Jack hesitated. He was pretty sure that whatever was pressed up against his head was a fairly big gun, but he certainly didn’t like the idea of giving up the only thing he had that he could use to defend himself.
“How do I know if I drop this, you’re not going to kill me?” asked Jack.
Behind him, the voice was silent for a moment before it spoke again. “Crikey. Faruuz, ya understand a bloody thing this little bugger just said?”
“Just shoot ‘em already,” said the green-scaled Faruuz as he stared down the barrel of Jack’s rifle. “The browner hit me with a bleedin’ rock.”
Whomever Jack suddenly found himself with, it was obvious neither of them was speaking English. He could somehow understand both of them, but it was clear they had no idea what he was saying. Jack suddenly thought of his interface with the Ancient terminal, and how he heard all those voices in his head. If he had somehow downloaded how to understand these languages, maybe he had also downloaded how to speak them?
“Um…” said Jack trying to find the right words. “I said, how do I know if I do as you say, you’re not just going to shoot me?”
To Jack’s surprise, he actually spoke in the right language, and for some reason, it wasn’t that hard to do.
“Not for nothin’, lad,” said the voice behind him. “But if I wanted ya dead, we wouldn’t be havin’ this conversation right now.”
Somehow, that logic made sense to Jack. Slowly, Jack moved the rifle away from the one he assumed to be Faruuz and dropped it on the ground.
Faruuz grabbed the rifle and scrambled to his feet, leveling it at Jack. For an instant, Jack felt he’d made a terrible mistake, until someone else stepped in front of him, shielding him from the alien’s weapon.
“Now, now, play nice, ya scaly grolp eater,” said the man in front of Jack.
“He hit me wit’ a bleedin’ rock!” growled Faruuz.
“Aye, ya mentioned that,” said the man. “Now, ya gonna mention yer just pissed ‘cause some mystery midget laid ya out and took yer weapon while makin’ ya cry like a bloody female?”
Faruuz grunted and lowered the rifle. “I think I liked ya better when you were a ripe ol’ browner, Scally,” the alien growled.
“That ripe ol’ browner woulda let this one melt yer face, don’t forget,” said the man. “Now shake it off, and let’s get back to camp.”
Faruuz grumbled and gave Jack the evil eye before walking off, rubbing his head where the rock had hit him. Jack watched him go with a sense of cautious relief.
“Thanks,” said Jack.
The man turned toward Jack to reveal that he wasn’t really a man at all. His skin was bright red and leathery; he had a pointed chin and long, flowing jet-black dreadlock-like hair. His teeth were large and bright white, and he had long whisps of black hair on his upper lip that hung down like a mustache.
The alien was dressed in what looked like a silly medieval costume to Jack. He had knee-high black boots, baggy pants, and a torn and faded burgundy jacket, the kind with two long tails in the back, worn over a faded brown vest. He had various types of guns and knives strapped to a belt that hung low on his waist.
All in all, Jack thought the thing before him looked like a strange mix between a pirate and a devil.
“Don’t mention it,” smiled the alien. “Seeing Faruuz get beaned in the noggin’ made my day. I haven’t seen the jowler go down like that since the Havee bugs on Sigma 5 raided his scales. Ha!”
“Okay,” said Jack, having no clue what the alien just said. “Um… who are you guys?”
“Well, in case ya didn’t pick up on it, that right ol’ brute was Faruuz,” said the alien. “And I be Scallywag the Red, professional scoundrel, part-time rake, full-time captain of the pirate vessel Reaver. At your service.”
Scallywag gave a slight bow and smiled. “And who might you be?”
“My name’s Jack.”
“Jack, eh?” said Scallywag. “That’s a weird name. Ya almost look like a Regal, but not quite as uppity. What are ya, lad?”
“I’m ah… I guess you’d call me an Earthman.”
“Right-o,” said Scallywag pulling out a rather odd looking small pistol from his belt. “Know how to shoot a blaster, Earthman?”
“Yeah.”
“Good,” said the alien, handing him the weapon. “If you see anything that moves, shoot it. If it keeps moving, shoot it again. If it insists on continuing to move, continue to shoot until it sees the wisdom in doing otherwise. And try to keep up, because if ya get lost, yer on yer own. Savvy?”
With a pat on the back, Scallywag began to trot off after Faruuz.
“Wait!” said Jack, following behind him. “Where are we going? Where’d you guys come from? What is this place?”
“We are going back to our camp,” said Scallywag as he bounded up an outcropping of rocks. “Our ship was captured by the Deathlord Fleet right outside the Yucca system, and as for where ya are, well…”
As Jack reached the top of the rocky hill, he froze. Before him was an immense cavern stretching out for miles and miles, made of veined black rock from ceiling to floor. Sounds of moaning and screaming echoed throughout the cave, and somewhere in the distance was a massive pillar of brilliant, ghostly white light that spiraled and churned chaotically.
“Welcome to the Pit, lad,” said Scallywag as he surveyed the scene before them. He turned and looked at Jack with a frown. “This is where we’re all gonna die.”
Chapter 20
The hangar bay doors closed with a thunderous CLACK as the tractor beam disengaged, isolating the Ancient Earthship in one of the mothership’s many smaller hangars typically reserved for captured vessels.
Immediately after the hanger sealed, atmosphere vented back into the room, and the large, circular, metal entrance rolled open to reveal a small army of Deathlord soldiers. They filed in and took up position around the ship, weapons drawn, ready to blast anything that moved.
Abraxas entered the large hangar and glared at the ship. He’d have liked nothing better than to have simply ordered his soldiers to rip the vessel apart, but the Deathlord Supreme wanted it examined. After all, technology from the Ancient Heretics could be a valued prize, and a ship that seemed to be able to disappear and reappear out of nowhere would certainly be of use.
“Report,” Abraxas barked. The Deathlord squad leader Vishni, who had been in charge of the boarding assault, attended to him.
“Warlord Abraxas,” Vishni said. “All of our boarding parties have been destroyed. Whoever is on board that vessel is an extremely skilled warrior.”
Abraxas’s mind flickered back to his battle at the temple. “That is an understatement,” he growled. “Keep sending in the troops, as many as it takes. I want that ship.”
Vishni nodded. “Yes, Warlord.”
No sooner had Vishni ordered another boarding party to teleport onto the ship than the party leader called in over the comm.
“The control room is empty,” said the Deathlord. “It appears they have fallen back into the rest of the ship.”
“Follow them,” ordered Vishni.
“They have sealed the door behind them, Commander,” the Deathlord replied. “Shall we break through and pursue?”
Vishni looked to Abraxas. “What are your orders, Warlord?”
“Secure the command room,” said Abraxas. “The Supreme does not wish to have the ship damaged any more than it is before the Acolytes can take a look at it. We’ll have them open the doors and then we’ll begin a sweep.”
“Is that wise, Warlord?” asked Vishni. “That could give them time to—”
“To what?” snapped Abraxas. “What is there for them to do other than cower and hide? We have them surrounded. We control their bridge. Their ship is trapped in our hangar. There is no escape for them.”
Vishni bowed his head. “Apologies, Warlord. I did not mean to question your orders.”
“Then redeem yourself,” rumbled Abraxas. “Find that warri
or, and bring me his head.”
“I swear to you, Warlord; he will die this day,” replied Vishni.
While the Deathlord troops were preparing to board the ship, deep inside it, both Shepherd and Professor Green were looking for a way out. After escaping from the bridge and sealing the door behind them, their search of the quarters along the hallway had yielded nothing. They found no exits, no weapons, no places to hide, only barren, empty rooms.
Finally, the two had come to the end of the hallway, and nowhere in sight was there any sign of escape.
“Oh, dear,” mumbled Green. “We are in quite a pickle, aren’t we?”
Shepherd grimaced. That was putting it mildly. “Our priority right now is to find the Princess,” he said.
“Easier said than done, I’m afraid,” replied Professor Green. “By now, they undoubtedly have the ship surrounded, and it’s only a matter of time before they get through that door. I hate to say it, but I’m afraid we’re trapped.”
“There has to be some way off this ship,” Shepherd growled.
Suddenly, a door behind them hissed open. Shepherd and Green turned and looked, startled. They expected to find a Deathlord hit squad bearing down on them, but instead all they saw was a dark room.
“I say,” said Green. “Did you notice a door there before?”
“No,” said Shepherd. He popped out a cannon from his gauntlet and stepped into the room cautiously. No sooner had he entered than a friendly white light turned on, illuminating the room and revealing its contents. On the far wall, a small platform jutted out, made of a glowing white metal. Two computer consoles stood a few feet before it, humming patiently.
“Green, what is this?” asked Shepherd.
Green walked up to one of the consoles and began examining it. “Well, I’ll be,” he muttered as he read through the data on the screen. “It’s a teleportation device!”
“A teleporter?” grunted Shepherd. “Like what the Deathlords use?”
“Well, considering we have very little knowledge about how Deathlord technology works, I can only speculate that it’s similar in the respect that it does teleport things from one place to another,” replied the Professor. “Beyond that, I have no idea. The Empire has nothing even close to this level of technology. How I’d love some time to delve into the science behind this—”
“Can we use it to teleport the Princess back to the ship?” asked Shepherd.
“Hmmmm,” said Green as he tapped a few keys, scanning through the console’s data. “It would appear we could—”
“Do it,” the Paragon barked.
“If we knew what her location was,” continued Green.
Shepherd punched the wall in frustration, leaving a slight dent in the smooth white metal that composed it. The only images running through his mind were all the horrible things the Deathlords could possibly be doing to Anna while he desperately grasped at straws trying to figure out what to do. He felt helpless, and he did not like that feeling one bit.
“On the bright side,” continued the Professor, “this is our way off the ship.”
“You can teleport us off?” Shepherd asked.
“Short range scanners are hooked into this system,” responded Green. “I could teleport us somewhere deeper into the Deathlord vessel, away from the ship. That might give us the opportunity we need to track down the Princess.”
Shepherd nodded. Finally, some good news. “Hurry up and punch in the coordinates.”
“Should I even bother pointing out that I just recommended teleporting us deeper INTO a Deathlord mothership?”
“We must rescue the Princess,” responded Shepherd.
“Undoubtedly, but we won’t be much use if we get ourselves captured, or more likely, killed.”
“Green, you’re wasting time!” snapped Shepherd. “Now punch in—”
“NO!” exclaimed Green.
The outburst was so unlike the Professor, Shepherd was taken aback. Green composed himself. “I never thought I’d see the day when you would blindly rush into a situation as dire as this without a plan, old friend,” he said. “I know you’re anxious to get the Princess back, but please consider – we have no way of knowing if the location we teleport to will be safe. Once there, we have no way of tracking down the Princess. And should we, by some miracle, find her, we will still be in the heart of a Deathlord Mothership.”
Shepherd nodded. Green was right; he was letting his emotions get the best of him. He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself.
“Can you figure out a way to teleport us somewhere that’s not likely to have any Deathlords present?” Shepherd asked.
“Possibly,” replied Green. “I don’t think they’re expecting anyone to infiltrate their ship so security will probably be fairly light. But that doesn’t account for the fact that if someone sees us, we’re dead. This is a big ship, but I doubt we can roam around it freely without being discovered.”
“The hologuises,” said Shepherd. “There’s a safety feature on them that will project that of a Deathlord soldier. It comes installed on all hologuises to help aid in escape if attacked.”
Green’s eyes lit up. “Yes, I’d forgotten about that,” he said. “Nifty little security feature, indeed. But that program is based off of eyewitness accounts and battlefield video. There’s no way it will stand up to close scrutiny.”
“It’ll be good enough,” said Shepherd. “As long as we don’t get too close to any of them.”
Green nodded. “Well, that’s one problem solved. Sort of.”
“Once we’re in the ship, do you think you can access the Deathlord’s computer system and figure out where they’re holding Anna?”
“I can try,” said Green. “Worse comes to worst, I could break down the programming code into binary and figure out a basic understanding of how their system works. That could take time, though.”
“Better than nothing,” responded Shepherd.
“And what about Jack?” asked Green.
“We need to rescue him, too,” Shepherd said. “Without Jack, even if we find the Princess, we’ll be stuck here.”
“If the Deathlords haven’t already killed him,” replied Green gloomily.
Shepherd nodded. Anna was of value to the Deathlords so chances were she was still alive. Jack, on the other hand, could be dispatched by them without worry. Shepherd knew if that were the case, then their chances of escape were quite grim. “We’ll have to assume he’s still alive until we find out otherwise,” Shepherd said.
“And if he’s not?”
“Then we’ll stay hidden until we figure something else out,” said Shepherd.
“Stay hidden on a Deathlord Mothership,” said Green dryly. “Nice to see you have not abandoned your sense of optimism, dear Paragon.”
“Frankly, right now we don’t need optimism, Professor,” replied Shepherd. “We need a miracle. Now punch in the coordinates, and pray the Princess and Jack are still alive.”
Chapter 21
It felt like they had been walking for hours. Jack stumbled after Scallywag and Faruuz as they made their way over the rocky terrain, occasionally stopping to scavenge various pieces of what looked like wreckage of space ships, but they usually came up with nothing.
The two aliens didn’t use flashlights or torches, which made traveling with them difficult. The Pit was so dark, sometimes it felt like they were walking through an empty void. If it weren’t for the faint glow of whatever was veined into the rock, and the illumination from that strange pillar of light, Jack doubted he’d be able to find solid footing on anything.
Faruuz took the lead, since he claimed he was better at seeing in the dark (though that hadn’t helped when Jack hit him in the head with a rock). The two aliens moved quickly, as though they knew the terrain, and Jack had to hustle to keep up. They traveled in silence, which meant the only thing Jack had to focus on was the sound of wailing and moans that seemed to echo through the air. Occasionally, he’d hear the rustling o
f pebbles nearby, as though some small animal had just streaked across their path, but Jack never saw anything. He just gripped the small pistol Scallywag had given him a little tighter.
“Are we almost there?” Jack whispered as he climbed over an outcropping of rock after the two aliens. “You know, wherever it is we’re going?”
“Aye,” said Scallywag. “The camp’s just a bit further.”
“You said that, like, an hour ago,” whined Jack. With all he’d been through that day, he was incredibly tired, and the brisk pace his companions were keeping was quickly wearing him out.
“And I was right an hour ago,” replied Scallywag. “Just like I am now.”
“Well, you think we could slow down a bit?” pleaded Jack. His legs were starting to feel heavier than lead.
“Not a good idea,” said Scallywag. “A leisurely stroll through the Pit is a good way to get killed, lad. The sooner we’re back at camp, the better.”
Jack grumbled. The only thing he’d seen so far in the Pit were these two aliens, and they didn’t seem that dangerous (well, compared to the Deathlords, anyway). Jack wondered what was out there that had them both so on edge.
“Well, if you’re not going to slow down, can we at least talk about something so I don’t have to listen to all these creepy noises constantly?” Jack begged.
Faruuz snorted. “Want me to recite a beddy-bye story for ya? Maybe give ya a nice cup o’ warm milk before tucking ya in?”
“No offense, but you doing that sounds even creepier than all these noises,” replied Jack.
Furuuz turned and gnashed his pointy teeth at Jack. “Ya think this is a joke? Just where do ya think ya are, Earthman? Eh?”
“Um… the creepy Pit of Death, apparently,” said Jack.
“Back off, Faruuz,” muttered Scallywag.
“Oy, stop ordering me around like yer still me Captain, Scally,” sneered Faruuz. “This tag-along you picked up is gonna get us killed with all his talking. Remember yer own rules? ‘Move silent, move fast.’ That’s what ya said.”
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