Vespeterium Minor
01-04-2007, 14:29
Velos' tongue flicked from his open mouth. After tasting the air, he nodded and turned to the small human next to him. He spoke in a language most of the humans could not understand, but the small man translated.
'Captain General Velos says that there are about 1600 rebels left in the city. He says that many have died due to starvation.'
The man that stood opposite Velos nodded slightly. Weeks ago, when he forst met the leader of the Kyrakeen, he had been weary. He had relaxed recently, to a certain extent. He looked Velos up and down. He was very similar to all Kyrakeen. Around six foot tall, green scaly skin, a lizard shaped face and burning red eyes. He bore the large black armour that was typical for his species, and held a plasma rifle, obviously not of Kyrakeen making.
'Ever since there has been war, there have been Kyrakeen,' or so the saying goes. While vehemently untrue, it summed up the attitude of the species as a whole. From the moment one Kyrakeen had sharpened a piece of metal into a blade all those millions of years ago, the Kyrakeen had been a people of war. Velos was a typical product of this system. From the age of five, male or female, all Kyrakeen were trained to be warriors. They were fearsome by the time they reached their fifties, as Velos was now.
Velos stated something else that was once again translated; 'We will go in and take the Prince now if you would please.'
The leader of the armies, Prince Johann Everos, nodded. Velos let put a mighty roar and drew the blade that he had in his armour. While it may have been obselete for centuries, it still made a Kyrak look fearsome.
A column of 1000 Kyrakeen marched toward the city. The rebels began to fire, hitting some of the Kyrak as they advanced. The rest carried on marching.
When the Kyrakeen reached the city, they blasted the barriers out of their way with their plasma rifles and then began to charge. Slaughtering the first wave of defenders, Velos let out a mighty roar as the lizards continued to reap their damage. Eventually, Velos and a group of Kyrakeen came upon the large central palace. After killing the guards, they approached a smaller man cowering in the corner.
Velos took out a small black clip and attached it to his throat. He made his hissing noises, but this time they merely came out in the humans own language. 'You are Prince Arlos Ameir of the Rebel Armies?' Velos asked.
The human said nothing, still shaking. Ignoring this, Velos continued. 'We are instructed to take you back to your brother.'
Horror dawned on the princes face. 'But he'll kill me!' he pleaded.
'That is not our concern.' stated Velos. He ordered his men foward to grab the prince and then began his march back.
After Arlos had been placed before his brother, and then dragged away, Velos nodded. 'We have completed our tenure here.' he stated. 'You will complete the payment and then we will leave.'
The victorious prince obliged, but then ventured a question. 'Let me get this straight.' he asked. 'If my brother agreed to pay you now, you'd just as readily turn on me, wouldn't you?'
Velos nodded. 'We are soldiers.' he stated. 'Who we fight matters little to us. We merely seek payment for our services.'
'So you're mercenaries?' asked Johann.
Velos did not answer. He didn't percieve himself as a mercenary, and yet that was the common perception. Johann, seeking he would not get an answer, waved Velos away.
It took 15 days to get back to their home planet, the desert world of Karrack. When he arrived, Velos ordered the advertizing circular set up again.
The Kyrakeen are warriors that are available for hire. If you wish to hire up to twenty million Kyrakeen warriors, merely place an order here of Karrack. We do not accept suicide missions, nor do we operate inside Galactic jurisdiction. Fee is negotiable from 25 million or more. Material goods and technology acceptable. This message will repeat.
'Captain General Velos says that there are about 1600 rebels left in the city. He says that many have died due to starvation.'
The man that stood opposite Velos nodded slightly. Weeks ago, when he forst met the leader of the Kyrakeen, he had been weary. He had relaxed recently, to a certain extent. He looked Velos up and down. He was very similar to all Kyrakeen. Around six foot tall, green scaly skin, a lizard shaped face and burning red eyes. He bore the large black armour that was typical for his species, and held a plasma rifle, obviously not of Kyrakeen making.
'Ever since there has been war, there have been Kyrakeen,' or so the saying goes. While vehemently untrue, it summed up the attitude of the species as a whole. From the moment one Kyrakeen had sharpened a piece of metal into a blade all those millions of years ago, the Kyrakeen had been a people of war. Velos was a typical product of this system. From the age of five, male or female, all Kyrakeen were trained to be warriors. They were fearsome by the time they reached their fifties, as Velos was now.
Velos stated something else that was once again translated; 'We will go in and take the Prince now if you would please.'
The leader of the armies, Prince Johann Everos, nodded. Velos let put a mighty roar and drew the blade that he had in his armour. While it may have been obselete for centuries, it still made a Kyrak look fearsome.
A column of 1000 Kyrakeen marched toward the city. The rebels began to fire, hitting some of the Kyrak as they advanced. The rest carried on marching.
When the Kyrakeen reached the city, they blasted the barriers out of their way with their plasma rifles and then began to charge. Slaughtering the first wave of defenders, Velos let out a mighty roar as the lizards continued to reap their damage. Eventually, Velos and a group of Kyrakeen came upon the large central palace. After killing the guards, they approached a smaller man cowering in the corner.
Velos took out a small black clip and attached it to his throat. He made his hissing noises, but this time they merely came out in the humans own language. 'You are Prince Arlos Ameir of the Rebel Armies?' Velos asked.
The human said nothing, still shaking. Ignoring this, Velos continued. 'We are instructed to take you back to your brother.'
Horror dawned on the princes face. 'But he'll kill me!' he pleaded.
'That is not our concern.' stated Velos. He ordered his men foward to grab the prince and then began his march back.
After Arlos had been placed before his brother, and then dragged away, Velos nodded. 'We have completed our tenure here.' he stated. 'You will complete the payment and then we will leave.'
The victorious prince obliged, but then ventured a question. 'Let me get this straight.' he asked. 'If my brother agreed to pay you now, you'd just as readily turn on me, wouldn't you?'
Velos nodded. 'We are soldiers.' he stated. 'Who we fight matters little to us. We merely seek payment for our services.'
'So you're mercenaries?' asked Johann.
Velos did not answer. He didn't percieve himself as a mercenary, and yet that was the common perception. Johann, seeking he would not get an answer, waved Velos away.
It took 15 days to get back to their home planet, the desert world of Karrack. When he arrived, Velos ordered the advertizing circular set up again.
The Kyrakeen are warriors that are available for hire. If you wish to hire up to twenty million Kyrakeen warriors, merely place an order here of Karrack. We do not accept suicide missions, nor do we operate inside Galactic jurisdiction. Fee is negotiable from 25 million or more. Material goods and technology acceptable. This message will repeat.