Starfighter

by Killian Carter

  “I give you the infamous Fox,” Vismark announced with pride.

  “I see.” Darris’s mouth hung agape. “That is a surprise. He’s been hassling us for years. How did you capture him?”

  Vismark tapped his temple. “Using this.”

  “You’ve broken him?”

  Vismark hummed. “Something tells me that Fox would die long before anyone could break him.”

  “Pah,” Darris spat. “Everyone can be broken.”

  “Even so, we didn’t need to break anyone. Notice the metal ring on his head?”

  “Yes, it’s a strange piece of jewelry for one with his reputation.”

  “That’s because it is not a jewelry. It’s the product the doctor and I have been developing. Doctor Grong is using it to control Fox using the counterpart crown on his head.”

  Darris looked to the doctor then regarded Fox. “How do I know this isn’t an actor you’ve hired to impress me?”

  “Lord Darris, please. Give me some credit,” Vismark said with mock offense. “But if you insist on evidence, I shall give you evidence. Bring her in.”

  The doors swung open and two robed Drahk led a small Sasha in on a leash. They showed the girl to Darris.

  Fox stiffened, but he couldn’t make his body do anything more no matter how hard he tried.

  “This young human is Fox’s latest mark. I used her as bait to lure him here. Doctor release Fox for a moment.”

  Suddenly, Fox felt much lighter and control returned to his body.

  Not knowing what else to do, he sprang to Sasha.

  “Stop,” Doctor Grong ordered.

  The stabbing in Fox’s head resumed. His limbs spasmed and twisted to obey the command.

  Darris snorted, evidently unimpressed.

  “Allow me to demonstrate just how much control we can exert over someone,” Vismark said. “Come here, Fox.”

  “Go,’ Doctor Grong said.

  Fox marched back to Vismark’s side.

  “He killed several of my guards when he broke into the city. He would do anything to get that girl, but not while wearing the control crown.” Lord Vismark offered a blaster to Fox, nozzle-first.

  A voice in Fox’s head told him to take it and he obeyed.

  Darris and his advisors suddenly grew a little restless. The slave lord’s guards looked at him unsure, but he motioned for them to wait.

  “It’s clear you know this is the Fox all slavers fear. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be so nervous,” Vismark continued. “But there’s nothing to worry about. Fox, bring Lord Darris his gift.”

  Fox obeyed the voice in his head again. When halfway to Lord Darris, the voice told him to stop and turn around and he did so. It told him to take the blaster by the grip and he flipped the weapon expertly catching the other end.

  “Fox, what are you doing?” Vismark said, sounding uncertain. “Doctor Grong?” The armored lord twisted in his chair. “Doctor Grong, what’s going on.”

  “Fox,” the Drahk doctor said. “Point and aim for Lord Vismark’s head.”

  Fox’s body obeyed.

  Vismark reached for his blaster, forgetting he’d given it to Fox.

  The guards on both sides pointed their rifles at each other.

  “What’s the meaning of this, doctor?” Lord Vismark demanded. “Are you trying to get us all killed?”

  “Like I said,” Lord Darris said rising from his chair. “I like surprises and I hope I surprised you.” He cracked a fanged smile.

  Vismark turned to Doctor Grong. “You traitorous frog. You’ll destroy everything we’ve worked so hard to build.”

  “This,” Doctor Grong motioned to the throne room and to the city in general. “This is not the Drahk way. You have used your technology to make us weak. But Lord Darris will use it to make us strong…to collect more slaves than ever before.”

  “My accountants have already run the data,” Lord Darris confirmed. “The numbers are pretty impressive. I’ll be playing with the big boys in no time. I have to admit. When Doctor Grong first told me about this control crown of yours, I didn’t believe him. But I’m mightily impressed.” Lord Darris clapped his hands. “You’ve truly outdone yourself this time, Vismark.”

  Vismark’s chair scraped, and he rose to his feet, fiddling with his helmet.

  One of the Darris’s guards aimed his rifle at the armored lord and he paused.

  “You asked what I’m hiding under the armor.”

  Darris motioned for his guard to stand down, and Lord Vismark pulled the headgear from his head.

  Darris rose from his chair in a rage. “You’re a woman?”

  The black helmet struck the floor like a bell and Fox lowered his blaster.

  A woman brushed strands of hair out of her face, a familiar smile touching brown eyes he hadn’t seen in years.

  An invisible sledgehammer struck his breastplate, tearing open an old wound in his heart, the stabbing blades in his head a distant memory.

  “Michelle?” he whispered.

  “I’m sorry, Fox. This isn’t how I planned things.”

  Fox’s lips moved, but so many words tried to escape his mouth at once they got caught in a jam.

  “Now, let’s really see this device in action,” Lord Darris said. “Execute her.”

  “You heard him, Fox,” said Doctor Grong. “Do as Lord Darris ordered.”

  Fox inhaled sharply as the invisible knives drove deeper into his skull.

  He swallowed as he brought up his blaster around, struggling against an overwhelming desire to pull the trigger.

  “What are you waiting for?” Darris demanded.

  The knives in his head drove deeper as Doctor Grong increased the crown’s power.

  Fox fought to regain control of his body and his muscles spasmed.

  “Kill her!” the Drahk doctor shouted.

  Fox’s vision swam as he fought against his gun arm, swinging it away from Michelle and back again.

  He pulled his hand away, pulling the trigger. The room spun around his head as he wrestled with himself. He crashed into a chair and tripped, hitting his temple against the corner of the table. He shook his head and his vision cleared to find the room in chaos.

  His arm spasmed again as the madness unfolded around him.

  Plasma smashed walls and windows as the Drahk gangs exchanged fire, filling the throne room with clouds of glass and mortar.

  Michelle crawled on her knees, dragging her helmet as she struggled towards the throne.

  Fox noticed a gaping hole in the side of her armor.

  She looked back at him, her face twisted with pain.

  “Finish her,” Doctor Grong shouted from behind a pillar.

  Fox’s blaster leveled at Michelle again. “No,” he said, his voice breaking. His finger pulled the trigger and plasma smashed into the throne as Michelle reached cover.

  Pain pulsed from his temple, the unpleasant throb somehow diminishing the effects of the control-crown. He forced his left hand to his throat, extending his claws and plunging them into the scar. Agony burned the stabbing knives in his head to mere needles. He spun on his heel and pulled the trigger.

  Doctor Grong slumped against the pillar and slid to the floor, half of his head plastered to the marble.

  Fox tore the crown from his head and cast it away. The device struck the cobbled floor and bounced under the long table. He dropped the blaster and clutched at his stomach as he doubled over, vomiting.

  Pulling himself together, he climbed to his feet in time to see Tick launch in his direction, his fangs bared and claws ready.

  18

  Thrones and Roses

  Kelvin banked right then left as enemy fire tore into the surrounding buildings.

  The Drahk gunship had power and speed, but his skimmer had agility in spades. Not that it would matter when another gunship joined the fray. He knew he couldn’t outmaneuver more than one. He’d been trying to shake it for the guts of thirty minutes.

  He banked sharply, d
rifting back before the spire. He looked to the line of tall windows. The Drahk guard told his comrades to take Fox to Lord Vismark.

  Sweat clammed up his flight suit and helmet.

  They’ll have him in the throne room. But how do I get in? He looked back towards the distant hole in the dome, the stars glinting where the sky showed. I could be through it in under fifteen minutes. What use would I be anyway? I can barely use a blaster, and I’m clearly not cut out for this shit. Then again, it’s my fault he’s in this mess.

  He tapped the belt-compartment containing the data crystal. He’d gotten what he came to Roth for. He would just have to tell Corri that Fox didn’t make it.

  Kelvin pulled the controls and the skimmer’s engines hissed as it turned.

  Thunder rumbled below, and he looked down to find the Drahk airship ascending to his position.

  He pulled the controls hard and kicked the boosters into overdrive. The skimmer rose at a sharper angle than any gunship could. Satisfied with the altitude, he spun the controls and the skimmer spun back on itself. He dove back toward the spire, descending on the gunship. He pulled the trigger and the plasma cannon shrieked, raining fire down on top of the gunship.

  The Drahk vessel turned on its side, allowing a Drahk gunner to lean out and return fire.

  Kelvin dipped the skimmer, a stream of orange plasma barely missing his head.

  He lined up for another shot and screamed as he pulled the trigger.

  Smoke bellowed from the mangled gunship as it dropped toward the city.

  “Yes!” Kelvin shouted. He hit the boosters, but nothing happened. He looked back and found smoke streaming from the skimmer’s engines. “No.’

  He looked ahead in horror. The spire was coming in too fast. Glass exploded from several windows, and plasma bolts sailed aimlessly out into the darkness.

  Not having time to wonder what was going on inside, he frantically pulled at the controls but they didn’t respond. His hand lashed out for the airbrakes.

  Two panels on the nose extended and began to hiss loudly. The skimmer slowed, but not enough. Is this how I die? Plastered against the side of a building on an alien world?

  He threw him arms around his head and braced for the crash. He screamed as his body tumbled through the air, limbs flopping. The world spun.

  His left shoulder struck something solid and something snapped. The front of his helmet scraped against something coarse and he imagined the spire’s steep walls grinding his body to a bloody pulp as he plummeted to the streets.

  He skidded to a stop. He tried to moved his aching hands. One set of fingers found solid ground. He realized, with horror, that he couldn’t feel the others.

  Agony exploded from his shoulder as he rolled onto his back. Acrid smoke stung his nose. Loud noises rang out and lights flashed all around him.

  He tested his left arm again and was rewarded with another wave of pain. He looked at his shoulder and found his arm twisted back-to-front. His head grew light, and he forced his lungs to draw slow, deep breaths so as to avoid fainting.

  Finally bringing himself under control, he looked at the rest of his body. His armor was beaten up badly, but by some miracle all his other limbs were still attached.

  Using his right hand, he pushed himself onto his knees and shook his head, trying to free of the daze. He found himself inside the throne room, chaos all around him.

  He winced as a chunk of plaster struck the floor less than a meter away and shattered.

  The fighting seemed fiercest on his side of the room.

  He pulled his blaster free and made his way to the other end of the table. He slowly crept out from behind cover.

  Less than fifteen feet away, the Drahk with the hideous scar held Fox against the stump of a pillar with one hand and drew the other back, his curled claws extended.

  Kelvin raised his blaster and fired.

  A bolt struck the Drahk in the back.

  It released its hold on Fox, letting him slide to the floor, and looked up at Kelvin with fury seething in his eyes.

  It sprang for him.

  He pulled the trigger repeatedly until the blaster overheated.

  The Drahk stood there as if ready to spring again. Its eyes widened, and it crumbled to the cobbled stones face first. One arm twitched several times before becoming still.

  Kelvin tapped it with his boot to be sure.

  Beyond the body, Fox pulled himself back to his feet.

  Kelvin hurried to him.

  Fox clutched his throat, blood bubbling from between his fingers.

  Kelvin tried to help, but the Vosan brushed him off and pointed to the table. “Get Sasha.”

  Kelvin looked at the table and saw a pair of frightened eyes looking out from under a high-backed chair.

  “I’ll get her. Take this.” He threw the blaster and Fox caught it with his free hand. “Cover me.”

  Fox nodded and fired several shots as he backed toward the throne.

  Kelvin dropped low and scrambled for the chair.

  He sneaked a glance at the fight beyond and saw a well-dressed Drahk calling orders to guards on the winning side. The giant throne room doors lay beyond the fight.

  Ignoring the throbbing in his shoulder, Kelvin leaned down and nodded to the girl.

  “You must be Sasha.”

  She nodded nervously, looking like she might crawl further under the table at any second.

  “One of your friends sent me here to help you,” he said, trying not to sound too desperate in case he scared her further. He reached out with his good hand. “Take my hand. I’m taking you home.”

  “I don’t have any friends here,” she cried.

  Kelvin ducked under a line of plasma bolts. Fox came out from behind the throne and returned fire.

  “Maybe you didn’t. But you do now. He’s waiting for you behind the throne there. He wants to take you home.”

  “You promise?” she asked.

  “I promise.”

  The girl pursed her lips as though unsure whether to believe him.

  He beckoned gently with his fingers and smiled. “We need to go before the lizard-brains come for us.”

  “Okay,” she said, taking his hand.

  Kelvin guided Sasha from under the chair and she wrapped her arm around his neck.

  Kelvin tried not to groan as she squeezed his broken shoulder.

  He looked back at the throne and Fox nodded, signaling for him to go. He lifted Sasha with his good arm and sprinted for the throne.

  Plasma smashed into the throne, coming too close for Kelvin’s comfort.

  Fox answered in kind.

  He reached the throne and slid to the ground, scrambling behind the throne with Fox.

  He let Sasha go. “We’re safe for now, but you need to stay here for a minute. Okay?”

  Sasha nodded looking at something to Kelvin’s left.

  He turned to find a woman in black armor resting against the back of the throne. Her chest plate heaved, her breathing labored.

  Fox returned fire and withdrew behind the throne, allowing the blaster to recharge. “This blaster is almost out. We need to do something soon.” He looked to the woman. “Michelle, only a few of your Drahk are alive. They’ll have a clear path to us soon. Any ideas?”

  “Michelle?”

  Fox nodded, looking as confused as Kelvin felt. “I thought she was dead.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  “I might be dying, but I’m still very much alive. And I can hear you.” She coughed and winced.

  Sasha whimpered and Kelvin pulled her close. “Well, this is a strange turn of events.”

  Fox crouched. “We’ll all be dead if we don’t figure something out now.”

  Michelle pointed to the corner ahead. “There’s a hidden door in the right corner.”

  Fox scanned the right corner. “I don’t see a door.”

  “It wouldn’t be a secret door if you could,” Michelle moaned in pain. “You’ll find a cobble
on the floor in the corner. Press it and a panel will slide free.”

  Fox wanted to help her, but it would be pointless if they couldn’t get out of this mess first.

  “Keep an eye on them Ernest.”

  The pilot nodded, hugging Sasha close.

  Fox checked that the blaster had cooled sufficiently and steeled himself.

  He ran for the door, firing over his shoulder.

  Heavy rifle fire struck the ceiling ahead of him, dislodging giant chunks of masonry.

  He scrambled back behind the throne as the ceiling collapsed, blocking the way.

  “There goes that plan,” he muttered. “Any other bright ideas.”

  Michelle didn’t respond.

  He quickly kneeled down in front of her and found her face had gone pale and her eyes distant. He poked the wound at her side.

  “Aaaah,’ she cried, life pouring back into her eyes. “What did you do that for.”

  “Michelle, I need you to focus. We need a way out. Your last few Drahk are almost down and they’ve barred the door.”

  “If you could get the doors open…”

  “Not possible. There are too many of them.”

  She looked at him and smiled, the same way she had before forcing him off the cliff all those years ago.

  He swallowed hard and pain flared in his throat, but it paled when compared to his shock. Part of him still thought the control crown had fried his brain and was causing him to hallucinate. But those familiar brown eyes staring up at him couldn’t have been more real.

  “Michelle,” he said, tasting blood on the back of his tongue. “That night…The explosion. All this time, I thought you were dead.”

  “It was a biological bomb.” She breathed hoarsely. “With chemicals to change the Drahk brain.”

  “It’s how I’ve been controlling them.”

  “Like the Drahkrod?” he moaned.

  “Something like that,” she muttered.

  “But the flash?”

  “It still detonated. Almost killed me.” She looked down at herself. “Hence the suit.”

  “Why didn’t you just tell me about the bomb?”

  “I…I made the bomb using limited materials we picked up on the run. I couldn’t guarantee it would work. If not, at least one of us had to escape. If I told you, you would have tried to take my place.” She scrunched her eyes.