They usually only targeted outsiders.
And who fit that description? They did, of course.
Pallas raised his voice to speak to those using the landscape as cover. "You might as well come out. We know you're there."
The wind blew, stirring the snow and making the branches of the nearby trees creak.
"Choosing to ignore my advice?" There was a brutal twist to Pallas's lips. "Very well. You can't say you weren't warned."
By tacit agreement, Graydon and Kira put their backs to each other as they watched their surroundings.
The night stilled as they waited to see what their followers would do.
Pallas's shadow stretched, darkness pooling under him.
"Do not kill them," Kira warned.
She'd already caused enough death on this planet. She'd prefer not to add more blood to her hands.
"It amazes me how someone who experienced the same upbringing as me still manages to be so soft." Pallas looked toward the spot where Kira's senses warned her someone was hiding. "Our masters would be most disappointed in the way you turned out."
Kira glanced from the barely discernible bulge in the snow to Pallas. "I decide what I am. Not them. I refuse to be what they made me."
"I guess that's why you're you and we're the forty three."
Pallas's smile was slightly sad as the shadow under his feet swallowed him.
He vanished, reappearing an instant later right next to that bulge in the snow, sword in hand, his gaze trained on Kira. "Unlike you, we embraced what we were forced to become."
He stabbed downward.
"Pallas!" Kira screamed.
Snow exploded upward as the person underneath scrambled out of range. Pallas's insane laughter filled the air.
Kira caught a glimpse of all white cold weather gear. A pair of goggles that covered half the person's face. An antique-looking rifle in their hands.
They rolled onto their back, the rifle held up like a shield to block Pallas's next attack. A second person appeared like a ghost on Pallas's other side, their rifle pointed at his head.
Everyone froze.
"Cool trick, but I really wouldn't," a woman warned.
Despite Pallas's ability to kill both the person on the ground and the woman, he made no attempt to do so. He held still as four more people emerged out of the snowy landscape.
Pallas watched the woman and her companions out of the corner of his eye. "I guess the mice aren't entirely without their fangs and claws."
The woman nudged the side of Pallas's face with the barrel of her rifle. "Yeah. And we have no compunction about using them either. So back off."
Pallas allowed the sword tip to dip, no longer pointing it at the human at his feet but rather the snow. "Sure thing."
As if to punctuate his intention to surrender, Pallas took a step back, raising his other hand to make him seem more harmless.
The woman didn't fall for it, keeping her rifle trained on Pallas as her companions helped the other man to his feet. "You're trespassing."
Pallas scratched an eyebrow with his middle finger. "Is that so? We had no idea."
"How's that possible?" someone muttered. "Everyone around here knows to warn visitors away from this area."
"Blame her for that." Pallas tilted his head at Kira. "She refused to let me stop in any of the nearby settlements."
Kira wasn't even surprised at how he tried to shift the blame to her. He always was a liar.
Graydon chuckled lightly as he straightened, his stance relaxing a bit as his earlier caution fell away.
Kira would call his confidence arrogant, but having seen his reflexes, she knew he didn't have much to fear from these humans. Despite the weapons—both the ones they could see and the ones they couldn't—trained on them.
Like the rest of her companions, the woman wore a pair of goggles that served to hide the upper half of her face. Their lenses had a greenish cast to them that Kira was guessing meant there was night vision built into them. Maybe a few other bells and whistles as well.
The stranger's coat was lined with fur around the cuffs and hood and looked thick, capable of keeping her warm even in this freezing temperature. Her hood had fallen back, leaving her pigtails visible.
She was also armed to the teeth. A rifle in her hand. The hilt of a bladed weapon sticking up over her shoulder. Not to mention the belt around her waist that held an assortment of tools that Kira didn't recognize.
All of a home design, Kira was betting.
Blue would have loved that. If the two didn't kill each other, they'd have something to talk about for hours.