The Corsair Uprising Collection, Books 1-3

by Trevor Schmidt

  The large Dinari stood with clawed hands at his side. His scorched dense scales seemed of trifling concern to him. The Dinari’s breathing was level and his muscular physique betrayed no signs of weakness. He appeared just as strong then as he did when he’d started the match. He opened his mouth slightly in the form of a smile, revealing a set of pointed yellow teeth, and asked, “Do you submit, Outsider?”

  The crowd grew silent, several Dinari hushing those around them while they pricked their ears. Ju-Long spat a thick glob of blood onto the packed sand of the arena floor. He looked to Liam at the side of the ring with a defeated face, squinting from the light of the sun. Liam clenched his jaw, tightening the long scar along his right cheek. If this was it, Ju-Long had performed admirably for a first attempt.

  Liam blinked. A hand had found its way to his shoulder. He hadn’t heard anyone coming, but over the ambient noise of the arena he could hardly be surprised. At his side stood Saturn Vera, a beautiful Latina woman who wore her hair in her trademark up ponytail which lightly grazed her bare shoulders. Saturn might have argued she was Argentinian, fiercely proud of her heritage, but Liam knew better. She was a third generation Martian holding on to the threads of her ancestors. Liam didn’t understand it, but then again, he’d never known his lineage from the start.

  Saturn put her arms behind her back and stretched, her ample bosom becoming more pronounced under her white tank top, which was made from the bleached fibers of a local plant, woven together into one long piece. The tightly laced strands pressed against her chest and drew Liam’s eye to its low cut. He clenched his teeth together and turned his gaze to the ring, ignoring the rush of blood fleeing his brain. Saturn’s smirk turned to a frown when she saw the state of Ju-Long.

  “What’d I miss?” Saturn asked, wiping beads of sweat from her thin cheeks.

  “It doesn’t look good.”

  “Leave it to Ju-Long to mar the first public appearance of the human race in this system.”

  Liam ignored her jab and asked, “Where’s Nix?”

  “Probably up to his eyes in liquor.”

  Ju-Long would have been too far away to hear what they were saying, but Liam noticed he was squinting and trying to make out the words regardless. Once Saturn arrived, Ju-Long’s expression changed. His breathing leveled out and he gritted his teeth with resolve. Ju-Long’s head turned back toward his Dinari opponent and he rose up to a standing position, a new strength fueling him.

  The crowd of Dinari onlookers went wild, their roar drowning out any chance of a conversation between Liam and Saturn. Both of them stood stone-faced as they watched on. From what their Dinari hosts had explained, most fights did not result in death, but if a fighter refused to submit it was not uncommon for serious injury to occur, or worse.

  Ju-Long took a ready stance, his barbed knuckles held calmly up in front of him and pulsing with flickers of brilliant blue electricity. The roar of the crowd slowly morphed into a chant. A day before, only a select few Dinari knew humans existed. On that day, they chanted his name like he’d been their champion for ages.

  2

  Saturn pulled Liam close and yelled into his ear, “We don’t have time for this. Nix has found a lead.”

  Liam’s eyes grew wide. They’d waited months for word from Zega’s contacts to no avail. It hadn’t been the easiest two months either. Nothing on Garuda was free. Zega had found odd-jobs for them to earn their keep while they waited. Once again, Liam found himself dealing with some of the more unsavory types in the galaxy. Despite his initial reservations, it felt good to freelance again. There were no corporate enforcers to deal with on Garuda.

  Over the roar of the crowd Saturn shouted once more, “Did you hear me? This is it. Our ticket home.”

  Liam remained focused on the fight, letting her voice wash over him with the din of countless others. Before they could worry about retrieving The Azure Key from the Ansarans, he had to make sure his crew remained intact. From the sidelines it didn’t seem like there was much he could do. Outside help would disqualify Ju-Long and then Liam would have to deal with his crewmate’s wrath.

  Ju-Long stood with his back turned to Liam, his legs bent and arms held aloft in a fighter’s stance. He was calm and collected, completely different from before. Maybe he had a shot after all.

  The large Dinari spun his head from side to side, his eyes questioning the chanting crowd. He bent his scaled legs and raised up his electrified fists. The Dinari narrowed his golden eyes and let out a snarl that was audible despite the restless onlookers. Their hands were mere centimeters from one another, the electricity in the air palpable.

  Ju-Long made the first move, backhanding the Dinari’s forward hand and delivering a small shock while he moved in closer. He let loose several punches in quick succession, but the Dinari brought up his back arm to shield his body from the brunt of it. Ju-Long stepped on the Dinari’s clawed foot and spun around, finding his opponent’s ribs with a well-placed blow. The Dinari took several woozy steps back, trying to put some distance between them. The crowd’s chanting died down. It was clear the fight was turning serious.

  “Wow,” Saturn remarked. “Where did that come from?”

  “Ju-Long certainly has a way.”

  Liam smiled. The tension between Saturn and Ju-Long was generally one-sided, but she’d began to lighten up after spending a few months around him. It helped, Liam noted, that Ju-Long was making a concerted effort to stay on her good side. He hadn’t made a pass at her in weeks.

  Ju-Long regained his stance and eyed his opponent with a piercing gaze. The Dinari no longer took him lightly, making his way around the edge of the ring cautiously. He seemed to be waiting for an opportunity to present itself, but Ju-Long was always vigilant, turning in place to keep his opponent in his sights.

  Throughout the fight, Liam had noticed that the fighting styles of the Dinari contenders was completely different from fighting on Earth. The Dinari used sweeping motions with their fists, as though they were used to using their claws to slash. It was only when they wanted to deliver a shock that they used their fists in a punching motion. Alternatively, Ju-Long fought with multiple Earth styles, including standard Earth Boxing, Karate, and Kung-Fu.

  The crowd was jeering now, anxious for action. The muscular Dinari turned his head to the crowd, clearly concerned with the insults being thrown his way. Ju-Long took advantage of the Dinari’s distraction and pounced, rushing his opponent at full speed. Before the Dinari knew what happened Ju-Long had landed three solid blows, blackening the alien’s skin with electricity. The Dinari hunched over with a hand on one knee, his spherical gold eyes wide with shock. Ju-Long wound up and landed an uppercut on the alien’s chin.

  There was silence as the Dinari’s body hit the compacted sand, sending up small plumes of dust around him. Ju-Long returned to a ready stance, his knuckles dancing with the light from the sparks. His opponent wasn’t moving.

  A Dinari judge ran into the ring and checked the fighter’s vitals. In his hand he held a cylindrical metal object attached to a copper device by two twisted wires, flashing all manner of colors at its user. The Dinari was shorter than any of the fighters and wore a loose-fitting garment that was marked with the symbol of a clawed hand, the logo of the Dinari tournament. The judge stood up and waved his hand through the air to hush the mumbling crowd.

  “This fight is over,” the judge announced, making his way over to Ju-Long. “I give you your winner!”

  The Dinari bowed low before him, a sign of deference. Ju-Long pumped his fist into the air in celebration. Thousands of onlookers cheered, their booming voices an assault on Liam’s eardrums. Liam couldn’t believe it. They chanted Ju-Long’s name once more, louder than ever.

  “He really did it,” Saturn said, her lip curling up into a smile.

  Liam and Saturn joined the Dinari crowd in their chant. Ju-Long smiled wide, taking in every second of the excitement. In that moment, Liam knew he was going to make a perfect poster boy for
the Human race. He craved the attention and now he’d shown he was not someone to be taken lightly. It appeared Zega’s plan was working.

  The Dinari judge made a gesture to silence the crowd once more. Slowly the chanting died off and they hung on his every word. The judge had won the tournament years ago and commanded a certain respect from the spectators, even though he hadn’t fought in years. The crusty Dinari had lightly colored scales, pale from being out of the sun. He held up a small copper device to his wrinkled throat and spoke, his voice amplified so that every Dinari would be able to hear for a kilometer in any direction.

  “It gives me, Kiln, famed fighter of the Dinari people, great pleasure to be the judge for this event.”

  Kiln smiled, his white pointed teeth glinting in the yellow sun. Liam could already tell he didn’t like the guy. In his opinion, anyone that self-absorbed needed a reality check.

  Kiln continued, “Every year our best fighters test their skills in the ring as we anxiously wait to see who comes out the victor. Our winner today will go on to compete in the final round with the winner of tomorrow’s Semi-Final match. You will of course have to wait for our fighters to recuperate before the final match takes place.”

  Several boos rang out from the restless crowd and Liam heard one voice shout, “Get on with it.”

  Kiln’s smile faded. He pressed the copper device forcefully against his throat and his voice rang out, “Your winner, Ju-Long Ma of Earth!”

  The Dinari people went wild for Ju-Long, who tried to make his way over to where Liam and Saturn were standing but was soon surrounded by a horde of eager young fans. The Dinari children clawed at him playfully trying to get Ju-Long to pose for holographic pictures. Despite his injuries, Liam’s bulky crewmate was hamming it up, having the time of his life. During one photo he winced and grabbed his stomach where one of the electrified barbs had struck. Thin streams of red flowed down onto his scaled shorts, staining them a deep vermilion shade.

  “Come on,” Liam said with a hand on Saturn’s shoulder. “Let him have his moment. He can meet us at The Sand’s Edge.”

  Saturn was fighting hard to suppress a giggle and ended up failing. Liam had to admit that the sight of Ju-Long with a throng of alien kids hanging off of him was an indescribable sight, so odd but yet so fitting at the same time. Saturn’s eyes were locked on the children.

  “They must have had children on Mars,” Liam mused.

  “I know, it’s just remarkable how similar they are to human children. Also, there were never so many. The colony had strict rules regarding population.”

  Liam turned his gaze back to Ju-Long, who had a Dinari kid hanging from his biceps while posing for another shot. He felt a smile creeping up his lip.

  After a moment, Saturn nodded and said, “Okay, we should go. Nix is waiting and if we don’t get back soon he’ll be too drunk to be useful.”

  3

  The Sand’s Edge Bar, Sector Seven, Garuda Colony

  A coarse breeze brought sand up into Liam’s eyes as he opened the simple wooden door to The Sand’s Edge. He rubbed at them with the back of his hand and entered the darkened room. It was lit only by a few orbs of glowing light which hung from the ceiling without any sign of string or wire. The bar was empty except for one Dinari who sat on a barstool swilling a short glass of brown liquid. When he noticed Liam he focused his golden eyes on his drink and downed it in one gulp.

  Nix had held a number of jobs on Garuda Colony, but his latest was acting as a guide for the humans. He’d proven himself resourceful on several occasions and more loyal than most of the freelancers Liam worked with at Vesta Corporation. The drinking was new, though. Ever since he’d thrown his lot in with Liam and his crew, life hadn’t exactly been easy for him. The Ansarans had made sure of that.

  Nix wore the brown cloak and tan drawstring pants common of Dinari in high-level service positions. His scales were the color of the sand outside and rough like he’d been working in the sun recently. When he looked up at Liam, his large eyes reflected the orb overhead, making them glimmer a more brilliant shade of gold.

  He motioned for Liam to sit beside him and reached over the bar for two more glasses. He clanked the grubby glasses down on the stone bar top and began to pour. Liam and Saturn sat on either side of the downtrodden Dinari. When the alien was done he passed a glass to each of them and took a small sip from his own, making an almost imperceptible wince as he did.

  “Drinking early I see,” Liam stated.

  “Where’s Ju-Long?” the Dinari asked.

  “Soaking in the glory of his win.”

  Nix stopped mid-sip and choked on his drink.

  “He won?” Nix gasped.

  “He performed well,” Saturn said before taking a sip of her drink and spitting it out across the bar. “What the hell is this stuff?”

  Nix gave her a questioning stare.

  “It’s a drink that’s common among my people. It’s called Thecla. It’s made from fermented Nerva plant.”

  Liam squinted at his glass skeptically. Finally, he took a sip and forced himself to swallow. The liquid burned on its way down his throat and he could feel it curving along his insides like fire all the way to his belly. Liam clenched his jaw and clanked his glass on the stone counter, letting out a huff of air.

  “Strong,” he wheezed.

  Nix patted him on the back and said after a sharp laugh, “That’s the way, friend.”

  Saturn nonchalantly pushed her almost full glass away and asked, “So Nix, what’s your lead?”

  The Dinari’s smile faded and his face became grave.

  “Nightstalkers.”

  “Nightstalkers,” Liam repeated. “You’ve mentioned them before. What are they?”

  “Only the most notorious Kraven vessels in existence. They are wicked fast and known throughout the system for their unique fighting tactics. Not much was seen of them after the War of a Thousand Years, but they pop up now and again, mostly in the drunken stories of merchants and traders.”

  “How does this relate to the wormhole device?” Saturn asked.

  Liam pricked his ears, the same question running through his own mind. If these Kraven ships were really what the stories said, finding the Azure Key might be made more difficult. The Dinari lowered his head toward the bar and swirled the dark liquid in his glass. Nix took another sip and swallowed hard before continuing.

  “All I know is that the stories are multiplying. Rumors are flying from here to Ansara, our Mother World. When Zega gets here, he’ll—”

  “He’ll tell you not to believe in ghost stories,” a thick voice said from the other side of the bar.

  Liam turned around on his stool and regarded the bar’s proprietor. Zega was a rather fat Dinari, whose scales always seemed to be bulging as though he were a snake, gorged on a large prey. His clothing was more detailed and ornate than the other Dinari he’d seen, with colored jewels embedded into the soft fabric. He was the overseer of Sector Seven, which gave him certain privileges with the Ansarans who ran the colony. Whether through those connections or his seedy side businesses, he’d amassed an untold amount of wealth. Wealth, that is, in the form of favors.

  “Zega, there you are,” Nix began. “What fool’s errand are you going to send us on this time?”

  Zega rubbed his plump neck as he waddled up to the bar. Every move he made turned Liam’s stomach. Simply watching Zega for a moment was enough to make him want to gag.

  “Am I sensing insolence from my favorite pupil?”

  “No,” Nix said apologetically. “It’s the drink.”

  “As suspected. I’ve called you all here because I’ve found a real lead.”

  Liam chided, “To be clear, this time we won’t end up making deliveries to your friends in the other sectors, right?”

  “I can see by your insolent tone that you’re going to be a bad influence on my Nix. This information was not easy to come by and cost the life of one of my informants. Do not take it lightly.”
<
br />   Liam opened his mouth to make a retort but thought better of it. Zega’s expression was too serious. Whatever he knew really was important. Which meant it was going to cost him and his crew dearly.

  “What favor do you ask?” Liam probed.

  “I don’t give you enough credit, Outsider, you do catch on quick. Given the extent of this mission, I will require a rather large favor.”

  “What do you want?” Saturn asked.

  “War is coming and I do not intend to be on the losing side again. The Dinari are restless, perhaps more so than the Kraven Throng. When the time comes, I would ask for your support, however things unfold.”

  Nix spun his glass on the bar top, intent on the dregs of his drink. His eyes drifted to Liam solemnly. “You do not know what he asks.”

  Liam cocked his head to the side and asked, “What do you mean?”

  “After the War of a Thousand Years any Dinari in power were quickly silenced. Most simply disappeared, but a few became examples of what to expect should another uprising occur. They were dark times, Liam. I was born after the worst of it, but what I saw as a child could not be forgotten even after sitting through reeducation classes in school. Anyone found to support the rebellion was slaughtered until only the meek and those wise enough to keep their mouths shut remained.”

  Liam’s eyes traveled to the fat Dinari, examining his face closely to ascertain his intentions. If there was another rebellion and it failed, Zega would likely be dead, so what use would he have for a supporter?

  Zega seemed to read his thoughts. “Things will be different this time. The Ansarans are afraid. They’ve spread themselves thin and let our numbers grow unchecked. We outnumber them now five to one.”

  “Let’s not forget who has all of the weapons,” Nix interjected.

  Zega bowed his head, seeming to grow tired of the direction the conversation was headed. “I’m not advocating a war, Nix. Have I taught you nothing? Whether we want it or not, something is coming, something is already in the works. The Dinari will be forced to come together or die. All I ask is that you do what’s right for the Dinari people.”