Despite their unbroken run of military victories in the three centuries since the Dominion's founding, the Mechari determined a need for new blood. While tactically ingenious, the Cassians lacked a certain zeal for carnage that the Mechari's most recent battle metrics unanimously agreed would efficiently bring upstart races to heel. Shock troops of a more savage aspect were required.

After meticulously studying thousands of species to analyze their combat effectiveness, the Mechari had advised Azrion, the reigning Luminai emperor and son of Dominus Half-Blood, that the savage Draken of the volcanic planet Mikros would be ideal. But the loyalty of these ferocious hunters could not be won through parley.

The Mechari disliked leaving critical matters to chance. Prior to landing on Mikros in 344 AE, they had extensively studied and simulated the most probable fighting styles of the High Clanlord. Exhaustively they analyzed his techniques: his tendency to go for the carotid, his signature hamstring, and his insatiable fondness for decapitations. Then they devoted their arts to probing them for weakness and designing countermeasures. They isolated his vulnerabilities: the decades old ankle injury that had never healed, his mortal dread of infection, and the brittle base of his left horn. Then they systematically devised methods of exploiting them.

Azrion had been bred and trained his whole life for this bout. Races with a culture based around honor, the Mechari had instructed them, were predictable prey, easy to manipulate. But the more Azrion studied Zhur, the more convinced he became that the Mechari were wrong. He improvised. He adapted. He used cunning when least expected and retaliated with reserves undreamed of. He was a perfect fighter, and the Mechari for all their own perfection were unable to see it. Without fail, Azrion told them what they wanted to hear. But inwardly he vowed that this would be a fair contest, free of persiflage. His only hope in defeating Draken honor was not to disdain it but adopt it. And become its master.

Within hours of the Cassians' arrival, the pair reached the sacred dueling ground just outside the Draken capital of Red River. There they would decide by blood the fate of two empires and thousands of worlds.

Source: World Story