Read Online Syndicate's Pawns by Davila LeBlanc - Free Book Online Page B

mined.
    Ideally there would be very little need for any violence to pull off this particular heist. Domiant did not mind inflicting pain on those who deserved it, but still preferred to avoid using force when his superior mind could solve the problem.
    This morning, Domiant was lounging on his bed, lazily poring over printed copies of various ship blueprints. Unfortunately for them, their mother had not specified what sort of vessel the Jinxed Thirteenth was. Yes it was a patrol craft, but what Domiant would have preferred to know was just what model they were dealing with. Was it a capital warship with a full crew of several thousand or was it a frigate with a potential standing crew of ten? This lack of crucial details had forced Domiant to go to his personal library (books and scrolls that he had loaded up back on Uldur hoping the information they contained would be useful to him) and spend the three days of travel time committing the designs of over two dozen ship blueprints to memory.
    â€œThank the Infinite for Crimson ginseng,” he said to himself as he took a sip.
    â€œThe Living Green has a solution to every problem, little brother,” Sopherim called out to him.
    â€œI do not need an education on herbology from you, sister.” In his early days, Domiant had been fortunate to display a passion for words and knowledge. Information was the true munition of any war, not bullets or blades or starships. With the right information, one could accomplish anything and defeat even the greatest of foes. Domiant had also displayed a knack for growing his own plants. It was no coincidence that back on Uldur, Ynarra Kuaro had pulled all the strings she could to get Domiant to apprentice under an Elvrid Breedmaster. Her hope more than likely being that then her brilliant son would be able to grow stronger narcotic-­producing plants for Seft Kuaro.
    â€œFor all your wits, Domo, you still need someone else to dirty their hands in your stead.” Sopherim did not seem to take exception to Domiant’s snarky tone. Rather she returned to polishing her ornate breastplate with an oiled rag. “The day you can take care of your immediate threats directly will be the day you truly become Seft leader material.”
    Domiant snorted at this, never looking up from the blueprints spilled in front of him. “Mother never got her hands dirty, not once.”
    Sopherim gave Domiant a sharp-­toothed grin. It almost sent a shiver up his spine to see his elsewise typically stoic sister do this. “You were not alive when mother lived on Troy.”
    â€œYou were just a runt in those days, sis.”
    â€œRunt or no, I remember what I witnessed.” Sopherim gave her prehensile toes a crack as she got to her feet. She took in a deep breath and let herself drop forward, stopping her fall on both her toe and fingertips, as she was mere inches from hitting the floor.
    Domiant resisted the urge to smile when he saw this. Both he and his sister were incredible specimens, proof that the living cosmos could naturally produce living weapons without the need for artificial augmentations. They were both terribly proud of the fact that their gifts were the result of exceptional natural abilities and training. “It must have been enough to convince you to never challenge her.”
    Sopherim held her position for a moment before springing herself back up in one jump. “Indeed it was, Domo.”
    â€œDon’t call me that.”
    â€œStop behaving like a pampered little man-­pup and I won’t.” Sopherim gave Domiant a long cold stare, not so much as blinking before walking over to a nearby table where a plain brown clay cup of water sat. She downed it in one gulp before letting out a satisfied “ah.”
    â€œI appreciate and thank you for the criticism, sister.” Domiant considered his next words before speaking. In all of the Infinite there was only one person he trusted or felt a