Samurai Guns (Orphan Wars Book 3)

by J. N. Chaney

“Thanks, Zedas. That’s very helpful. You should go into motivational speaking.”

  “Truly?”

  “No.” I sift through floating ice until my hands and forearms go numb. “I was being sarcastic. I’m tired. Let’s just find this thing and get to the ship.”

  “Okay. But that is too bad. I am intrigued by this motivational speaking vocation. When this is over, you must show me how to do it.”

  “Find the tablet, Z-man.”

  “And you have made it ugly.” He searches in one direction, and I take the other half of the beach. In an hour everything will be so frozen it will be hard to tell where the water ends.

  When I see it, the sense of relief is even more than I expected. I pick up the slate-like device and wipe it off. It’s cracked, wet, and filthy with sand and grime from the ocean. “I have it. Let’s go.”

  We head inland, Zedas leading the way to our ship.

  “I feel like my motivational words had more effect than you are giving me credit for,” Zedas says.

  “Maybe they did.” In other circumstances, I might be annoyed with the Dogan, but things are looking up. “Put me down for a reference.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “When you start doing Ted talks and seminars, they will ask for references. Drop my name and I’ll talk you up,” I say.

  “This process sounds delightfully mysterious. What is name dropping? Hmmm. It is decided, I will be the first of my people to do this thing,” Zedas says. “We will perform great sem-may-nars, Doctor Hank Murphy.”

  From time to time, the Dogan’s rapidly improving vocabulary hits a snag. I laugh good-naturedly and we bump fists. He takes the lead, setting an aggressive pace just short of a jog.

  I try several times to activate the device without success. At least I have it instead of my enemies. The day wears on but the terrain looks familiar. Entrances to the canyons pop into view. We steer clear of them.

  “I’m beat, Zedas-Duryan,” I say. “Please tell me we are close.”

  “We should see the ship soon.” He hands me a ration bar. “Perhaps you are also hungry.”

  I devour the bland clump of nutrition thinking it’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted. “Wow, that hit the spot.”

  “Hitting the spot is good?” Zedas asks.

  “Yes it is.” I tuck the wrapper into my outer layer of clothing, which would be damp if it wasn’t completely frozen.

  Zedas points into the haze. The silhouette of the Heptagon stands solidly among swirls of snow. Night is approaching and the wind is picking up.

  “I wish I was a meteorologist. This place would be a wealth of information,” I say. “A storm chaser could have a ball on this planet.”

  “We have a problem.” Zedas points toward the other horizon. The Prothean ship is back.

  11

  “Run!”

  Side by side, Zedas and I take off across the tundra. He’s fast for his size, but I find it an easy pace. From time to time, I jog backward to look for the ship. It hasn’t abandoned its methodical search, which is good. If it came straight at us, we’d be done.

  “Why does it scan from one horizon to the next?” Zedas pants.

  “Technically, there’s only one horizon,” I say, not thinking about my words. My internal map is updating. I know almost nothing about this planet despite my recent trials.

  “I believe you understand what I am saying,” Zedas says, pausing between words to get them out. “Should we be going to the ship? Will that not draw them after us?”

  He’s right, but I see a bigger problem. “Was that how you left the Heptagon?”

  Zedas slows to a walk.

  Smoke drifts into the sky. What looked like a proud silhouette of our ship is exactly that, but only half of it. The closer we get, the more I realize most of it has been destroyed. The white ground around it is charred black.

  “We can’t stop now,” I say. “Shaina and Garin could still be there, injured and needing help.”

  Zedas starts running without a word. I match his pace, but also look toward the Prothean scout vessel as often as I can. The markings are familiar, but I’m not confident it belongs to Axu. I’m also unsure whether I want it to belong to that particular Prothean.

  On one hand, I know what to expect from him. The next alien scout we meet might slaughter us outright. But I’ve also run out of tricks with Axu. If he still has a tracking device, then we’re in trouble.

  “I can’t power up the OG tablet,” I say. “Axu was attempting to triangulate it’s location. Maybe, if this thing is broken, he can’t do that anymore.”

  “I don’t understand how that could benefit us? Why would we desire broken technology?”

  I don’t have an answer for that.

  “I hope you can make it work. If the Dark Eye and the Prothean believe it is the key, and we have it, maybe we have a chance to win the war,” Zedas says.

  “If it’s broken, we’ll fix it. Assuming they don’t murder us first.”

  Zedas gives me his best tooth grinding laugh. “Now look who is the motivational speaker.”

  Neither of us talk after that. Lungs burning, I focus on speed, knowing it will never be enough. The Prothean ship makes another turn, arcing back on the next leg of its search grid.

  “The Prothean scout is thorough,” Zedas complains.

  He’s not wrong but I have my eye on the Heptagon. We’re so close. The ship is destroyed, but it is also the only place to take cover for miles.

  “We could head for the canyons,” Zedas says. “That must be where Shaina and Garin fled. I don’t see them.”

  “That’s worse than getting caught.” I consider his idea despite having shot it down immediately. “Come on! Run, Zedas!”

  We sprint the final distance and slide under the damaged wing of the ship. In the distance, the Prothean statue ship makes another turn—the last one before reaching this section of the open plains.

  “Get down!” I peer out, hoping our pursuer will pass us by. Maybe it isn’t Axu.

  “How did you survive the Prothean attack after I towed the engine?” Zedas asks, watching the same thing I’m watching.

  “The sea creature attacked us. We ran. I woke up in a cave with Axu interrogating me,” I say. “There are a lot of pieces missing. I think he put me on his ship and flew me to his little hide out.”

  “How did you keep him from taking what you want?”

  I lift the defunct Orphan Gate key. “I had it shoved down one of my many layers of pants.”

  “Very clever,” Zedas says. “Why didn’t he simply slay you and take it. That is their way, if stories are true.”

  “I convinced him that I hid it elsewhere.”

  Zedas ponders this.

  The Prothean scout ship draws ever closer.

  “He believed you?” Zedas asks.

  I shrug.

  “Maybe he needs more than just the device. I suspect the Prothean requires your assistance to use it.”

  “That’s a real possibility, Zedas-Duryan.” I search the ship for a weapon and find nothing. “We’re out of time.”

  “Yes. That is correct.” Zedas deploys his sword and chain. “I stand ready to defend you, Doctor Hank Murphy.”

  “Stay back for as long as you can. Don’t let him see you. Surprise might be our only chance,” I say.

  Zedas fades into the shadow of the ruined hulk. After all Shaina did to repair the Heptagon, the Protheans blasted it before it became airborne. We just can’t win this time.

  A shudder rolls through my body. Anger and my Orphan upgrades are the only things keeping me warm. I stare at the flaring engines of the statue ship as it lands.

  “I have not seen one of them disembark,” Zedas says. “This could be interesting.”

  This turns out to be an understatement. The statue, seemingly inarticulate, reaches forward and faces its palm toward us. A door spirals open from the center to reveal Axu standing in battle array.

  His armor is differe
nt than before, his weapons more obvious and his defensive layers thicker. He carried a stout, knee to chin shield on his left arm and a spear with his right.

  “Murphy the Doctor, I see you,” Axu says, planting the butt of the spear in the ground and holding it at an angle from his body. “Where are the others?”

  “All dead,” I say, stepping forward and motioning toward the blackened ruin of the ship. I hope Shaina and the kid are okay, but that’s a worry for another time. “Thanks to you.”

  “That wasn’t my work, but my brothers and sisters,” he says. “You know what I want. I don’t know how you have concealed it from my sensors, but you play a dangerous game. There are powers in the galaxy waiting to burn you to ash. Unload the burden. Give me the gate key. I will protect you.”

  “From what, the wrath of your people? Excuse me if I don’t have much faith in your mercy. My crew is dead, my ship destroyed. You still haven’t returned my coat.”

  He reaches behind his back, grabs a wadded up bundle, and throws it at me.

  I catch the parka, slip it on, and make a show of hugging myself and getting warm. At the same time, I activate the comms embedded in the collar of the hood. “Shaina, can you read me? Please respond.”

  No answer comes.

  “I don’t know how you survived without the coat,” Axu says. “That should have kept you trapped in the cave until I finished my search of the land.”

  “I’m an Orphan,” I say.

  “Of course. I forgot the portals mutate weaker races.”

  “I’ve got news for you, buddy. I’m better than I’ve ever been,” I say.

  “Are you?” He advances, then looks beyond me. “Your body may be stronger, your mind sharper but how long can you hold onto your sanity?”

  I shift to draw his attention away from Zedas. Up close, he looks like more than a match for my friend. A fight is the last thing we need right now. With our luck, Axu will call for reinforcements the moment we get the upper hand.

  “That’s my problem, not yours. Don’t worry about it. Let’s negotiate, I assume that’s why we’re talking and not fighting.”

  He says nothing for an uncomfortably long time—like he’s attempting to trick me into filling the silence. I wait him out.

  “You have given me nothing, cooperated in no meaningful way,” he says slowly. “But I offer you this in good faith. There exists a path to salvation. You may find it, but the way will be hard. Tools will be required or you will die in pursuit of your ultimate goal. But the gate key is not one of them.”

  “Of course,” I say. “That’s convenient for you.”

  “Surrender it to me, and I will allow you to use it once. This is the only chance for you to save the Dogan hiding in the shadows.”

  I’m out of ideas. Every second that passes weakens my position. He knows I’m stalling, and he must realize I’m trying to trick him. What other options do I have? The Prothean is bigger and stronger than Zedas and me combined, and he has weapons that look extraordinarily dangerous.

  “I dropped it,” I say.

  He doesn’t like this answer. For a moment, I think he’s going to slice my head off or just stomp me into bloody paste. He settles closer, looks me up and down. “I think you did drop it. It seems like a stupid thing to do, but there is something in the way you stand there. Humiliation at your incompetence, perhaps.”

  It’s easier to lie when there’s some truth in the deception. All I have to do is leave out the part where I picked up the device again.

  “Long before you found me. In the canyon. If you give me weapons and time, I can try to retrieve it,” I say.

  “This will not be done. No weapons for you,” he says. “I am not so foolish as that.”

  “Take me with you. You’ll never find it without me,” I say, not believing for a second he’s going to fall for my reverse psychology.

  “Stay here and be glad I don’t just kill you. You have been more trouble than you are worth.” He hesitates, looks me over from head to toe, then locks eyes with me. “We are not done with one another, but I warn you that our conversations must never be revealed. Your death and mine would quickly follow. Should you require contact, call me Axudain, and I will bring my closest allies.”

  “Why would I want that?”

  “Dying at my feet will be better than waiting on the mercy of my people. I know you will run, but I will catch you no matter how far you travel,” Axu says.

  “All right, Axudain—”

  “Do not use the summoning now! Fool. Be away!” He flicks his hand toward me dismissively, then runs toward the nearest canyon entrance.

  Zedas emerges from the shadows. “He must think the tablet will be easy to find in that maze. This seems like a foolish miscalculation on his part. Perhaps the Protheans are not a more advanced, superior race.”

  “Let’s hope not.” I rummage through the coat pockets and start to search the ship for anything that might help us survive. “We need to figure out what happened to Shaina and Garin.”

  “Agreed, and we better hurry,” he says.

  12

  “I’m looking for clues, Zedas.” Keeping the frustration out of my voice is hard, even though I feel much better layered up in dry clothing and a new parka. Ration bars fill my belly, and I’m well hydrated for the first time in days. Things are looking up.

  “There are no clues,” Zedas says. “We established this truth hours ago.”

  “Sorry, buddy, but that isn’t good enough.” I continue to search for tracks leading away from the ship—something I’ve already done ten times without success. “Axu will be back soon, and he won’t be happy.” I key the comms embedded in my hood. “Murphy for Shaina, please respond.”

  “They must have been captured by the Protheans.” Zedas sits on the floor, crosses his legs, and relaxes his arms. “What else could have happened to them?”

  “Axu would have held that over our heads. He would have threatened to have them killed or tortured to gain my compliance.” I’m worried because Zedas made a good point earlier. The Prothean scout likely needs my help activating the Orphan Gate key. Which means he wouldn’t have left us here if he wasn’t confident we were stuck.

  Axu knows he can scoop us up at will and kill, torture, or imprison us.

  I slouch next to Zedas, not attempting to imitate his perfect posture. “I want you to be wrong.”

  “But I am not,” Zedas says without opening his eyes. “You should meditate. It might bring clarity to your cluttered mind.”

  “Yeah, sure. And I should eat more vegetables and get some cardio. Put myself on the list and get in shape, but who has time for that?”

  “What are you talking about, Murphy?”

  “Nothing. Rambling. Sorry.” I know what we have to do, I just don’t like it. “Let’s take what we can and get out of here. The ship is beyond repair. We need to hide from Axu and plan our next move.”

  Zedas stands in that amazingly fluid way I’ve come to expect. “I am ready.” He offers me a hand, then pulls me to my feet.

  We pack the rest of the ration bars, water, and warming packs, then head away from the ship at a brisk pace. The sky is clear of Prothean searchers. The sun is out. None of the local monsters burst out of their hiding places to attack us.

  Storms move across the horizon, creating a panorama of twisting clouds and sparkling sunlight. The wreckage of the Heptagon disappears behind us. After about an hour, I hear Axu screaming at the falling sun.

  “Someone isn’t happy,” I say.

  “Protheans are proud and full of wrath in the stories, like angry gods come to destroy the works of mortals,” Zedas says. “Most of those tales are fanciful, but there must be truth in the fables.”

  We start jogging and pick up the pace as we head for a new set of canyons I hope are less problematic than the first. “Give me an example. Which parts of the bedtime stories were fanciful? I’m assuming meeting one of them in person has proven a few things false.”

&n
bsp; “They don’t have wings or necklaces of Dogan skulls hanging from their necks,” Zedas says. “They are not all knowing, or else they would be impossible to fool.”

  “I doubt Axu will be fooled again,” I say as static fills my comms.

  Feedback erupts in my earpiece. I grab it through the hood.

  “Shaina for Murph, respond or we’re leaving,” Shaina says through waves of distortion.

  I wince as the feedback recedes. “Ouch, that was bad. Shaina, I’m here. Where have you been?”

  “Shaina for Murph, please respond.” A pause. “This is useless. If you’re out there, I’m going to find you and make you pay for this aggravation. Why can’t you just answer? Maybe pop a flare?”

  “Murph for Shaina, I read you but you’re breaking up,” I say, stopping to hold the side of my hood, pressing on the comm antenna embedded in the fabric to improve the connection.

  Static only grows louder.

  “We have to make another orbit,” Shaina says, arguing with someone.

  “They were picked up by someone other than Protheans,” I say. “That’s good news.”

  “Maybe,” Zedas says. “But it won’t matter if they think we’re dead.”

  The horizon lacks definition. That’s the problem with this world, especially once the wind kicks up. One moment there is brilliant, almost painfully bright sunlight reflecting off the frozen tundra. The next moment, I can’t see anything. Our early experiences on the planet also proved the storms can last days.

  “Let’s keep moving, north by northwest. I see a ridge. If we can get elevation, we’ll have a better chance of contacting Shaina,” I say.

  “Where did she find a ship?” Zedas asks.

  “I don’t know, but we’re going to find out. If we don’t then we better plan to live here forever.” The thought should trouble me more than it does. On a world where every minute is a test of our survival skills, I doubt we will have much time to think about the rest of the Goliath sector—which might be a good thing.

  “Do you have an imagination, Murph?” Zedas asks.

  “Never guessed you would ask me that question.”