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Chapter 20

Honour and pride are often confused for each other. During the Age of the Warlords, many atrocities were committed in the supposed name of 'honour.' In truth, they were little more than gestures based on a need to preserve one's sense of pride. Humiliation in the presence of one's peers was like bleeding in a pool filled with Marak sharks. Weakness was akin to blood in the water, and to show it or experience it in public was the fastest way to bring about your own end.

Wars between empires were often started this way. It was just such an incident that sparked the conflict which led to my Clan's continued hatred towards the Clan of the Midnight Fang.

The Tiger's Paw Clan served a moderately gentle Warlord, known as Orok the Benevolent. The Midnight Fang served a hot tempered ambitious Warlord named Asrog the Strong. During a visit to Orok's domain, Asrog stopped off at a small tavern to partake of its offerings. While there, one of the barmaids accidentally spilled a cup of wine on Asrog's tunic. In his rage, Asrog slew the barmaid on the spot, not knowing that she was one of Orok's preferred 'distractions' when his mate became too much for him to bear.

When news reached the Warlord of his mistress' demise, he flew into a rage, assembling the many Clans under his command and ordering them to reduce Asrog's domain to dust. Needless to say, Asrog retaliated, and for the next 20 years the two Warlords threw everything they had at each other...all over a spilled cup of cheap wine.

Retaliation for humiliation is still prevalent today, though the results aren't nearly as drastic as they were. We've all felt it before...that urge to growl or claw at someone who laughs at our misfortune. Sure, we normally laugh it off and try to get on with our day, but for that one lingering moment, we glare at those who laugh, and feel the urge to silence them with more than a smile.

This was why I told Te'Ki that I couldn't go to Grandfather with what I'd deduced: Pride and retaliation. If I was right, and was able to convince the Council of it, Lars would at the very least be humiliated before his peers, or at the most face a Clan exile for such a treacherous act. While such intrigues like this in the old times were commonplace, under the Patrons' Laws Clans could not engage in open hostilities without Council sanction. By breaking such a sacred law, Lars was risking the honour of his entire Clan. Even his influence over the Council wouldn't let him escape completely unscathed.

However, such influence could spell doom for my family. If he wasn't exiled, he could still appeal to the Council for a war sanction against the Tiger's Paw. Under such a decree, all of Lars' forces could march on my family's estate and either force a surrender, or execute them all outright. While allies were allowed to aid a Clan under such sanction, no one in the Karalla City area had any kind of real force to resist the Midnight Fang.

Should the Council decide to exile the Rondokis, the end result would be the same, just without the formality of a sanction. No longer bound by Clan law, they could simply advance on my family's estate and murder the lot of them. Again, with no one else possessing the numbers to defend against them, my family would be helpless to stop them. Experienced fighters as they were, the Kalamars were just too few to stand up against the inbred militia the Midnight Fang had become.

For the sake of his pride, Lars Rondoki wouldn't let us live.

I sat there, unable to look at Te'Ki. I told her why I couldn't reveal this revelation to anyone, not even to Grandfather. If I was right, and Lars had indeed concocted this entire scenario, then the blow to his pride and his honour would be devastating. If I was wrong, I'd still be executed on the spot for failing to appeal my exile.

Either way, the end result was the same.

I felt her hand on my shoulder, and as much as I felt I didn't deserve it I made no move to shrug it off. Ashamed as I was that I'd let her down so, I still needed her...needed her to somehow still believe in me despite this. Slowly I reached for that hand and squeezed it gently.

"No amount of redemption is worth that much risk," I said. "Even if I'm completely wrong, just suggesting it to the Council could set it all in motion."

"So what now?" she asked. That was the real question, wasn't it? Two days ago I could have answered that with a smile on my lips and a spring in my step. Back then the Clans could have hanged for all I cared. They'd seen fit to make me an outcast, then what possible reason could I have had for wanting to return? The reasons behind my exile weren't my fault, so why should I seek to make them see through their own collective stupidity?

That was two days ago. Now, sitting in this dwelling, which seemed smaller now, I realized the magnitude of my situation. Sure, I knew the truth, or rather had a good idea of what happened, and now that I did, I wasn't sure if it gave me closure or simply made an already hopeless situation more so.

"I don't know anymore," I said. She came around to face me and sat on my lap. "I don't know if I can just go back to the way things were...before I asked those questions. I mean, now that I know..."

"Would it help if I told you it didn't matter?" she interrupted. My eyes must have widened, because she nodded slowly. "I'm not here because of any chance at redemption," she said. "I love you no matter what, and who knows? Maybe this is some kind of sign that you're not meant to go back. Maybe you're meant for something different...something more."

I chuckled dryly. "Hell of a sign," I muttered. "Can't get much more obvious than knowing an entire army stands between you and the life you once knew." In truth, until she hinted at it, I never once suspected her of staying around just to see if there was a chance we could re-join the society from which we'd both been cast out. There wasn't much I could have done for her in that respect. Unless the Council owed me a favour, the most I could do was put in a good word at her High Appeal.

"Maybe the gods wanted the message to stick," she said with a smirk. Her face turned serious after that, and in those amber eyes I saw that same look of sincerity she'd given me after our second kiss. "I mean it, Dalan," she said, all humour in her voice gone. "If the gods have put such an obstacle in front of you, it can only mean that they don't want you to become part of that society again."

"I suppose," I said. Admittedly it was hard to think of anything but her at that moment. "I guess I just never thought about it that much. I mean, I knew someday I'd have to make that decision...I just thought I'd have more time."

Te'Ki leaned in and kissed me lightly. "When I left the land of the Tribes, even though I knew there was no going back, I didn't want to leave," she said. "But I had to...I had to leave behind everything I ever knew in order to survive. Now you have to do the same thing. But, unlike me...you've got someone to stand beside you."

I collected her into my arms and held her tightly. She was right; even a fully trained L'au Tari would be hard-pressed to break into the Rondoki estate, much less hope to make it out alive. Sure, Daro and his goons had shown me what I was capable of, but only because they were used to no one resisting them. The Rondokis, however, were all experienced fighters. If any of them were a tenth as skilled as Lars, only a maniac would think of storming that place on their own.

It seemed the gods were indeed trying to tell me something.

"You should get ready," she said as we broke the embrace. I glanced at my watch. Sadly, she was right. As much as I wanted to pursue another form of workout, I had made a promise to Khrasa to see my training through. No matter what direction in which my life was headed, my training would remain a constant until the day Te'Ki and I finally left this planet for the stars.

I nodded and, giving her one last kiss I let her go. She got off me and within a few minutes I was ready. I wouldn't see her again until early the next morning, but knowing she would be waiting for me afterwards gave me the resolve I needed to open that door and head for the highway.

As I walked, the resolve I'd felt earlier while in her arms began to fade away...feel less absolute. While I did want to spend the rest of my life with her, that sense of justice we all have wouldn't stop harassing me. How could I let the Rondoki get away with this...with destroying my life and shaming my family all for some trinket? What kind of favour did they have with the Patrons that allowed them to play with other people's lives like pieces on a chess board? Surely, this couldn't be the final chapter in all this, could it?

I closed my eyes and tried to calm myself as I called for a transit shuttle. I could feel that need for justice begin to degrade into an almost primal need for vengeance. Beyond answering for this apparent crime against me, I wanted to make Lars suffer for putting my family through this...for putting me through this. I didn't want so much to see him humiliated before the Council as I wanted him to feel the way Daro did when he thought he was going to die at my hands. An almost erotic shiver coursed through my body as I envisioned that cursed panther's muzzle, bloody and broken, staring up at me begging for mercy. I knew full well that were we placed in that position, not even the hands of the Patrons would stop me from following it through.

However, as I opened my eyes and beheld the shuttle approaching, I realized that such a situation could never happen. Lars was never alone; even when he attended Council sessions he always travelled with an entourage. There would be no chance of getting him alone, dragging his carcass into some dark alley and working him over like he deserved. No...I feared only time, age, and perhaps guilt would be my only real justice against him.

It wasn't much of a consequence, but for one person against an army, it was really all one could hope for...wasn't it?

* * *

The training session did me a world of good, mostly because it kept my mind off the decision I'd made, and forced my attention on my opponents.

Te'Ki's admission that my status didn't matter to her had probably influenced my decision a lot more than I had originally thought. Away from her, I was beginning to doubt that decision. Sure, it was safer way to duck and cover, but was it the right way? Lars needed to be called out on this. He needed to answer for this crime against me, my Clan and all the other Clans. I knew such a thing would probably mean my death, but would that be so bad if it meant justice would be served?

I narrowly avoided a punch aimed at my head, which snapped me back to the present. I followed my block of that punch with a hard open-hand punch to his chest. I would learn later that had the opponent been real, I would have cracked two ribs with that one shot.

My opponent staggered back, but quickly recovered and went for a high roundhouse kick. I spun in the same direction, dropping down and catching him in a foot sweep. It connected, and the jaguar hologram fell to the ground. I was on him a heartbeat later and delivered a hard punch to his throat. The computer registered that as a proper ending blow, and the prone hologram soon faded from view.

"Enough," Sensei said as I looked up. I let out a long, calming breath, trying to slow my mind down. Out of the 10 opponents I'd faced in this sparring session, five of them had laid me out while the other five had succumbed. Fifty percent wasn't that great, but it was an improvement. Hells, even my five losses weren't that easy. At the very least, I'd gone down fighting.

"You seemed more...aggressive today," Sensei remarked as we proceeded to clean up. "Is everything all right?"

"I'm not sure," I said after a time. "I...I might know the real reason why I was exiled...about what really happened to the Ka'al P'ack." There was no use lying to him; to do so would most likely cost me my training.

"I take it that is good news," he said, though his tone really hadn't changed.

"Maybe," I replied. "Thing is, if I'm right in my suspicions and I pursue it, things could end...well...badly for both me and my family."

"You believe another Clan is involved." It wasn't a question. "Have you any real proof?"

"Just speculation and logic," I said. "Even if I'm right, I don't think they let me live very long after exposing them."

"I see," he said. We didn't really talk after that....just bent to the task of returning his dance studio to a more peaceful state. In truth, I was relieved he didn't pursue it any further. I guessed his opinion would have been for me to confront the Clans and regain my honour. Of course, such a move on my part would end my training with him, which wouldn't sit well with either one of us.

After helping him put everything away and rearrange that which was left, I went to go change. Once that was done I checked my watch. I still had enough time to grab something to eat before having to report to work. I hoped that the majority of last night's fallout had been dealt with. It would be nice just to show up to work, put in my time and head home...and not have to endure endless hours of questions. Despite the seriousness of what had been found at the docks the night before, the place still had to function. Compensating for any backlogs and delays would mean a lot of extra work, shorter breaks, and more overtime than I believe any of us were willing to endure.

"A word of advice," Sensei said as I turned to go. "Right now, you see before you two choices: To remain hidden, or to step into the light. One choice is safe, the other just. What path you choose will ultimately steer the course of your life from this day on."

I nodded. "Neither choice seems all that appetizing," I admitted. "Stay safe and let the guilty go free, or risk my life and the lives of my family in the name of justice."

"Perhaps," he said, "a third choice exists."

"A third choice?"

"Perhaps. Think about it, Dalan. In time it will reveal itself to you. When it does, give it as much thought as you would have the other two." I wasn't sure what he was talking about, but I also didn't have time to ask. We bowed to each other and I quickly headed off to work.

I knew no matter what the night held for me, that mysterious third choice would be foremost in my mind. I knew it would haunt me until I discovered what it was...what Sensei was trying to tell me...

Part of me wishes I'd forgotten about it altogether...especially considering what it would end up costing me.

* * *

By the time I reached the break room and prepared for my shift, the investigation had been pretty well wrapped up by the authorities. Based on what I'd heard in the change room from the day shift, whoever had shipped the Caronite had been rather sloppy. There was so much physical evidence left in the container that the investigating officers were able to notify their Lakayan counterparts while I was still asleep in Te'Ki's arms. They were confident that by the end of the day, everyone involved in this plot would be rounded up and brought to justice.

At the mention of the word 'justice,' I remember wincing slightly as I realized that even if my hunch was right about the Rondokis and what they did to me, justice would be something they never saw for it. It seemed that justice would be served for everyone except me...all because of some rivalry that should have died out centuries ago. It seemed that pride still ran strong in the Clans...so much so that even after the Warlords were naught but ash on the pyres, old hatreds still remained.

Sensei's hint at some kind of 'third option' constantly buzzed in the back of my mind as I accepted my assignment. It seemed that even though the investigation was over for the police, the job of making sure everything was as normal as it was supposed to be was not. My job this night was simple if tedious: Compare, via visual inspection, the theoretical layout of the containers in a section of the yard with what was actually there. It was simple in that all I had to do was verify the containers' locations, scan their identification tags with a portable scanning unit, and move on to the next container. If there were any errors detected, one of the operators would be dispatched to rearrange the containers into their proper places.

As I thought about those operators and the equipment they used to pick and place these massive containers, my thoughts drifted once more to my original plan...the slow, pragmatic plan I had to eventually put light years of space between myself and the Clans...with Te'Ki at my side. The prospect of that fresh start on another world helped greatly to cool the fires of retribution I'd been feeling earlier. I was sure that by the time my shift ended I would feel all right about my original safe choice once more. It wasn't so much an acceptance of my fate I was feeling; gods knew that if payback was possible, I'd be more than willing to claim it. No...it was more a sense of accomplishment...as though Te'Ki and I could achieve whatever dreams we wanted through honest work and just living our lives. Who cared if we lived said lives millions of miles away from here? It wasn't like there was much keeping us here anymore.

I finished up my first five sections rather quickly; everything seemed to be in order. With any luck I would finish my allotted section in good time and impress Allister....one step closer to that ultimate goal. I knew some of my fellow dock rats would scoff at me for trying to over-achieve, but knew I'd be the one laughing when I finally handed in my resignation to Mr. Barkav, knowing that not too long after I would be starting a brand new life far from Bengalis...far from the Clans...far from everything.

I was nearly at my next section when I heard something. It sounded like a muffled cry followed by...something else. Normally I wouldn't have paid it any mind, but when I heard the same sound again my curiosity was piqued. I began moving toward the sound, trying to stay as quiet as possible. I didn't know why, but something deep inside told me that whatever I was heading towards, announcing my presence would not be wise.

I'm not sure which of my senses reacted strongest as I approached. My ears could much more clearly hear the muffled cries of someone in pain, as well as several other voices. In the still evening air, I could smell traces of some pungent odour...very similar to what I smelled coming off Daro when I had him at my mercy. That smell I could never forget, and as I inhaled it I could feel my predatory senses begin to come alive. It was fear I was smelling in the air...the fear coming from whomever was making those crying noises. I stretched my whiskers forward, and was rewarded by a sense of imminent danger ahead. I paused to put down my scanning equipment and readied myself for whatever lay ahead.

I followed the sounds and scent through a small maze of containers and soon found myself nearing a dimly lit clearing of sorts. These particular containers had been arranged in such a way that they created a void...a space large enough for a small gathering of people that had only one way in and one way out. The smell of fear was almost overpowering now, and the formerly muffled cries rang clear in my head.

They were pleas for mercy.

I risked a quick glance around the corner and felt my jaw drop open in horror. Illuminated by a couple of portable lanterns were a group of people surrounding someone. I didn't recognize the snow leopard kneeling there, his hands bound behind his back, but I did recognize the six surrounding him. They were the same ones who constantly made known their disdain for exiles in the break room. A few of them I recognized as having those bloodied knuckles the day the ocelot exile had his 'accident.' I felt a shiver run up my spine as I realized what I'd stumbled into. I quickly ducked away and pressed my back against the container. Part of me wanted to run for help...another part wanted to stay and find out what would happen...

And another part of me...wanted to do something about it...

"Another damned exile," I heard one of them say. "Bad enough your own Clan didn't kill you, now you have to come down here and take jobs away from decent folk?" I winced as I heard the distinctive sound of a fist smacking that poor snow leopard across the muzzle. I clenched my fist, feeling my claws emerge. If I used them against these packlas, they would probably peg me as an exile too, which would force me to either admit it and lose this job...or deal with them in a very real and permanent sense.

"But...I'm no exile," the pleading snow leopard said. That earned him another smack, from which I heard him yowl in pain.

"You're an exile if I say you are," growled the speaker. "You should've just minded your own business and moved on instead of sticking your nose where it didn't belong."

"But I didn't see anything," the snow leopard insisted.

"Wish I could believe you," the speaker said. His tone was one of mock sympathy. He wouldn't have cared if that snow leopard had sworn on his family's life that he was telling the truth. I felt my stomach churn as I realized this. Whatever that poor soul had seen or done, the only way this was going to end was with his murder...covered up conveniently as another exile suicide.

"I swear...I didn't see anything," the snow leopard said again. "No...please...I...I have a family."

"The docks are a dangerous place," the speaker said mockingly. "Accidents happen, you know." The others laughed again, and I knew the silence that followed was everyone preparing for the final event. My whiskers could feel the building tension, and I could almost see the speaker raising some kind of weapon, preparing to strike this hapless snow leopard down.

In my mind's eye I envisioned his mate and children receiving the news. I could almost hear her screams as she realized the love of her life would never return home again. How could anyone wilfully deprive a child of its father? Who were these packlas to think they held that kind of sway? Who made them the givers of life and death here? What gave them the right?

Flashes of that night in the warehouse wormed their way into my thoughts. Back then there was nothing I could do to save them. Back then I was still trying to come to terms with what my life had become.

Back then...someone I once considered a friend held me back...

But that was then...

"Hold him!" I heard the speaker say. "I don't want to be at this all night." His tone was so casual...so confident. It made me sick. Had I not already decided my path, just hearing those words would have driven me over the edge.

I can't remember if I cursed before I rounded that corner, or if I just growled. What little I do remember is how the low light in the area concealed me almost perfectly. I was among them in a heartbeat, and the speaker was my first target. He had in his hand what looked to be a lead pipe. I can't remember if he dropped it or not...I only remember the scream when I dislocated his shoulder, rendering him useless except as someone screaming "GET HIM!" to his comrades.

I knew I wouldn't have much time before the others would react. I also knew there was no way to take them all out before that moment of revelation. All I could hope for was to even the odds as much as possible before I was faced with an honest fight. Even then, I wasn't sure what to expect from these people. I could only hope that like Daro and his comrades, these packlas had grown used to using intimidation to get what they wanted, and would fall apart at a real challenge.

I wasn't disappointed at first. While the remaining five were still trying to process what their fallen leader had said, I faded back into the shadows and struck at my next target. The lynx was unconscious before he hit the ground thanks to a quick chop to his neck. The cougar standing next to him turned only to receive a right cross. As he went down, I wondered if I'd perhaps hit him a bit too hard. What little I saw of his face told me I may have shattered his jaw.

"Over there!" I heard another one shout. Well, at least two of them wouldn't be a problem for me. This time I know I snarled, and based on the remaining three's reaction, my eyes had come alight like they had before. I only wish I'd been more confident in my abilities at that time, because while I only felt fear and apprehension at facing three people at once, I also felt a hint of the terrible pleasure at the three of them gazing in terror at me.

It would have been delicious...

More out of panic than rage, I charged the three of them, roaring as I did so. The middle one, a lion, reared back to take a swing at me. Compared to the training holograms I'd fought earlier that day, this guy was moving in slow motion. I easily dodged his swing, ducking under it and uppercutting his armpit. I mimicked the move I'd used on the leader and was rewarded with the 'pop' of his shoulder dislocating, and the subsequent howl of pain.

From a tactical standpoint, dividing the remaining two the way I did probably hadn't been the best move. I was reminded of this when I felt the punch from the cheetah on my right. I'd taken a few punches in my sparring matches, and I had to admit this was one of the stronger ones I'd felt. It dazed me for only a heartbeat, after which I countered with a gut punch that had him spitting blood. He crumpled to the ground, wheezing roughly.

That's when I felt it. The hit had been hard and I knew there would be some pain, but my vision began to grow spotty as the pain continued to rise. I fell to the ground and rolled onto my back to see my last opponent, a black panther, wielding the lead pipe his leader had been holding earlier. Even in the low light I could see the triumphant smirk on his muzzle...a look that suggested if he took that one last swing at me, and then dealt with the snow leopard, he'd get in good with the apparent leader of this little band.

He raised the bar over his head in order to bring it down, but I rolled out of the way at the last minute. I heard the pipe thud on the ground as it impacted...I didn't want to think of what my head would have looked like if it had still been there. I moved again almost without thinking as the pipe came down again, this time on the other side of me. Whoever this packla was, he had some experience dealing with beating people. He'd positioned himself in such a way that no matter what I tried, I had no leverage to topple him. I also had very little opportunity since he continued to try and strike me with that pipe. I moved as fast as I could, but I knew it wouldn't be long before the panther would strike true.

I suddenly heard a cry of desperate rage. The panther was just about to raise the pipe once more when the snow leopard crashed into him from the side, knocking them both to the ground. I only took a moment to catch my breath for I knew my saviour wouldn't last long against his opponent. I sprung to my feet and moved to where the panther and snow leopard were grappling. As I feared, the panther was too strong for his weakened opponent and had him pinned. I grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled with everything I had. His surprised scream as he sailed through the air was like music to my ears. The sound of his impact on the far wall of this little enclosure was even more satisfying.

I stormed over to my first victim of the evening. He was still lying on the ground, moaning and clutching at his useless shoulder. With a snarl I gripped his neck and forced him to look into my eyes, which I noticed were still glowing red thanks to their reflection in his own.

"Know this," I growled, trying hard to mask the euphoric feeling the Warning of the Voice was giving me. "I am watching you now. Harm another person in this place, and your fate is sealed. Say a word about what transpired here tonight, and you'll watch your friends die first before you. Do you understand?" He nodded, his entire body shaking.

I stood up and moved toward the opening. If any of the others were in any shape to retaliate, they wisely stayed down. Even the snow leopard remained on the ground until I turned the corner and put the place behind me.

The cool night air helped to calm me somewhat...at the very least it slowed my heart down and I could feel the rage fading. I half expected to be bent over somewhere, retching from all I'd done. Yet, all I felt was that little bit of nausea we all get when the adrenaline fades from the bloodstream. Beyond that, I felt nothing...no regret...no remorse...and no real satisfaction. The best way I could describe how I felt was...well...incomplete. It was as though simply pummelling those packlas wasn't enough.

I looked back at the arranged enclosure. A small growl escaped my throat as I thought about going back in there and finishing things permanently. I shivered at the thought. It would be so easy, wouldn't it? They were all either unconscious or too beaten to resist...how hard would it be to snap all their necks? It would be quick...far more merciful than any of the atrocities they'd no doubt committed and then covered up. That someone had simply stood up to them this night didn't seem enough. For all the blood that was on their hands, a simple scare tactic like this seemed almost feeble...petty.

I shook my head. The repercussions of that many corpses in such a place would no doubt bring the docks under very high scrutiny. Silas had said that an exile's forged identification was thin at best. Exiles survived like this by remaining out of tense situations. Any action that would call those ID's into question would surely reveal them for the fakes they were, and it would be nothing for the police to simply execute them on the spot. More likely they would be escorted back onto Clan lands and left to suffer the mercy of the Shatlia. No...As much as it would pain me to do so, I decided to let this lie for now. I would keep my eyes and ears alert though...ready to 'discourage' any further incidents like this from happening again.

I winced as I reached for my scanner to continue my work. I had a lot of time to make up, and from the feel of it my side was going to make that task as difficult as possible. I hoped that the bruise left behind wasn't too deep. He'd hit me good, but I'd suffered worse kicks in my sparring sessions. I could only hope that as my training progressed that I would learn to avoid getting hit like that again. Next time, the blow might not come from something so forgiving as a lead pipe.

Next time, it could come from a sword...

* * *

The events in the enclosure were surprisingly faded in my mind by the time my shift ended. Luckily, I'd made up the required time on my task, and managed to record the information properly. According to it, Allister had no idea that I'd taken a slight detour from my duties to save the life of someone who may or may not have been an exile.

"I must say, Mr. Kain," he said. "Your report is top notch...though it doesn't bode well for the night shift."

"Why's that?" I asked before I headed out of the break room.

"Well," he replied. "According to this manifest, several containers have been rather severely misplaced...enough so that someone could lose their job over it." He looked over the datapad once more. "Plus, it will mean the crane operators will be working to correct those errors as well as perform their regular duties. It will certainly be a busy night for them. As for you though, have a good night and we will see you tomorrow."

I nodded and made for the change house. I thought briefly of the enclosure as I walked, wondering about what Allister said. If he was right, and there were so many errors in the container placement on the grounds, then those packlas I'd dealt with earlier weren't alone. Such a place as they were in could never have been created by mere container arrangement; it made no logical sense. It had been created for them...a place to execute people out of the way of prying eyes. After that, the body could be placed anywhere and an accident report could be filed. The second the word 'exile' was attached, people like Sharaya no doubt skimmed over the report and filed it away.

Sharaya...was she a part of it? It was hard to say. She would probably not balk at the idea of an exile 'cleansing group' at the docks, given her obvious disdain for them. Still, her attitude aside she really didn't seem the type who would endorse murder, no matter who the victim was. Yes...she struck me as the type who would constantly complain about something, but didn't have the courage to do something about it. No...she was ignorant of what was going on, as far as I was concerned.

I felt myself beginning to purr softly as the hot water from the shower poured over me and soaked into my fur. The warmth held me like a lover's embrace, letting me forget everything that had happened. From my discussion with Te'Ki to the fight...it all washed away along with the fur shampoo I was rubbing into my body before rinsing and letting it all drain away.

Sadly, the shower was over far too soon, and as I began dressing in my civilian clothes all the thoughts of the day came back to me. Foremost in my mind, though, was that hollow feeling of injustice...that soft consolation decent folk are supposed to consider 'good enough' when it comes to punishing the guilty. Sure, society tells us that we should be above thoughts of direct retribution, but the term 'justice' in that respect sounds more like some ironic joke.

In truth, I wanted Lars to suffer for what he did to me. I wanted Daro to scream in agony for what he'd put Te'Ki through. I wanted Byreck to understand the anguish he'd put me through, forcing me back while that Shatlia cut those servals' throats. I also wanted to do more than just beat down those packlas from earlier tonight...I wanted their bodies to serve as an example of what true fate awaits those who would so easily take a life.

The cool air did little to clear my head of these thoughts. I was so preoccupied with them that I barely remembered passing through the security gate and summoning a transit shuttle. It wasn't until I was inside the shuttle heading for home that my conscious mind caught up to me. I sighed. The events of the day had left my mind far more frazzled than I thought I they would. This feeling of injustice was natural...a reaction to everything I'd learned and experienced. In a few days' time, things would calm down for me. Life would go on, and I would resume my quest to get Te'Ki and I as far away from Bengalis as we could. The truest justice for everything that had happened to us at the hands of our peers would be that we survived and thrived without them.

I closed my eyes and focused on Te'Ki...her smile...her eyes...her laugh. Yes...so long as I had her by my side everything else could simply burn. Lars could have his Ka'al P'ack and all his Clan glory. His true fate would be decided in the next life, when the Patrons called him to task for all he'd done with his time. I only wish that I could be present at that event, when Ke'an and the others all condemned him to the Seventh Hell...the Hell of the Wicked Incarnate. I could almost hear him screaming as he was flung over the cliff and sent plummeting down to the Dark One's inner sanctum.

My eyes opened in slits as another thought crossed my mind. Unconsciously, I dragged my tongue over my lips slowly, like a predator that had his prey dead to rights. I felt those same lips twist into a grin some would call evil.

The thought? The thought was how I would oh, so enjoy being the one that sent Lars before the Patrons...and held his heart in my hand as it beat its last.

At that, I began purring yet again...