The Name

A mini story by S.E.Estes

Krek Begek always liked Trader's Hand and he was in his favorite merc bar, The Cooeen, he should have been at ease but he was restless. He was running low on money and hadn't found a contract he wanted yet. Krek could be like most mercs and take whatever paid well but he was picky. He'd been in the business long enough to have done just about everything so finding something of interest somewhere he'd like to go was getting hard. Something would turn up but he was not only worried about the money, he was itching for a fight.

One thing about merc bars, there's always a fight to be found. Krek heard arguing but arguments were part of the atmosphere and easily ignored. Finally Krek heard the scuffle that signalled the start of the fight and he looked over to watch, he had nothing else to do. The two protagonists were shouting and Krek gave a bored sigh, the old name argument. Most mercs are secretive people, often with pasts to hide, while others are flashy and eager for recognition. For both reasons mercs gave themselves names, to hide behind or to brag with. Death Strike, Hammer Blow and the like were all testaments to, if not their prowess, their egos. There are only so many variations of Death Strike before two mercs with the same name run into each other, usually one of them ends up dead. So it was in this fight, not a bad one as bar fights go, and Krek returned to being bored.

About three months later he was on Fairshis, first sword of a decent crew. As first sword he was given two rookies, it was his job to teach them how to stay alive. He hated rookies but it was part of the job. It wasn't a personal thing but most of them ended up dead and he always wondered why he bothered training them, why he ever got to know them. He was sick of it and something inside him rebelled.

"Over here, Rookie." he growled, he could see how the name rankled. When he first called one of the rookies that he protested, "The name's Fear Driver." he complained. Krek gave him a little smile that made the rookie quail, "Who gave you that name, Rookie?" He was too scared to be defensive, "I gave it to myself." "How did you get it?", the rookie didn't know what Krek was getting at but it was clear he was making a point. "I liked the way it sounded." the rookie answered. "Who fears you?" After that the rookies didn't protest whatever Krek chose to call them. He called them a lot of things from the mundane to the profane, everything but their names. He wasn't going to get to know these rookies, one would be die for sure, he was a fool, the other mmight survive but until she did she was just an untested weapon.

Krek had been right, the one rookie fell in battle out of stupidity and the other survived. Still, he didn't want to call her the name she'd given herself, she didn't deserve to wear it because she never earned it so he kept calling her rookie. She approached him about it one day, "When am I going to be more than a rookie to you? I've proven myself over and over. My name is Herda Mogen and I deserve to be called it." Krek just shrugged and said, "We'll see." Not long after, he did see.

The battle had been going against them all day, their line was in danger of being overrun. It was breaking apart to the east and Krek ran in to shore it up. The fight was turning in their favor there when a new wave of the enemy hit them and Krek went under. They knew he was the first sword and the assault was to take him out, Krek fought furiously but he was surrounded and it was just a matter of how many he could take down with him. He was fighting off two opponents when he saw a movement out of the corner of his eye, slicing in from his left was the blow that was going to end his life. There was no way he could avoid it so he prepared himself to die. Inches from his face the blade stopped and fell to the ground. He glanced over to see his rookie pulling her blade from the one that almost killed him. Later, when a blow took Krek out of the fight the swords began falling apart, there was no one to lead them, they were all to young, too inexperienced to do the job. On the verge of disaster he heard a shout, "Third wing shift left!' and saw the rookie run up to the line there. She was magnificent, a born leader who kept her team from destruction. Under her leadership the sword team held out until reinforcements arrived, when they retreated the losses were far less than expected.

She came into the med tent that night to visit Krek, after the amenities she asked, "How'd your rookie do, Krek?" He'd been thinking about it for hours, "You were great, Alai Ine." She looked it up in Krek's native tongue, Alai Ine, The Brilliant Sword.

He wasn't the only one in the med tent that night and word got around about what Krek had done. Soon other leaders were giving their rookies names, names they earned, names that really meant something. It was Krek Begek, The Nameless One, who began the custom and now it's the only way for a merc to get a name.