Chrysalis

"What I want to know, Captain, is when you and our new oppressors will settle the matter of reparations!" the old man sneered.

Wallace Dalton, former Captain of the Rylleh City Guard and now the appointed military adjutant to the Rylleh branch of the Colony, suppressed the urge to spit and continued to grind his chew between his teeth, hoping the repetitive motion of his jaws would help burn off his irritation.

"Citizen Alliornus…" he began.

The old man's eyes blazed with fury.

"THAT'S LORD ALLIORNUS TO YOU, BOY!" he bellowed, spittle flying.

Wallace took a quick step back to dodge the expectorant and giggled internally at the impotent rage of this relic.

"Citizen Alliornus," he repeated with an added emphasis that he relished, "you are certainly aware that within this city, there is no such thing as a lord or lady, are you not?"

His needling produced the desired result as the once wealthy council member swelled up like a toad, jowls swinging as his temper took full hold.

"My family worked to found this city!" he declared with all the pomposity he could muster, "securing the future of their descendants and creating enduring prosperity for all the traitorous residents of this once great place. My authority, my belongings and my wealth have been illegally seized by these interloping insects and I DEMAND that they pay it back!"

Would their self-interest ever cease? Wallace sighed and fixed the idiot in front of him with a steely

"as grateful as the residents of this place are for what your ancestors did, they aren't so grateful that they are prepared to happily suffer under your incompetent and corrupt governance. If I were to hazard a guess, if the Lion Fist of city legend were to come back and see what his house had fallen to, he'd spit in

and tried to speak up but

to learn if any authority figure within the ant power structure knew your name or had heard of a single complaint you've lodged, which I have filed with them. There is absolutely no chance that they are going to return whatever it

if he were going to pop. Wallace watched the colour change with

THEFT!" he hollered. "PIRACY and THEFT!

any justice when the weak are picked on by the strong. How many times did I send guards to evict those who were unable to pay the high rates you demanded for your loans? Loans that only the truly desperate with nowhere else to turn would dare accept? I can remember many scenes of widows weeping in the street, begging for justice that they would never receive. The Colony has come, and in their eyes you are a pathetic, weak individual with no

only

"… as I thought."

a wad of coloured spit on the ground next to

hear you wailing and I just don't care. So why don't you shut up, crawl back to what's left of your mansion and diddle one of the

careful measure of Charitus' face, Wallace judged he'd pushed the man close to a major aneurism, but hadn't quite managed to tip

cannot survive when those insects run roughshod over traditions and disregard our laws.

this city who would be willing to go back to your

striding out and collecting the few lackeys he'd left outside on the way. Turning around, Wallace found his spit bucket and cleaned out the foul taste in his mouth with a rinse of water,

with them?" came the voice