The Corsair Uprising Collection, Books 1-3

by Trevor Schmidt

  “Finish my fight,” Ju-Long said eagerly.

  “Help my people,” Nix mused soberly.

  Saturn looked at Liam glowingly and simply nodded.

  “I’m asking all of us, myself included, to put aside our frustrations and do what’s necessary. Nothing more or less,” Liam said to the crew.

  Ju-Long nodded and said, “As long as they hold the fight.”

  “It’s Zega we’re talking about. He isn’t going to let one of his fighters miss a bout. He’s owed favors from just about everyone in the colony.”

  “You’re right,” Ju-Long said. “Let’s get this ship off the ground, we’ve got a long way to go.”

  Nix led the way down the corridor, stumbling into the cockpit and falling into his seat toward the rear on the right side. Liam took the helm with Saturn by his side in the co-pilot’s chair, examining the many copper switches and contrasting holographic displays. The cockpit had four seats made from the leather of a local mammal, but cracked after countless years of neglect. Saturn brought up a map of the colony and prepared to play the role of navigator.

  Liam touched a control on the console and the hangar door opened in front of them, several dusty chains dangling from the sides and making tracks in the sand as the sheet of metal slid toward the ceiling. Liam slipped his arm through a copper loop and grabbed the handle on the other side, the circle closing around his forearm. He lifted up slightly and felt the ship rise a couple of meters in the air.

  Ju-Long, who was usually last to strap in, was already buckled and tightening every strap for the second time, just to make sure. When Liam noticed, Ju-Long said, “Hey, I remember the last time you drove. You know what they say, fool me twice.”

  “That’s not what they say,” Saturn said under her breath.

  Liam ignored them and forced the accelerator forward with his left hand. The Garuda shot through the opening and immediately Liam brought up his right arm and maneuvered the ship into the yellow sky.

  6

  Liam flipped a copper switch and The Garuda’s wings spread out wide, their metal frames holding seemingly organic elements which flowed with purple energy along the struts. He wove the ship in and out of the many massive spires as they climbed up past the tip of the tallest tower. Warning lights flashed on his console and a holographic image projected itself up before cockpit’s front window. Despite the orange hue of the image, the alien projected clearly had soft blue scales that could almost be construed as white, with an angular face and elongated pointed ears pinned back along his head. His solid black eyes bore the same orb-like shape as the Dinari, but were far colder.

  “Toras,” Liam said scathingly.

  “I see you haven’t filed a course trajectory. I’m curious where exactly you intend to go with that interesting ship of yours.”

  Toras was the current Caretaker of Garuda Colony and former head of security, hailing from a lower Ansaran House called Zumora. Despite his promise that Liam and his crew could come and go as they please, there seemed to be an increasing number of caveats. The last couple of times they flew The Garuda, Liam felt as though they were being followed. He wouldn’t have put it past Toras to send his men to tail them.

  “My apologies, Caretaker. I’m sending the coordinates now.”

  Liam cut the feed and pressed a few buttons on his touchscreen.

  “What are you sending him?” Saturn asked.

  “Toras should be receiving a message with our flight plan to the planet Taleris.”

  “What’s there?”

  Nix spoke up first, his eyes closed and his head tilted back in his chair. He garbled, “Shipyards mainly. They haven’t been in use since the war. We can mask our signature when we leave the atmosphere and change trajectory.”

  Liam pulled back on the controls and lifted the ship into a steeper ascent, flipping a switch and folding the wings back to reduce drag. Warning lights flashed again and an image of Toras appeared in front of Liam once again. The Ansaran did not look pleased.

  “We both know there is nothing on Taleris. What are you up to Kidd?”

  “A simple supply run. The Dinari on Taleris sent a request for more Nerva plant. We can’t keep our customers waiting.”

  “A long way to go for such a petty mission. Perhaps you’re losing your touch.”

  “Toras,” Liam began in a heartfelt tone. “I assure you, we’re traders, nothing more.”

  “Prepare for an inspection upon return, Outsider.”

  Toras’ hologram dissipated and Liam was left looking at a sky that was quickly turning from yellow to black as they approached the outer atmosphere. The ship shook slightly from the ascent but the minor quaking hardly rattled Liam. It was nothing compared to their first foray through that atmosphere. It took only moments for them to break through into outer space.

  “Saturn, check for signs of other ships.”

  After checking her panel a moment she responded, “None. Either Toras took us at our word or his spies have evaded our sensors.”

  “Let’s not take any chances. Ju-Long, work on masking our signature. I’m setting a course for Taleris along with a scheduled course change toward Narra at one million kilometers.”

  With the course set, Liam released his grip on the control handle and the copper ring expanded around his arm. He let his forearm float out of the circle and leaned back against his cracked chair. He pressed a hard lever to his right and the gravity generator came online, his feet hitting the floor along with his insides.

  “That should do it,” Liam declared. “Estimated time of arrival, three weeks.”

  “Would you stop saying that?” Ju-Long said. “What am I going to do for three weeks?”

  Nix unbuckled his straps and stood up, stretching his back and gesturing at Ju-Long. “Let’s start with getting you fixed up. I’ll cook up some Leguma and you can tell me more about this Starlight drink.”

  Ju-Long perked up at the sound of his new favorite dish. Made primarily from boiled Nerva plant, Leguma had certain healing properties. Ju-Long was making a regular habit of having a bowl and spreading the boiled purple plant on his wounds. Liam was beginning to think his crewmate was becoming even more reckless now that he knew minor wounds weren’t much of a concern. It seemed like every mission they went on, no matter how small, Ju-Long ended up injured in some way. It had become something of a running joke.

  Ju-Long followed Nix back toward the kitchen and Liam and Saturn were left alone in the cockpit. Saturn was busy examining their route on her screen, the computer’s faint glow reflecting off her caramel skin. Liam unbuckled from his chair and put his hands behind his head, watching the stars slowly drift by.

  “Thank you,” Liam said while continuing to stare out the window.

  “For what?”

  Liam turned his head toward her and smiled. Her coarse white tank top turned orange from the light of the hologram. The shade complemented her skin. After a moment of silence she turned toward him questioningly.

  Liam blinked and said, “For having my back. I know we don’t always see eye to eye.”

  “It’s nothing,” she said, smiling when she thought Liam wouldn’t notice.

  A few minutes passed in silence until Liam finally worked up the courage to ask her what he’d been meaning to ask for quite a while.

  “You never did tell me what happened; how you ended up on the mine, but when you got there I could tell something had changed.”

  Saturn opened her mouth but no sound escaped. Her expression grew irritated and she finally replied, “I thought I said I didn’t want to talk about it. I’ll tell you when I’m ready.”

  Liam lowered his hands from his head and regarded her. Saturn’s arms were crossed now, hugging herself tightly while gazing out the window to her left. With her arms still crossed she unbuckled her straps and was out of her seat faster than Liam had thought possible. She disappeared out the cockpit and down the curving corridor to the cargo bay. He thought he saw her silhouette wiping her face
in the low light of the passage.

  Now he’d done it. Just when things were starting to turn around he had to go and ruin it. Liam kicked the panel next to his boot and the vibration carried up his leg. He winced in pain and cursed aloud. The flow of purple energy overhead quickened and the console flickered with a dozen colored lights.

  “Sorry,” Liam apologized.

  •

  Liam had never had occasion to use the sleeping quarters on The Garuda. There were four rooms off to the port side of the cargo bay lined up in a row, each only large enough for thick sleeping pad. They would have to share the single bathroom at the end of the corridor. Liam was beginning to see why Nix liked short trips.

  Liam removed his palm from the door’s control panel. Text scrolled across the screen in the Dinari language, which was quickly translated in Liam’s mind by his implanted translator. His handprint had just been stored as the resident for that room. A door to his left opened and Saturn stepped out from her quarters and into the hall. She’d changed into a loose-fitting white garment that trailed down to her knees, her bare feet digging into the grated metal floor. She stopped and regarded Liam momentarily before clenching her jaw and taking off toward the bathroom.

  His outstretched hand fell down to his leg and he entered his small room. All he could hope was that things wouldn’t be awkward with her going forward. In the past she tended to be the type to ignore awkward situations, pretending they didn’t exist.

  Inside his quarters there was only a couple of meters between the door and the sleeping pad, which was made from a thick fabric with the stuffing coming out in places. From what he could tell the bed was filled with straw or some other rough material and it lay directly on the ground without support. Apart from the sleeping pad there was a mirror above a small ledge sticking out a few centimeters from the wall.

  Liam put his hands on the ledge and regarded his reflection. His thick jaw was covered with the shadow of a day or two’s growth of dark blond facial hair. Liam’s lengthy blond hair was getting too long in his opinion. The last time he’d had it cut was on the mine and that had been months ago. His blue eyes turned toward his bed.

  He plopped down on the cobbled-together mattress and stared at the ceiling. There was a single orb of light hanging there, which blocked his view of the purple lines of energy flowing overhead. He kept running over his brief conversation with Saturn in his head, trying to think if he could have come at it from a better angle. Soon, his thoughts drifted to the energy flowing overhead. What was it? Where did it come from? Trailing thoughts of the alien technology carried him into a deep sleep.

  7

  Planet Garuda – The Caretaker’s Chambers

  Toras flipped his tattered cape out of his way and stepped around his large stone desk to examine the man standing before him. He was a whole head shorter than Toras and wore a deep shade of blue that clung tightly to his entire body, the rough material giving the appearance of hardened scales that accentuated his toned frame. His face was obscured by a matching oblong helmet which ensured no skin on his body was visible. The black visor reflected Toras’ own eyes back at him. At his side hung an Ansaran laser pistol.

  Toras didn’t like working with this sort of ilk, but sending his own men would be too obvious. The small man came with a reputation for discretion that was unparalleled in the system. Toras needed the best. He’d seen what that Kidd’s ship could do in battle and he couldn’t let him out of his sight.

  “I want them followed,” Toras instructed. “Keep your distance. Don’t interfere with their mission unless you have to. Do what it is you do. Report your findings solely to me.”

  The small man was silent, standing there before him with his hands calmly held behind his back. Toras wondered if he’d understood him. He let the silence continue a moment longer, and then said, “You came highly recommended, but I was never told your name.”

  The man shook his head in response.

  Toras retrieved a small device from his pocket and pressed his thumb down on top. A projection came to life several centimeters above his outstretched palm and a spinning image showing several sets of numbers was displayed in orange light.

  “Your fee is steep, two million Anasaran Rooks. You know on Ansara you could buy a ship for that. I hope my colleagues were not mistaken in endorsing you.”

  The small man pressed a finger on the metallic device in Toras’ hand and the numbers subtracted to zero, transferring out of the account. Toras closed his fingers over the device and the image disappeared, his hand falling to his side.

  The mercenary turned on his heel and stepped silently toward the door. On his back was a small gray cape that had been torn to shreds, a gleaming blade partially hidden beneath.

  Toras called after him and the small man stopped.

  “If it costs this much to follow a man, what do you charge to kill?”

  The man’s head turned and Toras felt eyes watching him from behind the blacked out visor. The small man replied in a distorted and metallic voice, “Killing is on me.”

  With that he exited the chamber and Toras was left standing dumbfounded, one hand resting on his cold stone desk. The Caretaker raised up his other hand and looked at the small device in his palm. This was why he didn’t like working with bounty hunters, or mercenaries, or any of them. He never trusted a man he had to pay up front. Even less so when he didn’t know their name.

  8

  Eight Days Later

  The cockpit was abuzz with warning lights, flashing yellow and red, dancing along the walls and reflecting off the windows. Liam snapped awake from his nap and wiped caked drool from the corner of his mouth. In a daze, he examined his computer screen and scrolled through the foreign text.

  “No, no, no,” Liam said quickly before jumping from his seat and tearing down the corridor.

  Liam stopped when he reached the kitchen. The rest of the crew was sitting around the lone metal table eating compact orange buns Nix had made the day before from a grain native to the planet Garuda. The table and its stools were bolted to the floor and against the wall toward the front of the ship was a series of built-in steel cabinets and drawers where their food was stored. Saturn and Ju-Long looked up at him from across the table questioningly.

  Nix turned his head and was half out of his seat. He asked anxiously, “What is it?”

  “We have a problem.”

  Nix abandoned his bun and replied, “Lead the way.”

  Liam led the crew back to the cockpit, where lights still flashed vigorously, making it difficult to see out the angular windows. The windows took up most of the front wall but narrowed down to slits less than a meter wide and offset by steel struts along the sides. The center console ran the length of the window, control panels lining the sides of the room all the way to the back. The two leather seats behind the pilots each had a workstation that extended out from the side hull.

  Nix sat down in the pilot’s seat and examined the readouts. His golden eyes grew wide and he turned to regard Liam and the rest of the crew. He told them, “I knew they were not ghost stories.”

  “Nightstalkers?” Saturn asked.

  “A telltale sign, yes. We’ve received a signal from a distress beacon. It’s a small Ansaran merchant ship. The damage to it looks extensive.”

  Ju-Long clutched the back of the pilot’s chair with both of his bruised hands. His wounds had begun to heal nicely with regular treatments with Nerva plant, but the remnants still remained. One thing the plant couldn’t do was prevent scarring. Ju-Long bore several pink lines along his chest and arms shaped like the electrified knuckles of the tournament. Though he’d been spending a lot of time without his shirt so he could continue his treatments, he wore a loose-fitting brown shirt akin to Liam’s garment and brown pants of a rough material made by the same tailor. Ju-Long leaned over the chair and examined the console. He asked, “How far away is it?”

  “It would take us several hours out of our way,” Nix replied.
/>   “Shit,” Ju-Long cursed. “Looks like they’re on their own.”

  Liam crossed his arms and regarded his aloof crewmate. It was clear despite his speech a week earlier that Ju-Long only had one thing on his mind. Liam said, “Who said we’re not going to help?”

  Before Ju-Long could make his case, Nix spoke up.

  “If I may. I think we should investigate. If there are survivors they may have seen a Kraven Nightstalker. We may not get this opportunity to know our enemy again.”

  “And we might be able to help them, right?” Saturn asked Nix.

  Nix gazed at Saturn for a moment with a blank stare and then finally nodded and sighed, “Right, that too.”

  Nix’s reluctant agreement struck home with Liam. It was more apparent all the time just how much he loathed the Ansarans. If Liam were in his position, he might have felt the same way. Liam had made his decision, though. “Sorry, Ju-Long, but Nix is right. We may not get this opportunity again and the information we could glean from the attack might prove useful.”

  Ju-Long cursed in Chinese and left the cockpit. Nix stood and moved to follow him but Liam put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

  “Let him go, Nix. He just needs a minute to cool down.”

  “He needs to understand.”

  Saturn cocked her head to the side and asked, “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t care what Zega says, the Nightstalkers are a real threat. If we have a chance to find information on them besides rumors, it will be a first for my people. Everything up until now has been unsubstantiated stories from merchants and mercenaries. If we get proof, it could change Zega’s tune.”

  “Why is it so important that Zega believes in these Nightstalkers.”

  “They are the vanguard of the Kraven Throng. The stories are growing in number and now this? The Kraven are moving while the Ansarans and Dinari do nothing. Our people have their heads in the sand and if we don’t do something about it soon I fear we’ll be too late. Their recent attack on Garuda was no fluke. The Kraven are back and strong.”