me, Lady Flammadies? Lady Biara Flammadies?" he said politely, plastering a salesman's smile on his face.

The Cassian woman turned, her green eyes studying him and a smile playing across her lips. Although the Protostar Representative was not all that familiar with humans, he could tell she was young, likely just an adult and probably attractive for her kind, not that he cared much. She dipped her head towards him, her voice as soft as he'd imagined it would be and hopefully would remain, "Yes, good morning! And please, just Biara if you will. Formalities are for their time and place, but not when I am shopping hmm?"

The alien nodded, swallowing again before replying, "Yes, of course. I do apologize for calling you in so early in the morning. You see, there's been a bit of a...problem with your purchase. Yes, a problem! However, Protostar is here for you, and we're going to solve it!"

The smile on Biara's face dipped into a frown and she studied the alien more closely, "What do you mean 'a problem'? Is there some issue with my payment?"

The Protostar representative's eyes widened and he shook his head, "Oh no no no no! We certainly received your payment, and thank you for that by the way. No, the problem actually is with the logistics of the purchase. You contracted a Protostar transport to move your belongings to your new property if you recall, and we began that transportation operation yesterday."

"Yes...do go on..." Biara said, now looking suspicious.

The alien continued on, his words sputtering out, "Well er...there was a slight...malfunction, yes a malfunction in the cargo lifter's anti-grav thrusters and um..."

One of Biara's eyebrows had begun to creep its way ominously up her forehead as the alien continued, "And...?"

"Well, the cargo lander actually crashed. Into the property you purchased. And was vaporized. With all your things," the alien finished. He cringed slightly, looking nervous.

Biara's eyebrow had gone as high as it could without physically detaching itself from her face. Her voice was flat now, "I see. And my personal possessions?"

"A-also vaporized! But, there is good news!" the alien said, plastering the fake smile on his face again. "You were not vaporized, and since you opted to purchase Class III Protostar transportation insurance, we will make good on your property! There will just be a small matter of processing the paperwork which can take between ninety and three hundred and twenty days."

Biara rolled her eyes, sighing. She straightened her back murmuring a prayer to herself, "Evindra give me patience." She looked at the alien again, shaking her head, "I trust you have found me a new property to replace that which I paid for?"

"Oh of course, of course!" the alien replied. "That is precisely why I asked you to come. We've found you something temporary while we work out the paperwork for you! Please, step into the teleporter there and I will show you!"

Biara nodded, striding over to the teleporter, her red leather boots making loud noises on the stone floor in the empty showroom. She followed the alien through the teleporter, the world shifting around her as they dematerialized and reappeared elsewhere.

When her vision had stopped spinning from the teleport, Biara looked around, sighing again. They were on an equally large plot of land, but instead of the spacious mansion she'd planned to purchase stood a rather drab per-fabricated Cassian house. While that was disappointing, there were also some issues with the property in general.

"What is that...? Is that a meteor impact site? Seriously?" Biara murmured, pointing with some annoyance at the still smoldering hole on the far side of the property. She squinted, noticing that there were cargo containers near it and what looked like scientific equipment. "That is a containment unit. Is this property infested...?"

"Oh no no, not at all Lady Flammadies!" the Protostar representative said cheerfully. "Just a little precaution! We'll have all of this cleaned up in no time I assure you!"

Biara sighed again, looking over the property and noting some debris near the teleporter platform. "And there. Clearly you just scooped up whatever pile of dirt you could find in a hurry. There are marauder debris scattered all over the grounds!"

"No, I assure you we carefully selected this land using our expert surveyors!" the Protostar representative argued.

"Really? Then why is there a marauder cot and the remains of some keg party over there?" Biara said, pointing with one manicured nail. "You people really should have done a better job of resolving this."

"P-please, we did the best we could in a hurry!" the Protostar representative whined. "Please d-don't retract your payment! O-or vaporize me! My health benefits haven't kicked in yet!"

Biara sighed again, shaking her head, "I'm not going to vaporize you. Just...get me replacements for my possessions as quickly as possible. I am here to serve the Emperor and distractions like this are not welcome. You may go now. I will survey the property and send orders up to our ships with whatever materials will be needed to properly clean the grounds."

"O-of course, Lady Flammadies! As you wish!" the Protostar representative said, happily backing his way into the teleporter and disappearing.

When he was gone, Biara walked to the edge of the platform, peering through the shielding around her floating property and down to the planet Nexus below. It was there that she would serve her Emperor. There that she would honor the name of her family. The entire project may have started out poorly, but she would see it through.

Her green eyes tilted upwards to look at the heavens above, watching as ships entering the atmosphere left streaks across the sky. Up there, somewhere, the fleet was disgorging thousands of eager soldiers of the Dominion, and her family's own personnel and ships would be slowing starting up and making their way down. Soon they would begin to build up their resources, and then the enemies of the Dominion would learn what it meant to challenge her and her people.

As a particularly bright streak filled the sky from a large cargo-hauler heading down towards the planet, Biara Flammadies smiled and turned, walking towards her new home.