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   Chapter 183 No.183

The Galaxii Series Omnibus 1 By Christina Engela Characters: 5521

Updated: 2018-06-30 19:02


A man, presumably the proprietor, delivered two tankards of ale and went on his way. Blachart knew well that although Adam might have preferred a cup of tea, it couldn't be guaranteed they would have anything of a higher order on their wine list. If they even had such a luxury as a wine list.

"Over the years it's always been the same." Adam related to the fresh young face of Ensign Brenton, seated across the rough-hewn wooden table between them. "It's always been the two of them. Martel the Mighty, and Sona Kilroy the Hammer. One, the Patron who runs the show – the other, the Admiral of the Black Fleet, who maintains it – brothers to the end... Each one feeding the other's egos and lust for violence and self-glorification."

"Brothers?" The other asked, over his plastic mug of foamy golden yellow brew. "Really?"

"Oh yes." He nodded. "One big unhappy fucked up family."

Martel Kilroy was the elder, Adam explained. The Kilroy brothers had risen through the ranks together, like in the Corsair legends of old, through violence, cunning and brutality – their rise fueled by increasing popularity with the Corsair military machine – and public opinion. Working as a team, Sona and Martel reached the pinnacle of Corsair power, and rather than the usual rivalry between Corsair leaders, amiably shared it. This made a strong, seemingly unbreakable powerbase in Corsair politics. Both men received the admiration of their people, and being family – blood family – their bond was strong, unbreakable by the petty ambitions of other contenders. This knowledge wasn't new to him, but the realization that both brothers had escaped the turmoil

'Go to Hell!'

And the weapons Mack, To send 'em there!"

"Oh – Blachart the Bloody they called him, Blachart the Red!

First a loyal son an' brother

A Corsair Cap'n like no other…

Blachart the Bloody they called him, Blachart the Red.

A bringer of sorrows, traitor to all, A man best made dead!"

Adam's expression changed several times during the remainder of the song, which went on to detail how it was his fault that the Corsair civilization had to be relocated to Endicor, Martel and Kilroy's heroic roles in rebuilding it, and basically that karma is a bitch and she had his number. A round of cheering and clashing tankards concluded the anthem, and the crowd went about their business, which seemed to consist of drinking and eating, and burping and farting loudly at leisure. At least it quieted down a bit after the song. The food wasn't bad, and they were hungry – and anyway, Adam didn't like killing people on an empty stomach. Besides, he had to plan what to do next, now that they were here. It was a lot easier, Blachart figured, now that he wasn't being sung about.

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