Still working but not a lot.
Re-write of the start.
It was always considered a co-incidence that all Admirals met the Dwarvian Naval maximum height limit of four foot two inches and black eyes … blue eyes were never seen … Blues or Old Stock – as they were called, were a throwback to an old life form that ruled before the five families took over and slaughtered everyone who did not match their ideals or doctrines – they call them ‘Old Stock’ and killed them out of hand wherever and whenever they found them.
Another race they also distrusted but used for their bureaucracy were the Elves and they kept them as virtual prisoners although this never seemed to bother the Elves who just became even more bureaucratic and infuriating.
Old Stock could also heal and that annoyed the ruling families. If they cured people, what was the point in the Dwarfs killing or hurting them; the ruling family’s squads never stopped looking for someone who looked different.
James Droga, in his Hell-Cat looked at the two screens in front of him, and especially at four foot two inched Martan Matira and then deliberately yawned at Martan while he ruffled his red hair.
That their hair, size and eyes were the same meant nothing, and no hint was ever made of surgery although the rumours were always there concerning the ruling families, especially the red hair which all seemed to have and that they always made the naval height requirement. For some reason they all to seemed to wear and probably sleep in the blue and black naval uniform
James Droga considered Martan Matira to be soft but then he detested David Jamesson as well. Neither had the guts to just kill and get on with life.
To James, they might meet Navy rules for red hair, black eyes and height restrictions of four foot two inches but they lack the blood on their swords and banners that to a Droga meant pride – pride in the people you killed; the planets you crushed and the prisoners you took.
Their families might be bound by ancient bonds or so they claimed but James had a few debts to pay and they wouldn’t appear in his black book.
The Admirals ignored comments on why they travelled to a very secure site to then appear as images in the council Chamber after their bodies had been inserted into tubes and protected by Guards …?
Somehow it had never stacked up that if they were so loved and respected why were their bodies stack up in the secured facility.
Now over the site their Hell-Cats circling on auto identified a small landing area some two hundred foot below the cliff peak. The Hell-Cats were named after a famous Admiral, nicknamed the Hell-Cat for his bedroom adventures.
The planes were said to be as honourable as he was which meant that were very fickle in their manoeuvrability and difficult to control at the best of times, however they hovered well and could land when handled by good pilots.
A road ran from just above the bottom of the cliff drop and it sprinted into the distance, jutting out for about thirty feet from the cliff edge as it ran, which given the Dwarfs dropping down was probably a good idea; if a road could actually run, this road would have run as they approached it!
The hell-cats found room to land without killing any of the waiting Guards although that didn’t bother the Dwarf Admirals who seemed to like killing as others like living.
They landed separately into a grey misty morning. The sun was bright and struggling to break through the dirt, stone and water the hell-cats were throwing up and the Guards, who’d stood guard for hours were not enjoying this as the Admirals began to land.
Martan Matira, snorting in his thick accent, was big for a Dwarf although he now needed two Guards to help him move about and his weight made movement slow.
Martan was swiftly followed by David Jamesson whose tones and voice were at least moderated although compared to James Droga who was bellowing like a stuck pig and to a degree looking like one; anyone was!
It took another half hour before James Droga finally decided to land – the Droga’s being the most minor of the ruling Parties and therefore stood on their pride and everyone else’s, if given a chance. The Admirals finally arrived outside the entrance to the cave – due ceremony went by the elbow; usually into the other Dwarfs. Passing Guards jumped in to separate the Admirals fighting each other.
Guards, mixing loyalty to their families with fear of the Admirals uppermost in their minds, bore their weapons high but there was no sense in what the Admirals were doing – hundreds of thousands killed for planets they never wanted or wars that had no meaning; knowing full well the Admirals had no loyalty to them or anyone else but themselves and several Guards were looking incredulous as the ships tried to land on them. The Droga’s, Matira’s and Jamesson families loomed even more however, and now they were killing Dwarfs who did not agree – it was wrong! Admirals relied on Guard’s loyalty or the Guards were killed and the Guard’s families knew loyalty was on the cutting edge and the Admirals held the cutting edge.