Crimson Stars - 1

1. Graduates

A soft rapping on my casket woke me from my death-sleep. Blinking to regain moisture on my eyes, the internal sensors of the sleeper coffin noticed I was awake and activated the lights. They were soft, attuned to vampiric vision, and so easily adjusted to.

“We’ve arrived, Lady Nosu,” I heard Opiekun’s voice call out.

Still, it never paid to be sloppy, so I slipped on my pince nez sunglasses, as awkward as the movements were in the confined space of the casket. A quick tap on the bridge of the glasses, and I had a HUD connected to the coffin’s sensors. The only human soul present was indeed my Klivanion’s, and external UV radiation levels were safe. It seemed my human guardian had continued to be loyal.

With any safety concerns assuaged, I flicked the lock on the inside of the coffin. Then I swung the lid open while sitting up, stretching against stiff joints. Death-sleep may have let one go longer without hunger, and it certainly helped make the numerous jumps between star systems go more quickly, but it did not do wonders for flexibility.

The room around us was brighter than the coffin, but not unpleasantly so. It was also the room I expected it to be, the primary entry airlock for the isolated asteroid we were meant to be visiting. A cold place, dozens of astronomical units from the orange star of Niraya, and exactly as out of the way as I wanted.

“Temnyi said he has something to show you,” Opiekun said, floating on the other side of the lock-chamber.

I let myself drift out of the casket with a small nudge. “Temnyi always has something he wants to show me.”

Still, he’d accepted a position halfway to the nothing of interstellar space which brought with it greatly limited travel options. His loyalty deserved to be rewarded with my humouring his braggart nature at least a little.

As such, I drifted towards the entry door, lowering my sunglasses to let it run an iris scan. The scanner gave a happy chirp. The door followed that with a more ominous series of whirs and clunks. After just long enough to make me wonder if it was malfunctioning, it jerked open a few centimetres. Then it slid more smoothly the rest of the way.

On the other side floated a solidly built vampire with a shaved head and a slight hunger about him. Temnyi, of course.

“I was beginning to worry we’d have to start the ceremony without you, your majesty!” he said, his deep voice loud in the cold echo of the lock area.

“Ceremony?” I asked, drifting out of the lock with Opiekun close behind me.

“Mhm. We’ve got an early graduate,” Temnyi said, leading the way down the hallway.

It had a slow spiral to it, the floor curving ‘upwards’ to the implied reference frame we’d followed in microgravity. That assured that the slow shift towards the rotational gravity of the outer portions of the base was as smooth as possible.

“They’re a two soul and a proper prodigy,” Temnyi was explaining, almost sounding like a proud father.

Perhaps that was appropriate, as he’d been in charge of raising the future Klivanions from infancy. As was essential to ensure they would be acceptably skilled as fighters, in the short lifespan of a human. Even that of a Klivanion, pumped full of the best nanotechnology Vampiric science had produced.

All the same... “I had thought you said only ten bodies were of graduate age?”

Temnyi dismissed my question with a wave. “As I said, they’re a prodigy. Only eighteen, but able to pass every trial I pushed the graduates through. It hardly seemed prudent to leave such skill twiddling its thumbs for two more years. Not when there’s such a critical time on the horizon.”

“Mhhn,” I replied, admitting there was logic to it. “I suppose I shall have to see their performance to pass judgement.”

By this point, we had reached a full standard force of gravity, and the ‘ground’ had levelled out. The facility proper was the same spartan silver and grey metal I remembered as we headed towards the primary combat ring. It was not a distant walk, the facility designed for fewer than one hundred trainees, and only a handful of instructors.

The room which contained the combat ring was the second largest in the facility, after the docking port for incoming shuttles. The entire student body, which was only about half the capacity of the facility, and the instructors were present. One student stood in the sunken combat ring, while ten others stood around the circle, each sporting the red-trimmed black uniforms and facial tattoos of Klavanions. (At least, that was the count by bodies. Counting souls present would have at least doubled those numbers.)

All present came to attention as we entered, a satisfyingly uniform motion.

“Princess Nosu of the House of Prilep has arrived,” Temnyi bellowed. “Announce your allegiance!”

“We would die so that you may live, oh Princess!” the assembled students replied in a well drilled chorus.

I gave a small nod, recognition of the promise. The minimum I could get away with: I had no great desire to dwell upon it. Such pomp and formality took up time. There were generally better things to be done with one’s time, regardless of what my father and too many other vampire lords felt. Immortality was no excuse for inefficiency.

As such, I gave a gesture to tell Temnyi to begin the graduation exam. He seemed disappointed I wasn’t giving any sort of rousing speech, but he knew me well enough to have expected this.

I followed him to the edge of the combat ring. There were no chairs, so I hoped this wouldn’t take too long.

Following a small nod from Temnyi, one of the graduates leapt into the ring. He moved with a grace akin to a vampire, the augmentations and diligent training showing its results.

Landing, the new arrival and the examinee both drew their squared off Klivanion’s swords. The pair circled one another for a few moments, before the examinee dashed ahead, a number of rapid swipes forcing his opponent on the defensive. It was obvious from the ferocity in the prodigy’s eyes that he was far more determined to win this fight than his opponent. I only paid partial attention to the specifics of the combat, certainty in the victor dulling my interest.

My attention was pulled back a little with the drawing of first blood, the visible manifestation of human life force wetting my appetite slightly.

With blood drawn, that opponent retreated and a second jumped in. The examinee was initially on the defensive, this new opponent larger than him and pushing aggressively. Eventually the examinee responded by pushing into a parry, getting close enough to strike with his knee, hitting the larger man in the midsection, doubling him over before hitting him in the back of the head with his pommel. There was a bit of blood, and the second opponent retreated.

“This is making me hungry,” I muttered just loud enough for Temnyi to hear.

Picking up on the implication that I was somewhat impatient, he shouted for two more opponents to enter. That forced the examinee to act more defensively, relying on footwork to avoid being trapped between the two foes. Determination still told, and first blood was the examinee’s in each match until the final four opponents entered at once. One of the previous graduates yanked another into position before her, using him as a human shield to buy herself a chance to strike, forcing her way through the examinee’s defenses.

“Seven points,” Temnyi said, grinning from ear to ear. “A new record for Graduate 11. Good work, Spatha and Dirk.”

The new graduate and the other ten all stopped, clicking their heels before giving a bow to myself and Temnyi. Graduate 11 grinned, whichever of them was at the front in the moment.

As they were bowing I heard the one who’d been used as a human shield whisper a complaint to the woman who’d used him.

“You could have done the same to me, Falx,” she hissed back.

The sore loser made a face, but anything further was of minimal interest to me. Besides, Temnyi was clearly demanding my attention.

“So, what do you think of them all?”

“They seem quite competent,” I replied. “Opiekun? You would have stronger opinions.”

My current Klavanion glanced down at the fresh graduates, coldly assessing them. “They are generally a bit too aggressive, I would say. A Klivanion’s primary duty is to protect their charge. Therefore defensive strategies should be favoured.”

“There wasn’t a charge in this test,” Temnyi replied, a small snarl on his lips at the idea of a human questioning him.

“Besides, old man,” the young woman who’d drawn blood called out, “We can let our lady feed without ending our careers. So we don’t have to be quite as delicate with her.”

Seeing the grin on her face, I took a small leap forward, plunging gracefully into the combat ring and landing directly in front of her.

“Do you have a name?”

“Y—Yari,” she said, pailing under my close gaze, even if she had five or six centimetres of height on me.

“Well, Yari, it is true that you can survive a feeding, and that is why I have chosen you all as trainees. However, that is no reason to have such a cavalier attitude to one’s charges. After all, even if you can survive, I think you shall find you do not enjoy being fed upon,” I said, before grabbing her by the collar and pulling her neck down to biting height.

My fangs were in her before she had a moment to react, a small flow of blood as my jaw gripped on. Then her soul-energy began to flow, draining into my own reserves.

The flow of energy was richly flavoured, the mixing of energy from two different souls providing a complexity regular humans lacked. Perhaps Yari’s co-soul was less brash and did not deserve to be fed on, but that was a minor concern. The message was for all of the new graduates. For the present, as well, I was focused on savouring the mixed flavours, a luxury one so rarely got to enjoy.

After a few moments, though, the flow of energy from two souls was too much, and I unclamped my jaws, full to the brim. Both her souls were still connected to her body, however, and scientific study had shown the connection would fully restore within a few days.

With Yari slumped, I nudged her back into the arms of another young female Klivanion. The other woman looked quite horrified.

“When she wakes up she should be quite able to tell you all what being fed on feels like,” I replied, before turning away from the gaping young graduates and lightly bounding out from the ring.

“Showy,” Temnyi grumbled.

“A lesson they won’t forget,” I countered, running a hand along my slicked back hair, to ensure it was all still in place.

-

We had left for Temnyi's small office, the room spartan and cold. Sitting in one of the hard chairs across from his desk, I leaned back, watching the nervous energy in his eyes.

“So, you visiting must surely mean one of two things has happened,” he muttered, clearly trying to puff up his own confidence. “Either you convinced your father to remove the ban on this research or… you have had enough and want the graduates to help you with your… succession.”

“I think you know which it is,” I replied flatly.

He gave a small and reluctant nod. “You would have likely been less stealthy with the former. Though, I must wonder about your plan. Even with the new graduates… you surely lack the manpower to overwhelm the Imperial Corps of Klivanions. There’s no way you could bring both a second and a weapon with you…”

“A second won’t be necessary. I plan to cut the old man’s head off myself,” I replied with a small shrug.

“B—but he’s the one who turned you?” Temnyi said, red eyes filling with confusion.

“Yours is not the only off the books operation I am engaged in. After careful digging, I have gotten my hands upon an old chemical cocktail that can turn off the loyalty inhibition that prevents one from harming their rodzic. It blocks a number of other inhibitions as well, but that is of minimal concern. Dearest daddy wouldn’t question if one of his precious girls were acting a little oddly.”

“You’re—you’re sure it works?” he asked, eyes glancing to Opiekun for confirmation.

“Lady Nosu ensured the test subjects were quite enthusiastic,” he replied simply.

My lips tightened as I remembered. “Some of those little biters were surprisingly creative as well… the cocktail definitely works.”

Temnyi gave a small nod, a terror clearly running through him. Killing one’s rodzic—that is, killing the vampire who turned one into a vampire, was generally considered a bit of a faux-pas in polite circles, but it had been done before. Sometimes through mental fortitude, often driven by exceptional hate and betrayal. Other times by way of treatments akin to what I was planning.

Still, with such assassinations being a frowned upon action, it would be essential that we secured the royal palace quickly. The act needed to be a fait-accompli before any organized resistance was pulled together. Most of the lesser families would still grumble regardless of how well I had secured the throne, but I could live with grumbling. Open revolt during the confusion of the coup was rather less ideal.

“Do you have enough support?” Temnyi asked. “Even if your father is out of the way… you’ll need a few lords ready to step forward to support you to get the others to fall in line.”

“Must you show so little faith in my planning, Temnyi?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

“I’m sorry, your grace… it is just a lot to take in. We’ve talked about it for so long, but the idea that it will be happening so soon,” he muttered, and I could tell he was trying to run the math on an escape plan.

Temnyi was an exceptional instructor for Klivanions. It was impossible to question that, but he was also rather prone to putting his own neck above all other concerns. There was a reason he was the last survivor of his line. While other vampires chose to associate ourselves with bats, fellow creatures of blood and darkness, Temnyi was assuredly a rat.

But he was my rat, and I needed the intelligence that came so tied to his priority for self preservation.

“We have the basics of a battle strategy ready for seizing the palace as I deal with my father, but it would be deeply appreciated if you were to look them over,” I said, nodding to Opiekun. “Your tactical prowess remains unmatched amongst my allies.”

He produced a small data-stick, passing it over to Temnyi. A few moments later it was inserted into the thin computer in the desk and the two men went to work discussing strategies. From time to time, I could offer input, but literal battlefields were not where I did my best work. Politics and research were my bread and butter.

Soon enough my opinions on strategic priorities were no longer needed, and I decided to stretch out my legs. While it had been a few years since I had last visited the base, I remembered the basic layout well enough to find my way to one of the training halls.

Walking towards the centre of the large room, I paused to take a breath and study my reflection. So flush with life energy from Yari and her co-soul, I looked almost alive and human in the mirror. A pleasing departure from the slow shift towards an unsettling deathliness that mirrors usually presented a vampire (a wrongness that led most to avoid their reflections).

After taking the moment to enjoy the view, I drew the sabre I carried with me, shifting into a combat stance before running through a number of forms. Memory, both of the brain and of muscles, needed frequent drills to be maintained. Even after centuries of practice. Still, after all this time working with the curved sabre in my hands, it was like an extension of my body. A natural defense for any moment I might be forced to defend myself in the world of backstabbing and assassination attempts that was the un-life of vampiric royalty.

I was halfway through a third drill when I noticed an audience forming. A number of the young Klivanions had gathered at the entrance to the hall, seeming mesmerized by the way the moulinets arced through the air. It was a far more fluid and graceful form of bladework than their brutal near-grappling with executioner’s swords.

Deciding to have a bit of fun, I spun around and made a lunge for one of them, flicking the blade at the last moment so that the back of the blade wrapped around the rear of their neck, pulling him closer. It was the one who’d been used as a shield earlier, recognisable by the dried blood on his face where the earlier cut had been.

“That was beautiful,” he muttered.

“That was what you all will have to fight,” I replied, returning my sabre to its sheath with a small flourish. I turned my attention to the others who were gathered. “You need to remember that vampires have centuries more experience than any of you. They are also as strong and as fast as any of you can manage, even with the work done to each of you to improve your bodies.”

There were a number of nods, fear in the eyes of the tattooed faces gathered around me. They had likely learned Temnyi’s fighting philosophy by now, and assumed that was an indication they stood a better chance against vampires in general than they did. It was important to firmly shake such foolishness from their minds.