Red's Tales: Ramaga's Wrath PT2

 PT2! We get to see Red in her teenage years, long before she became the Red of Caligula we know so well now. After the flashback we revisit her in the present where she crosses blades with a cocky duelist!

A teenaged Red blocked the slash aimed for her torso with the training blade and instantly parried a follow up attack to her leg as she backpedaled away from Ramaga. The blademaster bared his teeth as he advanced on her.

“Stop with the defensive tactics! You’ll never win that way!” He swiped at her torso again, “Go offensive, or you’ll never beat me.”

Heeding the advice, Red stepped forward with a thrust that was quickly swatted away.

“Sloppy! You never start with a thrust, it leaves you vulnerable!”

To emphasize this point, Ramaga cut for her shoulder. Red barely deflected the attack in time, she yelled and moved in closer making a diagonal cut for the blademaster. He parried the blow.

“Better.”

Red went low with a blow to his leg, this too was parried, but Ramaga stumbled back. His footing was off. Going for the kill, Red slashed for his torso again, only to have her opponent suddenly lunge and nearly skewer her. Thankfully, she was able to quickly parry the blade.

“Still can’t recognize a feint, can you,” Ramaga remarked condescendingly.

They exchanged a few more blows. Then Ramaga bashed her swordarm with the blunt blade.

“Ow,” Red exclaimed.

The blademaster stepped around her and smacked her again in the back.

“Ow indeed. I just severed your spine with that one. The duel is over. You are dead yet again pupil.”

Red rubbed at her arm and turned her ears down in shame.

“That’s not how you deal with pain. Are you going to stand there and mope about pain in a real fight? No! You deal with pain by fighting through it. You never let it incapacitate you. You turn it into rage and you use it.”

Young Red swiveled an ear back, “But you always tell me not to let rage get the best of me.”

Ramaga held up a clawed finger.

“There’s a difference between using rage and it using you. You figure out the difference and you just might triumph.”

Ramaga glanced toward the gate of the garden they’d been training in. A brown furred Daedalian stood there. Red thought he looked like a soldier, but he wore no uniform.

“I’ll be nice to you. Go ahead and call it a day. Remember what I taught you. I have business to take care of.”

Red saluted him, which was halfheartedly returned, as he moved to speak with the Daedalian at the gate. Red left the garden and made her way through the winding halls. She couldn’t wait to change out of her sweaty training robes. She stopped by the study first though. There her mother Tallana sat reading a book. Her ears twitched as she heard Red and looked up.

“Dearest? I thought you were still training with Ramaga.”

Red quietly entered the study. Her mother’s fur was red like hers. She looked much like Red except her eyes were a kindly blue.

“He let me go early,” Red informed her. “Mother, I don’t like training with him. He’s mean.”

“He let you go early, he can’t be too bad. Ramaga comes highly recommended. Fencing is a discipline. It can get intense and instructors can be harsh. My dear, it’s something we all learn and something we all go through.”

Red sighed one ear going back. “Why does father insist I learn the blade?”

Tallana set her book down, “You know it’s a crucial part of our culture and you know you might have to use those skills one day. Unlikely, I know, but it’s always best to prepare.”

Young Red rubbed her muzzle. “I know. Mother, can we do something fun later?”

Tallana smiled warmly, “Of course dearest.”  

   

**

“Pleased with yourself I see,” Penderre scolded. “You’re lucky she didn’t just shoot you on sight.”

Ramaga’s ears twitched, “It was worth the risk to see the look of shock, I’m sure I’ve unnerved her by showing myself so publicly. She should be heading for the port now.”

Colonel Penderre nodded and gestured to Varlas. “You’re up my boy.”

Varlas grinned and sauntered toward the door. A pair of sword length vibroblades at his sides. Penderre stopped him before he left. “Varlas.”

Varlas paused, “Yes, sir?”

“Remember, take her alive if possible. She’s valuable to us, but I understand if that’s not possible. Her head will do just as nicely.”

“I understand,” Varlas saluted and glanced to Ramaga. “We’ll see how your old pupil fairs and, if she’s wanting, I’ll have to see if the fault lies in her old mentor.”

Ramaga snarled, “I’d be more than happy to show you.”

Varlas felt the seething anger and he knew the Daedalian felt insulted. This gave him a bit of a thrill as he left for his mission.

**

The main streets had become horribly congested. Wheeled vehicles, levitating skimmers, and pedestrians thronged the streets. Half were trying to get to the port to either gawk or lend a hand. The rest were more wisely trying to get far away. The skies above were filled with aerial vehicles.

Red scoffed, flattening her ears. Typical, I need to get somewhere and this is what happens.

Fortunately, Red knew a less travelled roundabout way to get to the spaceport. She turned down a sidestreet that was barely a street. She hardly ever took the route, except in dire need. The service road wound its way between older buildings of Chohe. It really seemed more like an alley than a true street.

Red cocked an ear back as the radio she’d turned on for news of the port fire suddenly swapped back to music.

When our stars intertwine, with your hand held in mine

I knew it'd be our destiny~!

Stars! Stars! Loving you!

Ours! Ours! Forever too!

Red loudly voiced her frustration, “Ragh! I hate that song!”  

However, the song was the least of her troubles. Up ahead a large cargo hauler was blocking the street. Red’s fur bristled and her ears pricked forward. There was no way around the seemingly abandoned vehicle. The warning alarms were blaring in her head that this was a trap. Her thought was confirmed as a skimmer zoomed toward her buggy from behind, intent on ramming her.

Red flung herself from the buggy just as the vehicle impacted hers. Hitting the dusty street she stood and drew her Daedalian blade. She didn’t have time to free her rifle. A figure leapt from the crumpled skimmer. An Altheaten with two full size vibroblades in his hands. They were large curved weapons with serration on the back of the blade.

The Altheaten smirked, “I can sense your surprise. Not who you were expecting?”

Red parted her ears, “No, you’re not.”

The Altheaten twirled his sword, “I know. You were expecting a certain Daedalian. Well, he sends his regards. I’ve come to bring you to him, not necessarily in one piece.”

Red merely took a defensive stance, “Try me.”

Varlas grinned, “Good, I’d hoped you’d put up a fight. Test your blade against Varlas!”

With that Varlas rushed Red and swung at her head. She ducked the blade as the high pitched whine of the vibroblade passed over her. Red parried a slash aimed for her torso and stepped in, trying to drive her blade into her foe.

The duelist merely stepped back and brought one of his swords down for Red’s shoulder. Red raised her blade, blocking the blow, and then instantly spun away before she was gutted by Varlas’s second weapon.

Thunder rumbled overhead as the two fighters circled one another in a deadly dance. Their moves were lightning fast and precise, their weapons were gray blurs, but Red found herself constantly on the defensive. She knew she had to end the fight as she felt herself growing tired.

Red suddenly received a surprise kick to the ribs. Grunting and out of breath she staggered back against the wall of one of the buildings. Her guard dropped. Varlas lunged with one of his swords. Red suddenly moved to the side, allowing the vibroblade to impale itself in the wall.      

Before Varlas could extract the blade, Red chopped for his wrist. The Altheaten released his grip, avoiding the chop, and Red moved in with a low slash. Varlas inverted his sword and batted the attack away.

“You’re not disappointing me,” Varlas smirked as he went for a diagonal cut for Red’s torso.

Red bashed at the vibroblade and closed the distance. She scored a cut on Varlas’ side. The swordsman yelped in pain. Angrily, he lashed out and struck Red with the pommel of his sword atop her head.

Red staggered back as the enraged Altheaten rushed forward to deliver an executioner’s chop to her. Red howled a Daedalian war cry and lunged forward before Varlas could bring his sword down. Red drove her blade through the war criminal’s chest. Varlas coughed as Red shoved his body off her sword. He fell in a crumpled bloody heap next to his vibroblade.

Red took a breath to calm her adrenaline and surveyed her handiwork. After cleaning her sword, Red dragged Varlas’ corpse away and stashed the vibroblade with him. Returning to her buggy, she let out a sigh, her ears twitched in consternation. She’d be on foot from here on out as one of her axles had snapped. Red was confident her buggy would roll again, but not at the moment. She rubbed at her ribs. Varlas had kicked her hard and there was no doubt she had a bruise beneath her fur as well as a headache.

Red retrieved her rifle and her eyes settled on the trackers the biologist had left. She tried to contact Sheriff Parsons again, but to no avail. She was still on her own.

It’s just me. Not that I’m not used to that. Red thought before she struck out on foot with her ears pricked forward on alert. Thunder continued to rumble as yet another lightning storm brewed.

**

“No word from Varlas,” Mileena said.

Penderre scowled, “We can only assume the worst.” Penderre gave a sidelong glance to Ramaga. The Daedalian didn’t show any signs of smugness, but the Altheaten could feel it along with eagerness.

Penderre keyed his comm device, “Khuun, be advised. Varlas is M.I.A. and assumed to be dead. Be on your guard. She might be coming your way.”

“Acknowledged,” Khuun replied.

From his sniper’s nest on the roof of a recently closed store, Khuun smirked to himself. He’d never liked Varlas. He considered Varlas an oaf running around with mêlée weapons. A gun was the only proper tool for killing someone.

The sniper waited. His orders were to capture if at all possible, but he didn’t really see the point in that.

Link to the original story: https://www.deviantart.com/mercenaryblade/art/Red-s-Tales-Ramaga-s-Wrath-PT2-641077381