Broken Worlds- The Complete Series

by Jasper T. Scott

  Darius thought he heard branches snapping; then a sudden ruckus of startled animal cries, one of them cutting off in mid-scream.

  He tried opening his eyes, but was too far gone, bobbing away on a black sea of oblivion. Dark shadows seemed to move around him, and the trees scrolled by. At some point he felt sharp, grinding stabs of pain that made him want to cry out in agony, but his lips refused to move. Trapped, a prisoner in his own body while shapeless horrors hulked about, torturing him. Am I in hell? The sensations didn’t last, but neither did his awareness.

  Some time later, he awoke fully and lay staring at the treetops. Branches clung like cobwebs to the glaring blue sky. Darius’s brow furrowed. He must have slept through the night.

  Flexing his arms, Darius propped himself up on his elbows. His pain was gone. Clean skin had replaced the bloody puncture hole in his side, and his legs were laid out straight, with no sign of the jutting white bone he’d seen earlier.

  Did I dream those injuries? he wondered

  Darius checked the date and time via his extra-sensory chip. The time was 1340 IST, and it was the 321st day of the year 1520 AU. He hadn’t thought to check the date before, so he had no way of knowing how much time had passed.

  He’d have to rely on other means of time-keeping. He smacked his lips and worked some moisture into his mouth. His throat hurt from dehydration, and his stomach was dissolving in its own acid, but he would be in much worse shape if more than a day had passed. Not to mention he’d be lying in a pool of his own filth.

  Comforted by his reasoning, Darius got up and tried walking. It didn’t hurt, and his legs worked just fine. Whether he’d imagined his injuries or not, those nanites must be miracle-workers. No one takes a hundred-story plunge and then gets up and walks around the next day like it was nothing.

  Darius cast about, trying to figure out which way he should go. Before he did anything, he needed to find water. And where was his sword? He felt sure he’d had it in his hand when he fell.

  Broken branches with their cone-shaped green leaves and broad, papery blue ones littered the forest floor. Those leaves were already dry and losing their color. Darius wondered about that, but then he saw his sword lying gleaming in a freckled pool of sunlight, and his mind turned to more important matters.

  Darius went to retrieve the weapon. Twigs snapped and leaves crunched as he went. He sheathed the sword in the scabbard at his side.

  Now what? Water. And then food. He felt around for his sidearm. By some miracle, it was still in the holster at his side. Darius breathed a sigh and nodded to himself. He could hunt and kill something with that weapon. He could also use it to start a fire and cook the meat.

  After that, he needed to find some way to get back up to the castle to rescue Cassandra—Dyara, too, if he could. He’d probably have to stun them both and drag them away if Nova had them under her spell. But then he’d still have to find some way to steal a ship.

  Darius frowned. How was he going to do all of that with Blake and the Marines guarding the castle and the transports?

  It might be easier just to sneak up to Nova’s room in the middle of the night and kill her. He couldn’t hope to best her in combat, but he’d already proven that he could hide his presence from her and Tanik. He just had to find some way to get into their room while they were asleep.

  Darius gave a grim smile. I’m coming for you Nova.

  Chapter 23

  Trista sat at an illuminated onyx bar tracing the fissures with her eyes as she sipped an icy wheat beer with a slice of orange in it. It was hard to say if the beer or the slice of orange had come from Earth, but it was a nice reminder of her ancestral home all the same. Hats off to the owner of Drake Depot #920. She and Buddy had come to the bar for a much-needed break from the confines of her ship. They’d been traveling for more than a week already, but they still had twenty days to go before they reached Earth.

  Beside her, Buddy gulped down his third beer and let out a thunderous belch. Heads turned their way, and Trista offered an apologetic smile on his behalf.

  Buddy patted his bulging stomach. “I’d better go to the restroom before I spring a leak,” he said, and climbed down from his bar stool. “See you soon.”

  “You do that,” Trista said.

  “Trista Leandra? Is that really you?”

  Trista froze. She knew that voice. Of all the people to run into... Don’t be Jaxon, don’t be Jaxon...

  A familiar man hopped up on the stool that Buddy had just vacated. “By the Revenants, it really is you!”

  Trista reluctantly turned to face him. “Oh, hey Jaxon. Imagine meeting you out here. I thought you got married to what’s-her-name and settled down on Praxis?”

  Jaxon grinned, his cheeks dimpling. He ran a hand through his dark wavy hair, and Trista experienced a flashback to eight years ago—meeting Jaxon at a bar not unlike this one. She’d made the mistake of letting him take her back to his ship, of getting sucked into his web of lies and empty promises.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I did.”

  The bartender slunk over to them, a white-furred Lassarian female with piercing blue eyes. “Drink?” she asked.

  Jaxon nodded. “Beer. Whatever’s the cheapest.”

  The Lassarian grabbed a mug and filled it from a nearby tap. A cloudy brown ale poured out. She slid the mug over to Jaxon and left.

  He took a swig, grimaced, and reluctantly swallowed. “Oh, that’s vile!”

  “What happened to the high life?” Trista asked, nodding to his drink.

  “Sedasa left me, and her Daddy’s lawyer made sure I got nothing. They made it look like I cheated.”

  Trista arched an eyebrow at him. “Did you?”

  “I’m not that stupid. I know a good thing when I’ve got one. Besides, even if I did cheat, I wouldn’t have got caught. Sedasa got bored with me, that’s all, and then she had her father take care of it. I can’t prove it, but I’m pretty sure he bribed the judge.”

  Trista frowned. “An android? You can’t bribe Executors. That’s one of the reasons Cygnians use them.”

  “No, not an android. Nowadays only criminal cases go before the Executors. They’re stretched thin with all their other duties, so the civil cases go to biological judges that they appoint.”

  Trista blinked. “I had no idea. I’m sorry?”

  Jaxon waved a hand to dismiss that sentiment. Not that she actually felt bad for him. He took another swig of his ale. “I’ll find another ride. Speaking of which, where are you headed?”

  Trista shrugged. “Places.”

  Jaxon looked at her. “Places? What places?”

  “Why do you want to know?” Trista asked over the rim of her beer mug.

  “Why don’t you want to tell?” Jaxon countered. He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “What kind of contraband are you hauling?”

  “I’m not.”

  “So why can’t I know where you’re going?”

  “Maybe because I don’t want you following me. You lost the right to know my business when you cheated on me with that horny vix. Now that she’s dumped your useless kakker, don’t think I’m going to give you a second chance.”

  Jaxon’s brow furrowed. “I apologized for that.”

  “Sure, and I forgave you.”

  “Because I gave you my ship.”

  “You transferred your loan to me,” Trista corrected. “And that was before we broke up. Besides, as I recall, you only did that so you could declare bankruptcy and not lose your ride in the process.”

  “We can argue about the details all day, but the fact is, you came out ahead. I had ten percent down on the Rogue. That’s a bundle of creds. Two hundred and fifty thousand. At the very least, you owe me that.”

  “I don’t owe you kak. The Harlequin is mine,” Trista said. “Legally you’ve got no claim to her.”

  “You changed the name? What was wrong with Rogue?”

  Trista shrugged. “The Rogue turned out to be a cheating vagon.”<
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  “All right, let’s do something. You give me a ride to wherever I need to go, and we’ll forget all about you owing me.”

  Trista regarded him steadily, staring into those slanting blue eyes and wondering how she hadn’t seen how full of kak he was from the start. He was right, she had made out pretty well thanks to his stupidity in transferring his ship into her name, but she didn’t feel like she owed him anything, much less a free ride to wherever he wanted to go. Besides, knowing Jaxon, that wouldn’t be the end of it. He was just trying to get his foot in the door. He had something else in mind.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, getting up from the bar. “I don’t have room for extra baggage. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to use the lady’s room.”

  Jaxon regarded her stonily. “Sure.”

  Trista left in a hurry. She passed Buddy along the way, staggering and hiccupping on his way back to the bar. “Hey, go back to the docking bay,” she said, bending down to catch his arm. “I’ll meet you there as soon as I get the supplies we need.”

  “We’re leaving?”

  “The Harlequin’s old owner showed up. He seems to think I owe him something, and I don’t want you getting mixed up with him.”

  Buddy nodded slowly, his big black eyes pinching into thoughtful slits. “I could bite him for you if you want.”

  Trista shook her head. “Better not. You might catch something. I’ll meet you back at the tender.”

  Buddy nodded. “See you soon.”

  It took Trista half an hour at the depot’s market to find the supplies she needed—mostly food and cosmetics. After that, she headed to the docking bay, pushing a full cargo crate’s worth of supplies on a rented dolly.

  She cleared the security scans at the berth where she’d docked her tender. There was no sign of Buddy, but that wasn’t a surprise. He was probably waiting for her in the cockpit, sleeping off all those beers. For a creature his size, three beers had to be like twenty.

  Trista pushed the dolly into the center of the docking elevator and gestured for it to take her down. The platform sank and the outer doors of her airlock rose into view. The platform jerked to a stop at the bottom of the docking tube, and she keyed in her security code. Both sets of doors swished open at the same time. No point wasting time to cycle the airlock when both sides were fully pressurized.

  Trista walked through a small cargo space behind the tender’s cockpit. It was only big enough for two crates. Station drones typically handled the loading and unloading of transports, but the handling fees were exorbitant, and there was no point in paying those fees for just one crate of supplies that she could easily push around by herself.

  Trista slid the cargo crate onto one of the magnetic cargo racks and pulled the dolly out from under it. After returning the rented dolly to the cargo elevator, she went back inside to shut the airlock.

  As soon as it slid shut, Trista turned and waved the cockpit door open. “Hey, Buddy, wake up!” she said as she approached.

  He gave no reply. Probably drunk out of his mind. Trista scowled. “You need to start earning your keep around here, furball,” she said, glaring at the copilot’s seat as she stepped into the cockpit.

  The pilot’s chair rotated to face her. “Hey there, Tris.”

  Her hand went straight to her hip, but her gun wasn’t there. Weapons weren’t allowed on the station, so she’d left hers aboard the tender, and now Jaxon had it, and he was pointing it at her.

  “How did you get past the security checkpoint?”

  “Buddy here authorized me.” Jaxon kicked the seat beside him, rotating it to face her. Buddy was tied up with zero-G tether and a sock had been stuffed in his mouth. His cheeks were bulging and his eyes were wide and darting, his chest rising and falling in quick, rapid breaths.

  Trista blinked in shock. “Why would he authorize you?”

  Jaxon held out his palm and a black insect buzzed out of it.

  “What is that?”

  “A stringer drone. One bite and you’ll be dead within an hour.” Jaxon nodded sideways to indicate Buddy. “Ten minutes for a little furball like him. The antidote is very specific. Nanites can’t produce it. No station has it.”

  Trista’s eyes flicked to Buddy. No wonder he looked so scared. “You poisoned him?”

  Jaxon’s lips twisted in a sly smile. “Well...” He glanced at Buddy and shook his head. “It’s actually harder than you’d think to get a weaponized drone past a security sweep these days. Luckily for me, your friend here is quite gullible.”

  Buddy’s hyperventilating stopped, and his eyes narrowed swiftly. He murmured a curse against the sock, and Jaxon laughed.

  “You didn’t meet me here by accident,” Trista realized. “You’ve been following me.”

  Jaxon clapped his free hand against the butt of her sidearm, leaving his drone to hover beside him. “Very good.”

  “How did you know where to find me?”

  “You forget, the Callisto-Abbex run was my route. I taught it to you.”

  Trista scowled. “What do you want?”

  “What do I want?” Jaxon asked, tapping his chin with the tip of her gun, as if he didn’t know the answer.

  She thought about jumping him now that he wasn’t aiming the gun at her, but she knew better than that.

  “Well?” she prompted.

  “I want what’s mine, woman. Give me my ship back.”

  “Over my dead body,” Trista spat. “She’s mine now. Who do you think’s been making payments while you were gone? It’s been a long time, Jax, and I’ve got easily as much invested as you did. Probably more.”

  Jaxon shrugged. “So buy out my share.”

  “How about we compromise. You wanted a ride, right? I’ll take you wherever you’re headed. No charge.”

  “No, I’m afraid that offer has expired. You can pay out my share, or you give me my ship back. Take your pick.”

  “And if I refuse?” Trista demanded. “What are you going to do? Kill me? Steal the Harlequin?” She shook her head. “Either way you’ll get caught and sent to the nearest hunting ground. You wouldn’t dare.”

  Jaxon’s smile faded, and his blue eyes turned to ice. “Maybe I’ll just tie you up and haul you around the galaxy with me while I make back the creds that you owe. No one bothers to search transports these days, not if you don’t dock them, and that’s what this tender is for, isn’t it?” he said, grinning and patting the armrest of the pilot’s seat. “I wonder how long it will be before anyone realizes that you’ve been taken hostage aboard your own ship? A year? Ten years? A hundred? It’s a pity your parents decided to go and get themselves killed in the Coalition.”

  Trista gaped at him. Her thoughts went to Gatticus. If the android was half smart, he’d figure out what had happened and lie low until he could get the jump on Jaxon.

  “What are you thinking about?” Jaxon asked with narrowed eyes. “Did you booby-trap my ship?”

  Grak it. He’d always been good at reading her. “I’ve got a boyfriend,” Trista lied, to distract him from other possibilities. “He’s waiting for me on Abbex. He’ll come looking for me if I don’t show up.”

  Jaxon barked a laugh. “A frigid vix like you has a man?” He shook his head. “I don’t think so. I’d bet a million creds that this little mascot of yours is the only person you have in the whole galaxy—if you can call him a person, that is.” Jaxon gave her a wicked leer. “But don’t worry. You have me now, so you don’t have to be lonely anymore.”

  “Touch me and I’ll cut it off.”

  Jaxon laughed. “The only thing you’ll be cutting off is the circulation to your wrists. He reached around behind him and pulled out a coil of zero-G tether. He tossed it at her. “Be a darling and tie yourself up for me, would you?”

  “Go fek yourself.”

  “I’d rather wait for you to do it.” Jaxon pulled the trigger, and the electric-blue muzzle flash of her own gun was the last thing Trista saw.

  Chapter 24

>   Darius used his awareness to get a bird’s eye view of the surrounding forest and found a nearby river. He ran to it and drank greedily. Distracted by his thirst, he didn’t notice, or sense, the Seeker creeping up beside him. It cried out and lunged, stabbing at him with its beak. Darius fell in his hurry to get away, and it leapt into the air, swooping down for the kill, talons reaching for his stomach.

  Darius pulled his sidearm and fired twice into the monster’s belly just as it landed on top of him. It went limp, pinning him to the ground under what must have been at least two hundred pounds of dead weight.

  Darius grunted and heaved, crawling out from beneath the dead bird. He heard another Seeker screeching in the distance, and looked up to see three black specks. They’d be here soon. Darius holstered his sidearm and drew his sword. He took a second to examine the Seeker carcass before picking up a leg and slicing it off. It came away in his hand, charred-blackened and sizzling. Good enough. He sheathed his sword and dashed back into the forest, putting some distance between him and the river. He hadn’t seen Seekers hunting on the forest floor, and he suspected they wouldn’t, since they couldn’t easily fly down there.

  Once he was a safe distance from the river, Darius chopped down a dead tree. It fell with a crash, and he set to work slicing it into blocks of firewood with his sword. He piled them up and set his pistol to beam rather than burst to start a fire. The pile of wood burst into flames and Darius held the Seeker leg over the fire to roast it. When the whole thing was as black as coal, he peeled away the burned bits to check inside. The meat was white. He blew on it, and tried a bite. It could have used some salt, but otherwise it was delicious.

  Once he finished eating, Darius used his awareness to cast his mind up, high above the forest, to search for the castle. He found it in seconds, burning bright with the luminous silhouettes of its occupants.

  As Darius returned to the forest floor, he found two particular trees on a line pointing toward the castle to use as landmarks. He walked by those trees and kept on going in that direction. It wasn’t long before he found himself back at the base of the cliff he’d fallen off. It was too high and too steep to safely climb, so he walked along it, looking for a way up. After about twenty minutes, he spotted something: a long diagonal fissure in the side of the cliff, running all the way from the base to the top. As he drew near, he saw steps inside the fissure, carved out of the rock. He couldn’t believe his luck.