Starblazer

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Starblazer Page 13

by Spencer Maxwell


  For once, Ace was grateful for the sand, as it masked his approach. He moved with stealth, as silent as a cat stalking its prey.

  Five feet away, he shifted his finger from the trigger guard to the trigger. But—

  Ace squinted, a feeling of dread settling in his stomach like a brick.

  What is this?

  The legs were not legs. Leaning closer, Ace saw it was just a bodysuit stuffed with bramble and junk, attached to a pair of boots.

  It was a trap. He spun around, expecting to see the Thrathan above, aiming her own rifle down at him. He quickly accessed his hololens for a thermal scan, but the whole screen was red. The planet was nothing but heat.

  No shots fired on him yet. He swept his rifle over every crack and crevice. Nothing.

  “Secure the perimeter,” Ace told the cybersoldiers in binary.

  “Affirmative.” The soldiers moved out, their arm cannons thrumming. Somewhere in the distance, a great airbeast cawed, the only other sound besides their charging weapons. Or so Ace thought.

  He strained his ears, listening, because he was sure he heard something else. A clicking of some sort. You’re too old for this, Ace, he told himself. The looks the crew gave you were right. You shouldn’t have come out here. Your pride is going to be your downfall.

  The sound came from behind. He turned, got on his knees, and peered at the ship’s undercarriage. An array of wires jutted out from the body. He saw scorch marks and the faintest of sparks from the wires. It seemed the starcraft’s engine had died. Perhaps it wasn’t built for the type of atmosphere Zed had, and the sudden change of temperature and climate did the engine in. That would mean the Thrathan was probably long gone, traversing across the desert toward the nearest city or she had already found transport off-world. Ace hoped the conditions would’ve done his work for him and killed the mercenary but he knew better. Thrathans didn’t easily succumb to death; they were as stubborn as he was.

  Kneeling, he reached out for the wires. If she’d just killed the engines recently, the coils would be hot enough for him to feel through the gloves of his suit. If not, then she may have gone a while ago.

  He stopped. A light blinked beneath, so faint he could hardly see it in the sun’s glare. This light didn’t belong to the ship. Someone had installed this, whatever it was. An old tech tracker, maybe? Ace thought. Obsolete compared to ours.

  The Dominion didn’t operate with such outdated gadgets; they were a thriving, ever-evolving powerhouse.

  But, had he studied the old tech a little more, Ace might’ve been able to prevent what happened next.

  The flashing stopped.

  Must’ve died with the rest of the sh—

  Suddenly, three quick beeps chirped from the device, as loud as blaster shots, causing his heart to jump into his throat—but not as loud as what followed it.

  Old tech or not, Ace knew the warning sounds very well. This wasn’t a tracking device.

  It was a bomb.

  He dropped his weapon and turned, trying for purchase in the sand, failing, and dove as far away as he could from the ship.

  He was no young man anymore. No matter how young his mind sometimes felt, his body betrayed him, and he couldn’t escape the rush of flame and heat.

  When the device exploded, it sent Ace careening through the air. Fire ripped his suit and seared his flesh. The pain, immediate and fierce, was too much to comprehend, and before he hit the ground, he lost consciousness.

  A sudden jab in his side. He opened his eyes, not slowly like a man coming out of a deep sleep, but like a man used to being jolted awake. The pain engulfed him instantly. He bit down a scream. Here was his nightmare, but it wasn’t a dream. It was real, and he wished he didn’t recognize the woman standing over him.

  Akyra.

  “You fell for my trap, Silver,” she said. “How did I get so lucky? Aren’t you supposed to be a master strategist?” She laughed, throwing her head back, dreadlocked hair snapping in the howling wind.

  Ace blinked as turned his head, determining his surroundings. His head was all he could move for he was bound. The walls were rock. Strange symbols were carved in the stone and painted over with red. Blood, Ace thought. Of course it’s blood.

  “What is it?” Akyra asked. “Can’t talk?”

  He wasn’t sure if he could, and he certainly wasn’t going to try, because the words that would’ve came from his mouth would’ve shown weakness, and there was only one word on his mind: Water.

  He needed water.

  Ace Silver wasn’t a man who begged. He would rather die of dehydration than do that.

  “You are in rough shape, my friend. I don’t believe you will live much longer, and I’m sure you’re in a lot of pain, aren’t you?”

  He remained as still as stone, not letting the agony bleed onto his features. He wouldn’t give the Thrathan the satisfaction.

  “No need to be coy, Silver. Your eyes betray you. Your face is unchanging, but your eyes…I see the agony there.”

  He forced himself to speak. It wasn’t easy. The simple act of moving his lips brought on another bout of fire. His tongue felt like it weighed a hundred pounds, and the energy it took to get his voice box going nearly wiped him out, but he spoke nonetheless. “Fuck you,” he said. Simple, to the point, and without a stutter.

  The Thrathan smiled, needle teeth exposed in neat rows. She meant to intimidate him, but she didn’t. Not many did. “How very kind of you, but I think I’ll pass on that.”

  The anger he felt won out, burying the pain. “If you’re gonna kill me, you better do it now. Because as soon as I’m able to stand, I’m going to kill you.”

  “Kill you? Are you insane? Have your famous wits left you in your old age, Silver?”

  Ace squinted. He was coming back down to earth, his surroundings clearer, his senses sharper, but with it came the pain, somehow worse than before. He almost couldn’t ignore it.

  Control, control, control was the mantra in his head.

  As he was thinking this, Akyra bent next to him. He flexed his muscles, trying to break free of his binds, to no avail. From a pack, she pulled a needle out. “You see this?” She motioned to the bandages around her legs. “I, too, was burned back on Xovia, and this stuff—this stuff saved me. I’ve healed almost completely.” She held the syringe in the air, flicked it a few times, and the serum dripped from the needle. “I took two full doses. Naturally, such a thing is required for a Thrathan. But you, Ace Silver, you could probably skate by on half a dose, and the pain would all but leave your body…for a time, while your tissue repairs itself.”

  “So you’re gonna keep me alive,” Ace said, not a question.

  “Just barely,” Akyra replied. She showed him how much serum was inside. Not much at all. “This’ll keep you from lapsing into cardiac arrest, but the pain will still be there. As it should be.”

  “The God-King won’t like this,” Ace said.

  “I said it earlier: I don’t care about him.”

  “He personally recommended y-you.” A stutter. Not good. Control, control, control.

  “Because I am the best. It’s simple.”

  “Then why did you fail?”

  “Unforeseen circumstances. Not to mention your Dominion’s cybersoldiers aren’t worth much when it comes to battle. Your little queen and her friends cut right through them, and then I was outnumbered completely, but I don’t make excuses. Hold still, this may hurt, Silver.” Akyra jabbed the syringe into Ace’s thigh. He bit his tongue to stop himself from screaming. Blood filled his mouth, coppery and warm. Instantly, the pain dampened but only a fraction. “I’m sure you’ve heard that Thrathans aren’t the smartest race, especially our females, and I’m sure you’ve heard rumors of our kind eating flesh and absorbing certain…properties. Well, one of those statements is true, while the other is a matter of opinion.”

  She paused for dramatic effect; Ace wasn’t fazed. He only watched her closely, willing his body to grasp a hold of the trace a
mounts of serum coursing through his veins.

  “I have eaten much flesh, and I’ve absorbed many properties. I am not your average Thrathan. I am much, much smarter. Perhaps after this is said and done, I’ll be a war-master myself.”

  “Is this the part where you divulge your plan to me?” Ace said. It was easier to talk than before. “That crystal isn’t worth anything. The only thing you’ll get from it is death. The God-King will send his entire army after whoever has it. And if he can’t find them, he’ll blow up every planet until he does.”

  “Screw the crystal. That means nothing to me. I don’t want it. Tracking it down and fighting Starlo and his pals isn’t worth it to me. Thought it was, but it’s not. But you, Ace Silver… Oh, imagine what the God-King will pay for his precious best-friend-slash-war-master. You are an important man to the Dominion. You know things people in this galaxy would cut their own legs off to know.”

  Ace did what he did best. He lied. “The God-King doesn’t care about me. He’ll get a new war-master, and the secrets will all be out in the open soon enough.”

  “Oh, we’ll see about that, but if the God-King doesn’t want you, I know of a rebellion who will. With what you did to Xovia, a planet ‘protected’ under your rule, more and more will join them. They would pay good, good money to get your secrets. And your head.”

  “You and I both know I’d never talk.”

  “Maybe, maybe not,” the Thrathan said. “If you don’t talk, I’m sure they’ll have a hell of a time torturing you, making you pay for the millions of lives you’ve claimed in your pursuit of peace. You see, I don’t care one way or the other. At the end of the day, no Dominion or rebellion can control me. I’ll get paid. I always get mine.” She grabbed her rifle and raised it. “For now, Silver, you can go to sleep. I’m sick of hearing your voice.”

  The gun’s stock cracked against his skull, and Ace Silver slept.

  Twenty-Three

  The Starblazer drifted through Cryton space. So far, no patrol ships had met them. Still, Ryze felt the impending doom; it was only a matter of time before the Crytons picked them up on their scanners.

  Jade and Wylow entered the cockpit. The viewscreen showed the planet below. Soon they would enter a gravity well and, whether they liked it or not, they’d be pulled to the surface.

  “What’s happening?” Jade asked.

  “Ship’s regulator circuit is down. We need to make an emergency landing,” Ryze answered. He brushed a bit of blood off his forearm. Whose blood it was, he didn’t know. When Spex told him they were heading straight for Cryton IV, he'd rushed to his quarters and put his armor back on as quick as he could. His helmet sat in his lap, ready to go on at a moment’s notice. He hadn’t tried it out since the fight in the comm center, too worried it’d be broken or malfunctioning. The ship’s regeneration machine for his gear was good for the armor, but repairing the helmet, with all its tech, was a fickle process. An expensive one, too. When the time came, he would put it on, but he expected the worst—broken, irreparable—and going to battle without a helmet was basically like fighting in the nude.

  Ryze patted the top of the helmet now, fingers brushing divots and chips—divots and chips which could’ve been in his skull instead—and he stared absentmindedly at the planet. Its red and brown swirls glowed menacingly.

  “There’s something you’re not telling us,” Jade said. She crossed her arms and leaned back. Regal as always; Ryze could respect that. Her father was the same way. You never saw him without his crown, photo-ready in the blink of an eye, prepared to shake hands and kiss babies. No doubt he'd taught Jade all of this, and he had taught her well.

  “Nothing,” he said, shaking his head. “We’re fine.”

  The intercom clicked softly, followed by static—a sign the Starblazer was on the cusp of total power failure. If they didn’t reach the surface before that, they’d be drifting through the blackness of space for the foreseeable future.

  “Ryze is wanted by the Gedix Hunil,” Spex said. Somehow, it sounded like the AI was grinning as he spoke.

  “Gedix Hunil?” Jade asked.

  “Don’t listen to him,” Ryze said. “We’ll be all right. Just bad luck, that’s all.”

  “What, sir? Are you not wanted by them? Did you not steal three hundred thousand frags' worth of fuel?”

  Wylow whistled. “That’s a lot of fuel.”

  Raising a hand to show how it was not a big deal, Ryze said, “Beside the point, Spex.”

  “And now do they not have a bounty on your head, sir? I believe they do—”

  “Spex, you’re not making me look any better, man. I shouldn’t have even told you about that…”

  “I am sorry, sir. I was worried my memory banks were depleting. Such an occurrence tends to happen to programs the likes of me.” The AI’s voice was neither mocking nor hostile. He sounded honestly concerned.

  “Your memory banks are fine. In fact, I think they’re too fine,” Ryze said.

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Jade laughed. “You two are cute. When’s the wedding?”

  Ryze glowered at the queen.

  “Entering the atmosphere now, sir,” Spex said, his voice barely a whisper. The Starblazer shook with the force of their descent. Without the thrusters, it was a rough and bumpy ride.

  Over the noise of air battering the hull, Wylow asked, “Are you not worried? I know of the Gedix Hunil; they’re not a faction to trifle with.”

  Ryze looked over his shoulder. This wasn’t easy, considering the ship’s waning artificial gravity. “No, I’m not worried.”

  A lie, of course. He didn’t exactly like the fact that he’d fallen right into the Hunil’s lap without a fully functioning craft. He could say it couldn’t be worse, but was that the truth?

  No, you’re fine, he told himself. You’ve got your flayzer. That’s all you need. No worries.

  “Leveling out, sir,” Spex said.

  Ryze took hold of the controls and guided the Starblazer through swarms of dark clouds. “Anything on radar, Spex?”

  “Nothing yet, sir.”

  “Yet. That’s comforting,” Jade said. “Can’t we fly somewhere remote…you know, where the gangsters you owe money to won’t find us?”

  “I wish I could, sweetheart, but Cryton isn’t exactly like Xovia. There’s one big city, and that’s where we’ll find the parts for the ship. Plus, the group you just called gangsters are the planet’s leaders, and they absolutely hate me.”

  “That’s not exactly a hard thing to do…” Jade mumbled.

  “Coming up on the city now, sir,” Spex said. “With our current trajectory, we can land here.” The map to Ryze’s left flashed a waypoint. “Ty’s Shipyard.”

  “Shit,” Ryze said softly. He brought the craft into the regular flow of traffic, cutting off a cruiser and seeing a Cryton bug make an obscene hand gesture through his cockpit window. Ryze was too lost in thought to give the gesture back.

  Ty’s Shipyard. This was not good.

  “Shit? Why shit?” Jade’s eyebrows raised, then her voice took on a sarcastic tone as she asked, “This guy want you dead, too?”

  Ryze didn’t immediately answer.

  “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Jade said.

  “I wish I was. Ty’s not exactly a…forgiving bug.”

  “What did you do?” Wylow asked.

  Ryze shrugged. “Beats the hell outta me. Spex?”

  “Before my time, sir.”

  “If I had to guess, I probably ripped him off. Maybe killed one of his bounty hunters or destroyed one of his ships. Can’t say for sure.”

  “Is there anyone who doesn’t want you dead?” Jade asked.

  “You?”

  Jade frowned. “I guess, but I don’t know for how much longer.”

  “What’s that?” Wylow asked. She pointed to the large ring hovering above the city. Chrome-plated wires as thick as skyscrapers jutted from it and attached to the ground.

  “Power,” Ryz
e answered, glancing at the fuel. Somehow, the ship was below zero percent. Things were past the point of terrible. “And the Hunil’s headquarters.”

  Wylow leaned closer. She smelled like sweet. “Wow.” Her dark eyes blossomed. Ryze found himself studying her. He was suddenly aware of how attractive the queensguard was. Brown skin smooth and unblemished, save for a few healing cuts on her cheeks and forehead, irises like distant stars twinkling. She caught him looking at her and smiled. Ryze jerked his head away.

  Geez, can you be any more obvious?

  “Yeah, it’s pretty cool,” he said, trying to sound confident again. “But you never want to go up there unless you’re an engineer or part of the Gedix Hunil. Anyone else summoned to the ring is most likely there to be executed.”

  “What does that mean, Gedix Hunil?” Jade asked. “In their language?”

  “Fuel reserve completely empty, sir,” Spex said. “Power at negative percent.”

  “I see that, Spex. Saw that. You’re a little behind, buddy. I’m gonna have to put her down now. Hold on, everyone.”

  The ship descended out of the air lane, dropping with enough force to make Ryze’s stomach sink.

  Wylow instead answered the question Jade had asked. “My Cryton language is rusty,” she said, “but I believe Gedix means ‘death’ and Hunil means ‘one hundred’.”

  “Close,” Ryze said. “Hunil translates best to the Common word ‘Centurions,’ meaning Centurions of Death. They’re a long-running bug family. Been around this planet for generations when they came out of the ground and claimed the surface for themselves. There’s always a hundred of them. Somehow, they make running the place work—imagine that, a hundred family members agreeing on everything without argument. Hivemind, I guess. I barely get along with Spex—and that’s just one fella. On top of that, he’s not even sentient.”

  Jade snorted laughter. “How intimidating, and no offense, Ryze, but you’re not exactly the easiest to get along with, either. I feel for ya, Spex.”

 

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