Solheim was not the paradise Lefebvre was lead to believe. The habitable areas were too cold for his tropical-thinned blood and lacked the luxurious resort beaches of his home world. The Solheim sun was far and the days too short. Sometimes he wished there was no crimsonite here, nor Echasian bloodstock so popular. Otherwise he would have never been forced to marry a cold wench and care for her dirty brat.

Perched in the observation bubble atop the large mining craft, Lefebvre enjoyed a nice port wine. He needed it to smooth his nerves. Sometimes he added a little elixir to help quell the shakes. Today, he had to keep control. He balled a gloved free hand to reinforce his sense of control. The off-worlders had invited him for an inspector tour of the facilities. Sent by Viceroy Ochoa, and to curry favor from the viceroy, Lefebvre sought to cater to their every need.

“Yes, yes,” Lefebvre said, waving with his wine glass hand. “We will offer complete protection, never you worry, my friend.”

The two off-worlders turned to face him. The taller one had sparkling metallic gold eyes that bore no resemblance to the human equivalent. Lefebvre didn’t know what bothered him most, the impassive eyes that stared holes into you or the web of circuitry that bracketed his face. The shorter man, whom Lefebvre took as the cyborg’s master was equally strange. For a man of his position, he looked unappealing to Lefebvre’s eyes. Chunta was his name, and what kind of name was that, Lefebvre asked himself. He’d forgotten the cyborg’s name, but that didn’t matter. At lease he was human.

Chunta wore a large chain of gold with flecks of sparkling crimsonite holding a swirling globe medallion over a kaftan trimmed in a lavish silver brocade. Lefebvre had asked what the globe medallion symbolized, but the man refused to answer. Either out being polite or timidity, Lefebvre didn’t press the issue. He watched the man pace back and forth watching the valley the lay bellow them while his cyborg watched on motionless.

“We will not worry,” Chunta said as he stuck his hands into the opposite ends of his massive hanging sleeves and turned cold eyes onto Lefebvre. “If there is an imminent threat, it will be neutralized. With or without your…service.”

Lefebvre wanted to confirm that the machine could perform as required. He didn’t care too much about what happened to the land nor the people. Solvang, the ancestral ranch home of Glen Sola, was on the other side of the continent. Far and safely away. The observation bubble gave him a panoramic view and he could see the growing mob of people stretch back for miles. They snaked their way through the valley floor until their stopped in front of the mining camp. The perpetual frown on Lefebvre face deepened as he called for his valet.

“Bertie, do you see this?” Lefebvre said.

“See what, milord?” Gilbert Fresco asked, leaning his tall frame over his master’s head.

Long serving as a Lefebvre’s majordomo, Hebert Fresco disapproved anything that went against the wishes of his master. He wrinkled his large brow and grunted in distaste. Fresco and his family had served the glenlords of Vega for generations and schooled on the proper relationship between a glenlord and his citizens. In his service to the Lord Proctor, he found many things not permitted, had they been on a glen’Vega ruled world.

“These Solanites take their liberties too far, milord,” Fresco said. “In all my time of service I have never seen such unforgiveable behavior.”

“Yes, Fresco,” Lefebvre said, letting the scorn drip from his lips, “They take their liberties to far, don’t they…”

Unbeknownst to him, the cyborg had moved to take a look at the growing mob. “We are under attack,” the cyborg said in its near metallic voice.

Lefebvre shot a glance at Chunta who held up a hand to forestall any action from the cyborg.

“We are guests, here, Commander Forge,” Chunta said, “Let us see this protection our hosts promised us.”

Lefebvre stroked his pointy goatee and pondered the ways he would show these troublesome people who’s in charge. He tapped his wrist-com and called up the commander of his personal guard. A tiny holographic form of a uniformed soldier appeared in a haze of blue.

“Colonel De La Gossa, I want you to arm a regiment of Household Guard in riot gear and deal with this problem. The use of deadly force is authorized,” Lefebvre commanded.

“As you command, Lord,” the holographic figure replied. The stoic figure of Colonel Henri De La Gossa nodded and saluted before disappearing.

“There, you see,” Lefebvre said to off-worlders, “Colonel De La Gossa will clear this up immediately…you’ll see.”

Lefebvre nodded and prodded his guests to watch as a fully armed regiment of Glen Vega Household Guards stormed out of the facility. They stood three lines deep. The first row was dressed in combat armor and menacing helmets that provided complete protection. They carried yard long force shields and charged force batons that could incapacitate with one blow. They were the shield wall, ready to repel any attack and respond with heavy force.

The second row of troopers, dressed as the front row, carried their force shields in the opposite arm to give an overlap of protection. Instead of force batons, they carried six-foot long stun rods that extended past the wall of shields. Shaped like a miniature lance used for jousting, the stun rods served a dual offensive and defensive role. Capped with a metal tip, they could blunt an assault before they reached the shield wall and was an effective offensive tool when pressing an attack. Intending to stun a person, if set to the highest setting, they could send enough of an electrical charge to kill.

The third row of troopers were the deadliest. Geared in the lighter version of battle armor as their companions, they carried no force shields and armed with a pulsed electromagnetic long barreled assault rifle. This weapon fires an electric energy beam to overload the nervous system and cause from temporary paralysis, on a low setting, to permanent paralysis, on a high setting. Although banned from regular use due to repeated accidental paralysis, Lefebvre’s authorization of lethal force allowed them to be used.

Lefebvre, serving as Lord Protector of Solheim tried to contained his excitement at the carnage he was about to unleash and witness. He settled in his chair as Fresco called up the image of the opposing forces on a view screen. Lefebvre admired the discipline of his Household Guard, their silver and black armor gleaming in the sunlight. They stood tall and firm against the chaotic and unruly horde that threatened to storm the gates.

“What’s taking so long,” Lefebvre said, a foot gyrated as he chewed on his finger nails. “Attack already…”

He tapped his wrist-com again. “Colonel, what’s the hold up, why aren’t you dispersing this rebellious mob?”

Colonel De La Gossa took too long to reply. Lefebvre brooded. This time, instead of a tiny version of the commander, a full-sized version materialized in front of the view screen.

“Lord, we were giving the opportunity to disperse and return to their homes, before any action is taken,” De La Gossa said.

“Did I say to do that, Colonel!” Lefebvre erupted out of his seat and charge the holographic figure pointing a finger at him. “I want you to disperse them now, sweep them out of my sight, Colonel, these uncivilized county vermin must be put into their place!”

To his credit, or better still, used to the venomous eruptions of his liege, Colonel De La Gossa bowed his head and clicked his heals. “Yes, lord, as you wish.”

“Humph,” Lefebvre said as he slowly took his seat.

Fresco appeared and wiped the dribble of his cheek and offered another glass of port. Lefebvre took a deep inhale of the soothing liquid before drinking. Feeling better he dismissed his servant with a final command.

“I wish to be alone now, Bertie,” Lefebvre said, “Please escort our guests to a more suitable vantage to witness our power.”

“Yes, lord,” Fresco said. The man bowed and his somber look lifted. He hated to see his master disturbed so, and with a wave of his hand to the off-worlders, Fresco led them out of the observation bubble.

As his valet departs, Lefebvre didn’t see the shadow enter behind him.

“They will make trouble for you, you know…”

The shadow’s smooth silky words wrapped around his ears, tickling until he shuddered. He turned to face the feminine presence dressed in a snow white death shroud laced with crimson and gold brocade. The sight of her sent another shiver down his spine.

“What do you want, woman.” Lefebvre hissed, “Or do you enjoy tormenting me even in death?”

A wraithlike smile spread on the shadow’s face and her arms curl around his thin shoulders. She bent low and whispered in his ear. Lefebvre twitched as the words pierced him.

“My poor little Jean, don’t you love me anymore? Or was those smooth words, just sweet enough to slip into my bed and cut my throat?”

Lefebvre jerked back, away from the sector’s reach, huddled in a corner.

“I didn’t kill you, you bitch, I…I…tried to save…It wasn’t me!”

He tried to swallow the fear that threatened to overwhelm him and close his eyes to the searing laughter that rang in his ears. He tried to erase the image of his wife’s death. Her cold stiff body, with accusing eyes still open. Blood splatter covering her sheets and an assassin’s knife held in his hands.

Lefebvre had that knife destroyed and all evidence of his part in her death removed. He also bribed the proper official to do it for him. He knew few believed that he innocent of his wife’s death. but, he told the lie for so long, he had believed it as fact.

Still shivering, Lefebvre felt the shadow’s lips on his forehead and give him an ethereal kiss.

“She is coming for you…my dear Lefebvre…and I will watch you die just as you did me.”

“She is dead,” He chanted, “she is dead, burnt, and no more.” Lefebvre repeated those words as he got to his feet, still hugging himself, stumbling to his chair before sinking down into it.

“That bitch is dead,” He said with more conviction. “That bitch is dead and I’ll make sure her brat joins her.”

He stewed in his resolve, finishing the port with large swallows that burned away his fear-now that the shadow had departed. He didn’t know why the apparition of his dead wife haunted him, but he will be vindicated. A smile curled on his face as watched his men tear into the crowd. Force shields and batons slammed hard against them. Stun rods and sonic assault rifles left bodies in their wake. It was more than a slaughter.

“That’s right, you slut bitch,” Lefebvre said aloud, chuckling and lifting his head up to the sky, “Who’s laughing now, huh? Who’s fucking laughing now?”

He pointed to the carnage below than bellowed with smoke. “I’ll burn this whole damned planet before you get me!”

Next Chapter: Chapter 2: The Saberwolf