Alliance Read Free

working with,” Jornan snaps. She points sharply at
the Portal. “Go faster, faster, faster, or do you think you can
just take it nice and easy, as if we don't have a deadline
to meet? If we don't get all of this super speed delivered on time,
none of us get paid a cent. Do you hear me? Not one
cent.”
    None of Jornan's dwarves respond, but I
suspect it's less to do with not having anything to say and more
having to do with their fear of her. Mobile Database records
indicate, based on the confessions of her arrested ex-partners,
that she does not take well to minions who talk back to or disagree
with her.
    But then one of the dwarves unexpectedly
puts down the crate he was lifting and turns to face Jornan. His
partner, who lifts the backside of the crate, stares at him in
shock and says, with a thick dwarfish accent that even my universal
translator has a hard time deciphering, “Rok, what are you doing?
Do you expect me to lift this damn crate myself?”
    “ No,” says the dwarf
named Rok, shaking his head. He looks at Jornan and folds his arms
over his chest. “I'm just sick of Jornan bossing us around like
this. You're treating us like pebbles, even though we're working
our hardest.”
    “ Do you think I care?”
says Jornan in exasperation. “Or do you not realize that we have a
strict deadline to meet?”
    “ I just think I'm tired
of working for you,” says Rok. He begins listing his grievances off
his fingers. “First, you're demanding and unappreciative of our
hard work. Second, you never pay us well enough to put up with your
crap. And third—”
    Jornan raises her right hand before Rok
can finish complaining and the ring on her middle finger glows red.
While I am not a Delanian witch or wizard myself, I have done
enough research to know that a glowing skyras ring means that it is
in use.
    As soon as the ring finishes glowing, Rok
stops speaking. He stares blankly at nothing for a few seconds, as
if something has caught his attention. I look to see what he's
staring at, but I see nothing but the floor.
    Then Rok begins to hyperventilate and back
up. He is so terrified by whatever he sees that he trips over his
own feet and falls on his behind, but he keeps crawling away even
then. I still see nothing coming after him; his fellow dwarves are
simply staring at him in confusion, while Jornan watches with an
amused expression on her face.
    Then Rok begins screaming, “Get away from
me, you beast! Get away, or I'll—”
    He doesn't finish his sentence because he
then curls into a ball and begins sobbing and kicking at whatever
he thinks he sees. He grabs at his long beard and pulls at it,
screaming something almost incomprehensible about how the thing
wants his beard. One of his fellow dwarves looks away in disgust,
but the others continue to watch and stare as if this was the most
horrifying thing they have seen in their lives.
    I feel no horror at this sight, but I
notice Sir Alart's heart rate increase and his sweat going down his
temple. I know enough about Sir Alart to know that he dislikes
criminals, but apparently he has enough empathy left in him to feel
disgusted by this display of horror.
    The spectacle is over as quickly as it
began. Rok now lays on the floor, panting like he has run ten miles
in a minute, while his fellow dwarves stand around and look at each
other uneasily, none of them making eye contact with their fallen
friend.
    Jornan, on the other hand, appears to be
the only organic being in the warehouse to be entirely unaffected
by Rok's morbid display of fear. Mobile Database records indicate
that Jornan has a severe lack of empathy, indicating possible
sociopathy, though Xeeonite criminal psychologists disagree.
    “ What are you idiots
staring at?” Jornan snaps at her other minions, who start when they
hear her voice. “Get back to work. Rok will be all right in a few
minutes. He just needs to take some time to remember why I'm the boss and he isn't.”
    Her other minions do not