I forgot what I wrote this for

The Count sat in a spider-legged robotic chair, and looked upon the mirrors of their passage. His hands were folded upon his knee; and the set of his old bones grim, stalwart, and inexpressibly weary. Reflected in the screens about his head, light and gaseous vapor streamed past his craft, ribbons of orange, crimson, purple, blue. A second bank, at his elbow, showed rushing lines, vectoring towards convergence.
A few paces, Invictus Victor looked on with dissatisfaction. “Sir, the emissary drone we dispatched from Luna has failed and been destroyed. My lady sister is dead or lost, and our ship has been identified.”
Zav the Torturer, somewhat further off, hung by his shoulders from a spar. His eyes opened, and he blinked once. His voice was the soft rasp of metal and the hiss of snakes. “The General called his Mentality. The Gaius Gulo is nearest: on maneuvers at Caoh VII. They will be on us in two, or three, hours at the most.” A cold whine of regret crept into his voice. “You should have killed the Senator, Unvanquished…”
Invictus answered him and the second screen’s countdown both. “We are pressed for time. Our numbers are less; the Martian Composition is now our enemy. Only a hundred days remain!”
“It is,” said Zav the Torturer, his eyes drifting closed, “A lot to do. You should have killed the little Senator, Invictus!”
Invictus said softly, “Sir, with your permission, Zav and I will arm the Tower modules, and cover your escape.”
The Count lifted his hands, yet unwashed of blood and dust. He said wearily, “It is known that each of us bears the destruct codes from Senator Nadine’s brain. You each will falsify your data, in case of capture. I hold one unaltered copy, and Lady Carmilla, if she lives, another. Gentlemen, haste. A universe dies in a hundred days.”


Author: leighbrackettsland

Student. Reader. Watcher. Dabbler.

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