'Your Father…' the assailant began.
'Yes, my Father was a traitor, the filth, but I fulfill and honor my family name.'
Xain Raeson, known as Reaper when in the cockpit of his fighter, was the son of a traitorous human and child to a high ranking Elismorus, alien mother. Considered by the pirates to be a fighter ace, he was almost unmatched.
For centuries the pirates had been a nomadic force roaming the stars, the largest portion of which comprised Elismorus, an almost human looking race with slight differences in facial features, with pale skin and dark eyes. The minority was human, recruited from every section of populated space.
Raeson was born a pirate and raised by both parents. On the day of his first steps, Xain's father abandoned the fleet during an escort mission resulting in the death of one hundred and fifty civilians. Xain remembered standing on the docks as a child and watching as the returning pilots basked in victory upon their successful mission of hunting down and killing the traitor. That day, Raeson vowed to be better than his father, to prove himself and restore honor to his family name.
No one will ever be above him.
Yet here he stood at the mercy of an unknown assassin, a coward holding a weapon to the back of his head.
'Few could have pulled this off,' said Raeson, 'I'll give you credit for that.'
'Shut up and do as I ask,' the other man threatened. 'You know nothing of me or who sent me.'
'You're here to kill me obviously, but who sent you, someone I owe money to? Oh let me guess, Barnes down in the dregs section wants some payback for his loss the other night,' Raeson laughed.
'Your corpse won't be able to joke,' the other man growled.
'So I'm guessing you are a relation to someone who died under my father's protection?' Raeson replied seriously. He stared out into the dark and knew what lay ahead.
With a prideful reply the assailant said, 'a prominent leader of pirates sent me here.'
'Not the Khan?' exclaimed Raeson.
The assailant laughed, 'Do you really think you are that important? Your delusions of grandeur are pathetic, traitor.'
'That word again… Traitor… You will pay for those words,' warned Raeson.
The assailant shoved him forward, harder this time, as if he were growing impatient. 'I won't ask again.'
Xain laughed and said, 'If you had planned this out thoroughly you wouldn't need me to open the airlock door, would you?'
'I've spent a long time planning this I just wasn't able to gain the access I needed for such an action,' the assailant replied.
Xain's mind raced to find a solution and fast. He could hear his inner thoughts echo around his head.
How do I overcome this? There aren't many components to his plan. He must want to keep my death quiet or he would have just shot me already. Then again, he could have just done so and dragged my corpse to the airlock, unless he hasn't the upper body strength. That could just be his backup plan.
'There is always a way through,' Raeson said, as he kept his eyes forward. 'My Father's most common saying.'
'Don't you dare quote your father!' the assailant screamed.
That was the opening Raeson needed. The change in the assailant's behavior caused the man to lose concentration, just long enough for Raeson to make his move. With speed Xain ducked, spun, side stepped and knocked the pistol from the assailant's hands. Without hesitation, the pirate ace followed through with an open-handed strike to his captor's jugular. The assailant was on his knees, incapacitated and with the pistol well out of reach, his hands clasped around the point of injury.
Raeson brushed the assailant's hands aside and grabbed the man's throat. 'Who are you and who sent you?'
The assailant wouldn't speak; not because of the pain, but because he chose not to divulge information.
'Don't make me ask you again.'
The injured man, his face covered in a nano-fiber mask, connected to a thick cloak, looked up and said, 'My name is Cortane, and I have failed.'
'Yes. Yes you have,' Raeson replied in a low threatening tone.
Xain squeezed his grip tighter, and the assailant knew what was coming.
'I thought you would hand me over to the authorities,' the man gurgled in fear. With his calmness now overtaken by terror, his true vulnerability surfaced.
'What authorities?' Spat Xain before he strengthened his grip again. 'Do you now see who I truly am?'
Raeson dragged the man over to where the weapon had landed, then swooped down and collected it. He waved the pistol hand over a dimly lit crystal on the wall and the airlock opened. He threw the assailant forward with all his aggression, then locked the door with another wave. The man sprawled across the floor, still in pain from the earlier strike. He frantically leaped up and pounded the door with his fists in terror, yelling and screaming something that Xain couldn't hear.
Raeson walked up close to the glass and peered into the dark eye sockets of the assailant's mask.
'You do not know what kind of monster I am,' Xain said.
The airlock's outer door opened like an iris and the semi-conscious assailant launched out into the nothingness of space, his screams unheard.
It may have been a good idea to integrate him properly, Raeson thought. I enjoyed that.
This was not the first time Raeson had killed, even in cold blood. In the depths of the void it was easy to lose your morals, especially in a universe torn apart by conflict. He was a cold-blooded killer. He'd experienced so many battles in his lifetime, most of which from the cockpit of his own fighter craft, his Widowmaker. Piloting this ship was where he felt the most alive.
Killing in person was different, however. Space combat was machine fighting against machine, but in person you have to look your enemy in the eye. If people got in his way, he disposed of them quickly and quietly, as if the person never existed. There was a price to pay, however, as ending someone's life created an empty place in his heart. Although proud of his achievements, even his mother had no desire to associate with him. What drove Xain was the urgency of honor, to restore his family name and prove himself the greatest ace of the Cygnian Pirates; the greatest they had ever known.
He holstered his new pistol and walked back down the corridor; he had a briefing to attend. The pirates had been at war for some time now, and the enemy had presented an opening to strike.
CHAPTER 02.
An Introduction of One.
Xain Raeson stood amongst the four other flight commanders around a circular table in the middle of the briefing room. A holographic display rotated above the table, showing the positions of enemy ships spread throughout a small asteroid field; a blue planet hovered in the background. Small red blips and triangles ducked and weaved around the asteroids as the enemy lay in wait for a small pirate convoy that was approaching their position.
'This is the situation,' said the Talon Commander of the cruiser assigned to the mission. Although the man gave his name, Raeson didn't bother to take notice.
The cruiser commander stood in full uniform, the standard colors of black and gray, on the other side of the table. His attire displayed the pirate's insignia on his left chest and arm, an Elismorus skull struck diagonally through by a sword. His ears pointed downward and to the floor, and he had a slender form, clearly a mixture of human and Elismorus.
'We have leaked information to the enemy,' he said as he clasped his hands behind his back. 'We have a convoy flying to the planet to collect resources for the main fleet. The vessels contain only a skeleton crew of courageous pilots with orders to detonate their cargo if the Rids get too close.'
Heridians, or Rids as they were more commonly called, had been at war with the pirates for a century. The pirates tasked themselves to eradicate the mechanical menace after the annihilation of the Cygnian home-world so long ago. Humans and only some Elismorus, the families of the pirate group populated the planet.
Hearing of the attack, the pirate forces entered the battle alongside the human defen
se fleet in orbit above the world, but it wasn't enough to win against the menace. Before vacating the area, the Heridian fleet fell upon the planet below and left nothing alive. It was this tragedy that formed the bond between the remaining forces and created the Cygnian Pirates of today. They became a nomadic fleet that roamed the stars, more of a military now than renegades, and comprised a mixture of human and Elismorus ships.
'What is the range of one of these explosions, Talon Commander?' One of the flight commanders asked as he broke his formal stance and leaned over the table.
'Approximately five hundred kilometers,' the Commander replied. 'You will have enough time for your forces to evade.'
'Aye, Sir, in that case maybe we should have Raeson's wing at the rear, they would need the extra distance,' grinned another Commander. He laughed at his own joke as others follow his example.
Raeson did not bite back at the Flight Commander. He was used to the snide remarks from other pilots, because of the traitorous history of his father. With a stern look, the Talon Commander cut the Flight Commander off from making another remark and continued his briefing.
'Your forces will position polar south east of the convoy, just above the orbit of the planet to avoid detection. You are to close in ahead of the convoy and attack before the enemy is ready to strike. This will mean fighting close in amongst the asteroids where the Rids are hiding.'
'It will be fun watching your pilots bounce around them, Raeson,' remarked another of the Flight Commanders, laughing and expecting a heated response.
Again with the snide remarks, Raeson thought to himself, still not showing any sign of retaliation, his face cold and expressionless.
If there had been no leadership in the room, he would have dealt with the insults in a darker and more satisfying way. The dead assassin floating in space would have some company.
'We will make sure the convoy is safe, Sir,' a Flight Commander said as he gave his superior a nod of his head. 'Safer than the one Raeson's Father abandoned, anyway.'
Raeson spun in anger only to have his arm grabbed by Zekhal, one of other Flight Commanders that had stood silently through the briefing. He stepped in between the men and looked into Raeson's now fuming eyes.
'Xain, a fight here will not help you achieve your goal, my friend,' said Zekhal.
He was a level-headed flight commander and one of Raeson's closest friends. He had started within the pirates alongside Raeson and served in the same wing for most of their training before they were both promoted to Flight Leaders.
'You are right, as usual, my friend,' Xain replied, trying to calm himself.
Zekhal released Raeson's arm and gave his friend a smile. With the briefing over, both men headed to the dock area where their ships were ready for combat.
More insects to kill, Raeson thought to himself. Anyone who stands against me will suffer the same fate as the Rids.
*
It wasn't long before Raeson and his subordinates were secure in their individual Widowmaker fighters and waiting for the command to launch. Their craft, black metal with forward swept wings, a sleek fuselage with ridged edges running from nose to tail. Positioned in a nosed down state and ready to release into the void, the canopies locked as the micro reactors pulsed energy into the ship's primary buffer. Raeson gave his orders over the coms to the rest of his wing and a quick rundown on the mission ahead. His pilots were used to a fly by briefing on the required task, learning the parts they needed to play.
A digital voice echoed through the docking area. 'Bays pressurized, standby for launch.'
The fields that encased each fighter shimmered, the air within adjusted and segregated from the rest of the Vidar.
'Here we go, Reaper Wing, let's bury some Rids,' Raeson announced with enthusiasm. This was where he felt centered and strangely at peace with his inner voices. He re-gripped the flight stick in each hand and caressed the triggers. He could feel his heart beating in his head and it seemed to echo through his helmet.
The exhilaration of launch made his adrenaline spike.
'Releasing clamps, antigravity engaged. Outer doors open, launch, launch, launch,' ordered the digital voice.
Engines burned, each launch chamber flared into a ball of fire as the fighters thrust off towards the outer doors. Open space appeared quickly, and the fighters were free of their mother-ship's constraints.
Raeson pushed down on his right foot pedal and pulled back on the flight stick, causing his fighter to roll and invert. Making use of Newtonian physics, he drifted slowly in a reverse direction and stared back at the fleet. A massive quantity of dark vessels moved together, a giant herd flying a close formation that comprised various sizes. Smaller escort craft filled the gaps between the cruisers and also the city size ship, the Wing of Vidar, home to thousands of people.
Xain marveled at its sheer size and ran his gaze from the monstrous bow to the sharp wings of the stern. The binary stars behind the fleet covered the vessels in a hue of luminous blue, ghostly apparitions sailing through the night.
'Beautiful,' Raeson said to himself, as he took a moment to marvel the spectacle. 'Reaper Wing, form up on me,' he commanded over the coms.
After a moment, the other craft under his command positioned behind in a staggered formation. It was a tactic commonly used to throw off the enemies' perception of range when looking from the front.
'We are to head to co-ordinates Victor, Kilo, Alpha, and will form up with the escort corvette, the Suns End. Our orders are to keep in the ship's immediate proximity as it makes a small translocation to the mission's co-ordinates. The other fighters you see to our starboard will join up with their own designated corvette.'
'Confirmed,' replied the pilots in his squad.
Translocation was a method a star faring vessel used to traverse the void at great distances. Inside the antimatter reactor, often referred to as the Blackjack core, lasers destroyed a single proton within a rare element to release an enormous amount of energy. The quantity released then charged the drive buffer anywhere from ten to twenty-one percent each time the lasers fired, making it highly dangerous when nearing full capacity. It was at this point the safety protocols activated and the remaining amount to fill the buffer transferred from the vessel's energy banks. These banks powered the ship's systems, weapons and primary energy grid which recharged through the use of solar sails when orbiting a star.
The ship's commander had the authority to override the protocols in times of need, but risked overloading the drive and causing a complete malfunction and explosion. The longer the ship took to fill the buffer, the longer it took to translocate, so risking a last hit of antimatter was only worth doing if faced by imminent destruction.
Once the drive buffer reached full capacity, the energy was then used to create a field around the host vessel that, when activated, would change its outer shell to an infinite mass whilst keeping its inner shell at a normal constant and the vessel safe within. When the mass reached a certain point, the vessel would sink below and break through the fabric of space-time and enter what lay underneath; the spherical universe of non-existence.
By altering the mass of the field at certain points, the ship could then shortcut through this sphere and re-enter at a different point. If smaller craft were in proximity to a vessel that was translocating, the field would expand and incorporate the additional mass. This made fleet travel much easier to co-ordinate, especially with fighter squadrons like the Reapers.
Raeson's wing comprised four other Widowmaker class fighters, all configured with similar armaments. Each pilot selected a personal weapon's load out and maneuvering setup, which required approval from the flight leader. The other pilots were very skilled, if not a little strange, compared to most. They were the pilots other flight leaders didn't want, the rejects and insubordinate challenges. Raeson sometimes wondered if that was the reason he commanded a wing. Many amongst the pirate leadership didn't like him.
The first pilot, Slin Naomoka, Raeson regar
ded as an ace, almost to the same skill level as himself. He was Elismorus with thin brown eyes and the customary pale skin. The man kept to himself and even though showed leadership potential did not want the responsibility.
Tektar Shahath, or Tek, the second pilot, injured during a battle years prior, displayed very unstable traits. The older man had a tendency to drift in his craft, mentally absent, and sometimes passed out. Rumors suggested he lost his nerve. Raeson was reluctant in accepting Tek's transfer but needed the numbers in his wing.
The third pilot was an Elismorus female, Nashek Trian, or Nash to her fellow squad members. She was the daughter of a merchant and entered the pirate ranks under duress before proving herself capable.
Raeson couldn't get the clearance for information on the fourth squad member. The pilot's name was Napier Stark, a shady character that had yet to earn the Flight Leader's trust. Although an incredibly competent fighter pilot, he was a loner who often ignored Raeson's commands.
They were a very mixed group of individuals to form a fighter wing, although it complimented Raeson's personality perfectly as he rarely surrounded himself with boring bipeds.
'Free for all!' Tektar yelled over the coms.
'Hold formation, pilot,' Raeson replied angrily. He felt this journey was long enough without the crazy antics of some out-of-date pilot adding stress and extra time onto the mission.
'Sorry, Raeson, Sir, I missed that,' Tektar said with humor in his tone.
'Keep on wing or you will end up being target practice, old boy,' Slin warned calmly over the coms system.
Tek throttled forward ahead of the formation, erratically rolling and flipping his fighter.
'I think he disabled his coms, Sir,' Nash announced angrily. 'I'm going to follow and make sure he does nothing even more stupid'.
'Confirmed, Nash,' Raeson replied and then with venom in his voice said, 'Keep him out of trouble but don't put yourself in any danger. If you stray too far from us, let him go. I don't care for the antics of some drunken fool has-been and if he wants to fly away and die somewhere, then let him. Slin and Napier, re-form up on me, two-thirds throttle and watch out for bandits.'
A Dark Oceans Descent: (Heridian Saga, Book 1) Page 2
