Starfighter
Page 1
Starfighter
Freedom Star - Book One
Killian Carter
Brandon Ellis
Copyright © 2019
Killian Carter - Brandon Ellis
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Names used in this novel do not represent the personalities, traits, or mental and physical characteristics to real persons, living or dead, with the same name.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without the prior written permission of the publisher and copyright owner.
All rights reserved. Version 1.03.
Edited by Killian Carter
Cover Art by Christian Kallias
https://www.kccarter.com
https://www.brandonelliswrites.com
Contents
1. Return to Roth
2. Delta’s Fleet Games
3. Hunting Hunters
4. Victory March
5. Fight or Flight
6. The Brig
7. The Slave Lord
8. The Hardest Game
9. A Better Offer
10. Officer Hilden
11. Fox Hole
12. Jump Gate Delta
13. Guess Work
14. Unexpected Guests
15. Old Words
16. Night Skimming
17. Masters and Frogs
18. Thrones and Roses
19. Starfighter
Contact Us
1
Return to Roth
By the smell alone, Fox knew he’d come to the right place. What he didn’t know, however, was whether he’d make it out alive.
Not that it mattered.
Being one of the few remaining Vosans in the Galaxy, some considered him a fool for wandering such dangerous worlds. To his species, another dead Vosan meant another step closer to extinction. Others told him he was crazy, that no one could stop the Drahk in their relentless conquering of worlds and slaving of peoples. Even those species powerful enough to stand against the Drahk preferred to cower in the shadows, afraid to upset the hornet’s nest. Fox’s people weren’t afraid, but the Drahk all but wiped them from existence anyway. A warning for the other species to fall in line.
He pushed on regardless, taking the most daring assignments ASTRA could throw at him, calculating the risks and ignoring the mockery, for he had made a promise, and a Vosan who broke his promise was a Vosan no longer. At least that’s what his father used to say, but for Fox, the promise of illium and a pile of Drahk bodies sweetened the deal.
His nose twitched in objection to the swamp’s vile stench as he waded through the murky water, the thick layer of brown-green dross clinging to his flight-suit’s armor plating.
Fox sniffed, the atmosphere heavy with sulfur and rot, but underneath the acrid odor, he detected the faintest hint of something familiar, a smell all Vosan’s knew well: Drahk musk. He detected at least a dozen about a kilometer away.
A less insulting scent mingled with their putrid stink, so soft he’d almost missed it. A human girl. Not the one he was looking for but a slave nonetheless.
He lifted his nose into the air and took several long breaths.
Either she had escaped from the city, or the Drahk had released her into the jungle like some wild animal to be hunted for sport. From the smells of it, they had her again.
Fox spat, cursing his bad luck. Walking into a full Drahk hunting party was the last thing he needed.
His ears twitched as an insect fluttered by, zig-zagging toward the tree-line.
He didn’t recognize the creature, but on planets like Roth, he considered all wildlife a threat.
He emerged from the stagnant pool, his boots squelching on the muddy bank. He shook his body and flicked his tail, flinging clumps of soggy moss onto the surrounding trees. He summoned the map on his chronograph. It showed a patchy jungle with a city to the east. He zoomed in on the city, but it remained a pixelated blur. ASTRA’s data on Roth was incomplete at best. Not that he could blame them. The planet was deep inside the Drahkonis system.
Retrieving his target from the city with little-to-no intel wasn’t exactly going to be easy. Hell, the settlement didn’t even have a name. The map simply referred to it as R1.
He caught another faint whiff of the nearby human slave, and an idea sprung to mind.
If she had escaped from the city, she would know how to get in…Maybe she’ll even have directions to where they keep the slaves.
It was a risk with a Drahk hunting party around, but it was better than running blind into a strange city.
Looking over his shoulder, he offered Hopper a final glance before tapping a button on his belt, activating her stealth drive.
Black lightening coiled around the vessel like electric-eels, and white streaks hissed as they spiraled in opposite directions. A tame draught swooped out from the islet and Hopper shifted out of view.
Fox sniffed the air again, picking up the human’s scent on the lethargic swamp currents. Scanning the trees, he fingered the scar under his collar. The old wound itched as if to remind him that he’d received it on a planet just like Roth.
He recalled the searing agony as the Drahk’s twisted claws gouged out his throat, shredding his vocal cords. He hadn’t spoken a word since.
Shaking his head, he returned his attention to the present. Foolhardiness had gotten him into trouble back then, but life had taught him several harsh lessons in the interim. His hand rested idly on the blaster holstered on his hip. This time, he wouldn’t make the same mistake. The blaster clicked as he pulled it free and checked the safety.
He pushed towards a copse of gnarled trees, sniffing, looking for signs of passage. Three claw marks scored the bough of an exotic tree, but they were old, the bark having blistered up around the scars in an attempt to heal.
Feeling the three shallow lines, Fox realized he was grinding his teeth. He opened his mouth and rubbed the tension out of his jaw.
He took several cautious steps deeper into the jungle and found two sets of Drahk boot-prints with a much smaller pair between them.
Those are human for sure.
A human had once saved his life in place not too unlike the jungle, and she’d died doing it.
Fox ran his fingers over his fury throat again, the fibrous tissue hardened with knots. Not long after that, he lost his voice. If it hadn’t been for Doctor Michelle Riley, though, he’d have lost a whole lot more.
His finger-tips brushed his scar as he recalled how the doctor’s smile had always touched her large brown eyes. Even while slaves on the run, Michelle always knew how to brighten his mood. A smile had been her parting gift…right before the explosion.
Fox scrunched his eyes and exhaled deeply, fighting back the rising fire in his chest.
Focus, you bastard. Michelle wouldn’t want you getting caught by the Drahk again over stupid memories.
He swiped the chronograph on his wrist and opened Sasha’s file. Blue eyes looked out at him from under wavy black hair. A spattering of faint freckles crossed the bridge of her nose. She could have passed for a younger Michelle if not for her eye-color.
Perhaps that was why he’d accepted the assignment. Well, that…and the price tag. If the retrieval price ASTRA had put out for Sasha was any indicator, the girl’s parents had plenty of credits to spare, and Fox needed all the credits he could get. He sniffed the musk again, making the sure the hunters weren’t moving in his direction. He wanted to add a few smoking Drahk corpses into the bargain, but he preferred to handle one
or two at a time.
Satisfied, they were moving away from him, he flicked his chronograph, and a tiny panel slid free. He sniffed the panel, reminding his smell receptors of his target’s scent. It wasn’t too unlike the one he’d already detected, but it had its own signature for sure.
The dark-gray clouds parted, and the raging sun instantly heated the damp air, sending a wave of humidity sweeping through the trees, carrying sickly sweet odors.
He pushed a broad, green leaf out of the way and ducked under several more.
Like other Drahk planets, Roth received regular shipments of human children bound for the auction houses and squares before getting shipped off to various sectors across the galaxy.
After ducking and weaving through the underbrush, he arrived at a glade covered in stubby plants with small silver flowers. He was about to skirt the razor lilies when his ears twitched.
Five throaty clicks pierced the air, and Fox froze where he stood. Several more clicks issued from ahead. The Drahk were closer than he expected, their musk partially masked by the heady perfume of the jungle plants.
He crouched low and raised his blaster as he circled, pushing through another section of long leaves.
Something cracked a few meters ahead, and he slipped behind the nearest tree.
The ground crunched again, and the padding of boots grew louder. The Drahk exchanged a series of clicks and someone moaned.
His nose bobbed, searching for more information. He gagged as the Drahk smell almost overwhelmed him. But beneath the horrific musk he detected that delicate scent.
The human girl.
He tightened his grip on the blaster as he slowly peaked out from behind the tree. His eyes widened.
A young woman, no older than eighteen human years, stumbled through the foliage, energy cuffs binding her wrists. She dragged her feet as a lumbering Drahk pulled on a knotted rope around her neck, while the second clicked curses. Her head rolled from side to side as she struggled to follow. Hair matted with humid jungle air clung to the side of her muddied face, and filthy rags hung from an unnaturally narrow frame.
Both Drahk wore standard slaver fare; light military-grade armor with jungle camo, the green and brown scales on their bare arms and heads also blending with the surrounding vegetation. They each carried an automatic plasma rifle and a sidearm. They walked eastward, away from him, likely seeking to rejoin the rest of their hunting party.
Fox was about to run to the next tree when the Drahk stopped. They spoke together in glutaral, punctuated clicks as some kind of argument broke out…Something about going faster if the soft-skin was dead.
From his hiding spot, he watched the exchange unfold, his muscles tensed, ready to act.
The larger of the two appeared to win the disagreement.
Hot air rustled the trees and orange beams punched through gaps in the canopy, casting dancing shadows around the Drahk and their prey.
The Drahk holding the rope pulled the woman to the ground and the taller pushed the nuzzle of his rifle between her shoulder blades.
The woman screamed as she hugged her knees, her cries all but inaudible. “Please…” was the only word Fox could make out.
The Drahk weapon whined as it powered up.
The woman sobbed.
Fox’s eyes darted about the clearing, his mind racing.
As the rifle rose to a high-pitched ping, he snapped a short, metallic rod from his belt. He pressed a button on one end and three narrow slits opened on the other. The potent iron tang of Kydra blood stung his nostrils.
He tossed the device into a nearby cluster of trees.
Both Drahk spun at the noise, pointing their weapons. The taller barked an order and his hunting partner tentatively moved towards the Drahkrod, peering down the length of his rifle.
Another muggy breeze ruffled the jungle, and both Drahk stopped in their tracks, their eyes widening, their fanged mouths salivating uncontrollably.
Like mindless beasts, they sprang after the Kydra taint, unable to resist their ancestors’ favorite prey.
As they rummaged through the underbrush like dogs digging for a bone, Fox sneaked up on them, motioning for the woman to keep quiet.
To his relief, she obeyed.
He got within meters of the reptilian scum and pulled the trigger.
Purple bolts exploded from his blaster, slamming into the Drahk. A bolt struck the nearest in the back of the head, felling him instantly. The other managed to turn around before searing plasma licked half of his face from his skull. He released a blood-curdling howl before two more rounds punch a hole into his chest plate, making way for a third.
Both bodies lay in the jungle litter, smoke rising from their ghastly wounds, filling the immediate vicinity with bitter-sweetness notes of burnt keratin and roasted lizard meat.
Fox approached the hunters and confirmed that they were dead using the tip of his boot. He kicked their rifles into underbrush to be on the safe side.
Scanning the area, he listened for signs of more.
The rest of the hunting party are bound to be near, and they would have heard that howl.
Fox couldn’t hear anything beyond the creeks and crows of wildlife, but he hurried all the same. He retrieved the Drahkrod and cleaned it on one of the hunters before returning it to his belt.
He checked their pouches and pockets, hoping to find coin or something of value...a few extra credits for his troubles perhaps. Coming up empty handed, he spat on their bodies.
Useless even in death. That brings it to eight-hundred and seven. The least I can do for my people.
He rounded the copse to check on the human.
She was gone.
He sprinted to where he’d last seen her and found her collapsed several meters away.
She didn’t even have enough strength to make a run for it.
Fox approached the young woman and kneeled down, brushing hair tangled with twigs and dead leaves out of her face.
She looked up at him, her lips quivering and her eyes welling with tears.
She had never seen a Vosan, or maybe she had but still thought him a threat.
Probably thinks I’m going to take her as a slave for myself.
That was just how things worked in Drahkonis space.
He quickly keyed something into his chronograph.
“I’m here to help,” the computer read.
She pushed herself away, fingers clawing at the dirt. “Get away from me!”
Angry clicks sounded in the distance, soon followed by the rush of thudding footsteps. The fur on Fox’s neck stood on end.
He holstered his gun and leaned down to help the woman up. She screamed and clawed at his eyes. He tried to motion for her to be quiet, but he may as well have told a Drahk not to stink like death.
He ducked under a wild swipe and wrestled her over his shoulder, almost taking a knee to the face. He squeezed tightly, doing his best to secure her, glad the Drahk had used cuffs. She still had fight for someone who could barely walk after being hunted like a beast.
Securing her with one final heave, he sped through the jungle, bouncing off as many trees and vines as he dodged, all the while somehow managing to keep a hold on the struggling human. His boots suddenly struck waterlogged mud, almost causing him to fall, but he straightened his tail and regained his balance. He sloshed into the water, sending ripples across the swamp-water as he forced his tiring legs forward.
The clicks grew louder.
Judging by the sounds, Fox counted around sixteen.
The woman squeaked as he dropped her feet-first into the swamp, splashing his face with mossy water.
He pressed the cloaking button on his belt, and Hopper reappeared, hovering several inches above the islet before them.
The craft hummed softly as she came to life and her side-ramp descended.
The shouting got closer.
If they see the ship we’re screwed.
Fox reached for the human, but she pulled away, al
most tripping.
Her eyes darted between him and the ship.
“You aren’t taking me!” She made for the bank as if unable to hear the approaching threat.
The other end of the rope around her neck floated on the water before him.
He clutched it tight and pulled as hard as dared without breaking her neck.
The woman fell back into the water, clutching at the rope.
He pulled the rope with every ounce of strength remaining in his arms, causing her to skim across the water.
He dragged her up the ramp, and it closed behind, cutting them off from the sounds and smells of the swamp.
Fox finally relaxed his grip on the rope and flexed his aching fingers.
He held on to the woman’s shirt. She tried to kick with her legs, but her strength failed one last time, and she slumped against a maintenance access panel.
Reaching for a nearby console, he punched a command onto the controls.
He tapped the button on his belt again and the ship’s hum lowered to an inaudible whisper.
“Cloak activated,” Hopper said quietly.
Fox swiped the control display again, and a holographic map appeared above a small shimmering plate. The map showed ten heavily-armed Drahk tearing through the jungle, heading their way. Others spilled in from the trees, bolstering their numbers.
With a bit of luck, they won’t notice Hopper.
He fished a metal scepter from a cabinet and flicked the power switch. A small jet of electricity danced on the end. The human looked away in fear as he waved the device between her hands. The cuffs clattered onto the metal-gridded floor.
The human’s hands dropped to her sides and she looked up at him, her mouth hanging open.