The Corsair Uprising Collection, Books 1-3

by Trevor Schmidt

  Liam had become accustomed to the fine grains lodging in his long and gnarled hair. It was an inescapable fact of living in the desert. No dust storms required.

  “I’m Liam Kidd. Zega’s instructed me—”

  “An outsider,” the Ansaran interrupted, his pale blue face contorting out of disgust.

  The Ansaran’s large black eyes were haunting, only showing bits of white at the edges when his gaze shifted to the side.

  “I take it you’re Vidu, then.”

  “I am Vidu of House Ansara and you will address me with the respect due to someone of my station.”

  Liam swung the leather bag off his shoulder and dropped it to the floor by his feet, the loud clunk silencing any further ramblings. The bag’s strap came undone when it hit the tile and several hexagonal pieces of a golden metal came tumbling out onto the floor. The center of each piece was pressed down with a picture of an unfamiliar Ansaran face.

  Vidu’s disgust faded and his mouth hung ajar.

  Liam commented, “Zega told me you’d know what this means.”

  Vidu collected himself and remarked, “Zega. He certainly has a way, doesn’t he?”

  “So we’re square?”

  The Ansaran motioned with his hand and one of his guards appeared at his side. Vidu pointed to the bag and his Ansaran lackey began picking up the hexagonal currency. When he’d gathered them all up, he picked up the bag with ease and slung it over his shoulder, awaiting further orders.

  “Ansaran Rooks might not mean much on Garuda, but on Ansara this much would buy a ship. Do you know what a ship costs?”

  “All too well,” Liam responded.

  Vidu nodded and said, “Very well. Tell Zega that as acting Head of Security on this colony, he’ll get no trouble from me if he can deliver what he’s promised.”

  Liam smiled. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

  Vidu moved closer, now mere steps away. His stature would have been imposing even without his menacing armor. He was easily half a head taller than Liam and his demeanor was anything but inviting, despite the peace offering. He said in a cutting tone, “If Toras discovers our plan, the deal is off.”

  “Discretion is our specialty.”

  Vidu opened his mouth and pointed his finger, but ultimately lowered his hand before he could come up with a clever retort. Instead, he simply said, “For an Outsider, you’re not as repulsive as I would have imagined.”

  “Well, I’d hate to offend,” Liam said curtly before turning and making for the exit, leaving Vidu speechless in his tall ivory tower.

  6

  The spire stood nearly a hundred meters apart from any other building. It was commonly said among the Ansarans that maintaining distance would demonstrate their superiority. Nix had heard a lot of things when he worked in the Caretaker’s tower. No one seemed to worry that he was listening. After all, he was a peasant to their eyes. A servant whose only purpose was to obey. Any idea to the contrary was clearly a delusion.

  Nix drew his goggles down over his eyes and adjusted the focus, zooming in on the spire’s entrance. Liam had been gone a while. Too long, in fact. Nix came out of the prone position and up to one knee. He seemed to be making a habit of finding his way onto rooftops. The sun was beating down overhead in its near midday arc and Nix found his tongue salivating more than usual. He collected his saliva and spat out a large glob on the clay roof. It took mere seconds for the spittle to evaporate.

  Nix pulled his goggles up and rested them on his sloped forehead. He looked along the street adjacent the spire. The road had a gradual curve in it allowing him to see the facades of most of the buildings nearby, though a few of the rooftops were out of his view. Instead of finding a higher vantage point, he’d opted for the clearest line of sight to the spire’s entrance. Now he’d begun to regret that decision. He was one glint of the sun away from being spotted.

  To his left, Nix heard a door slam shut. He leaned over the edge of the rooftop to get a better look. It was a single Dinari, wrapped up in tightly-woven white clothes that were stained with specs of red and black, the soft fibers absorbing the droplets with ease. Nix instinctively covered his mouth with his palm. That Dinari had no business being up and about. Even though he was twenty meters away, Nix could see he was sick with something terrible. But, it wasn’t just any sickness. It was the sickness. The Dinari Phage Sickness.

  Nix hadn’t seen a case of it since he was a child. It was rumored that the Ansarans had been using it to control the Dinari population, as it had no effect on the Ansarans at all. Nix didn’t know if that was true or not, but he’d always accepted it out of spite, if for no other reason. The Dinari began meandering in the direction of the spire as though lost in a daze.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Nix saw the spire’s main double doors burst open and a figure appear out of the darkness within. The Dinari lowered his goggles and adjusted the zoom. It was Liam. This time without the bag. Whatever he’d come to do, it was done. Liam stopped at the top of the stairs and exchanged words with the Ansaran guard.

  Nix zoomed out and tried to locate the sick Dinari, but he was gone. He drew up his goggles and spotted the sickly man sprinting toward the spire at a rate that seemed implausible given his condition. He was gunning straight for Liam.

  “Shit,” Nix cursed.

  He scrambled to his feet and raced to his hover bike. He’d never be able to make the distance in time. He’d have to take a more extreme measure. Nix reached over the top of his seat and retrieved an Ansaran laser rifle mounted on the other side. His own Dinari energy weapon would be too inaccurate at such a distance.

  Nix ran back to the edge of the rooftop and knelt down. Using his goggles as a scope, he breathed out and fired a single blast. He caught the sickly Dinari in his shoulder but the blast hardly slowed him down. He seemed to be rabid, unable to notice he was in pain.

  He could see Liam and the Ansaran guard take notice and draw their weapons. The sick Dinari was closing in, only ten meters away. Nix fired another shot and the crimson laser found its way through the Dinari’s back, coming out through his chest and absorbing into the sand mere centimeters from Liam’s feet. The sick Dinari stumbled, blood spewing out his mouth as he gasped for air. But his feet kept stumbling forward.

  The sick Dinari fell at Liam’s feet face down, close enough to reach out and touch. The Ansaran guard kicked the man over onto his back with his sand-colored boots. Blood pooled at the Dinari’s mouth and dripped down his cheeks on either side, finding its way down into the sand and mixing with the dust to create a cruel sort of mud.

  Liam put his hand up above his eyes to shield the sun, scanning the rooftops for the source of the laser. Nix ducked down and hugged the rifle to his chest. He waited a moment before cautioning another look over the roof’s edge.

  The Dinari was still alive, his chest rising and falling in quick succession. Liam knelt down beside him and gripped the white bandages that swathed the Dinari’s diseased body. Liam was asking him something, but Nix’s translation chip wasn’t able to read his lips given the angle. He felt his blood pressure rise, his heart pounding and reverberating throughout his body. There was no way to know if a human could catch the Phage Sickness, but it wasn’t a fate he’d wish on anyone. The survival rate was abysmal and the pain excruciating to see firsthand.

  Nix cried out as loud as he could but his voice was negated by the building breeze. All he could do was watch as the Dinari coughed out his final breath, spouting droplets of blood up into Liam’s face and eyes.

  “No!” Nix screamed, tears welling up at the corners of his eyes. He dropped his laser rifle and collapsed onto his stomach. Nix made a fist and slammed the clay rooftop, creating an imprint with several cracks crawling out from the center.

  He rolled onto his side and looked up at the harsh orange sun, feeling his vision blur. His large golden eyes were glazed with a layer of tears he couldn’t control. He couldn’t stop it. He could have taken the kill shot right away a
nd prevented it, but he didn’t. It was his fault. He was weak.

  Nix heard the engine of a hover bike and his mind snapped back to the moment. He edged over to the rim of the roof, looking over the side. It was only for a second, but he saw him. Nix took in every nuance of the rider clad in blue. His armor was made to emulate hardened scales and was dyed a deep shade of azure. The short man’s helmet was oblong, coming down flat in the front and jutting out at the back with a black visor that reminded him of the helmets of the Ansaran guard. Every space not covered by armor was clothed in a black material. It was clear the rider was muscular, though still very lean.

  Nix had no doubt that the rider was involved with the sick Dinari. It could have been an assassination attempt. He worried his fears were coming true and Liam had stepped over some sort of line. But whose? When he’d told Saturn that Liam was going to get himself killed, he never expected something like this.

  •

  Liam’s vision blurred as he wiped the blood from his eyes. His heartbeat hastened, fingers going numb. He tried to focus on the source of the laser blast. There in the street a hundred meters away was a figure clad in blue armor. He squinted, trying to make out every detail, but his mind was fading quick. A sudden pain sprung up behind his eyes. Liam used his fingers to wipe at them to no effect. He wanted to scratch them out if it would make it stop. His eyes sought out the Garuda sun and he stared into the light, praying that the agony would stop.

  7

  “No more questions,” Ju-Long said gruffly, waiving off Saturn’s advances.

  Saturn leaned against the clay wall across from Astrid and Ju-Long, one brown combat boot planted against the cracked and dry façade. She crossed her arms and scolded her crew member.

  “This was part of the deal, Ju-Long. Her usefulness to this crew is based on what she knows. We’re not protecting her so she can be your plaything.”

  Ju-Long scrambled to his feet, furious, and struck Saturn across the face. She stumbled back a couple of steps, dazed.

  “It’s okay,” Astrid said gently, pulling Ju-Long back. Her blue and green eyes glowed faintly in the dimly lit room. She placed a soft scaled hand on Ju-Long’s face and turned his chin toward her, his eyes following and connecting with hers. “Some people just don’t have any tact. I’ll answer her questions if I know the answers.”

  Ju-Long nodded, his eyes absorbed in Astrid’s vertical pupils, large in the half-light and in steep contrast to the slender glow behind their colored edges. His demeanor calmed at her graceful touch.

  Saturn wiped her lip and shook off the blow. She asked, “You said that the Azure Key wasn’t the only device made by Vesta Corporation. What other devices exist?”

  “I’ve heard rumors of two other objects with strange properties. One was in the shape of a sphere, the other a pyramid, each similar to the Azure Key.”

  “What do they do?”

  Astrid hung her head and said with disappointment, “That’s where the stories differ. Some say The Three were prototypes for the Azure Key but that they created something else entirely. Instead of creating a bridge from one part of space to another, one of them ripped a hole in space that was irreparable. Others suggest an alternate reality or dimension, a world existing in the empty space between atoms all around us. Many think they’re weapons, with powers unfathomable to us.”

  “Vesta Corporation wouldn’t have the technology to do any of those things. It’s only a result of Ju-Long’s work that they were even able to create the Azure Key.”

  “Don’t remind me,” Ju-Long huffed.

  Astrid continued, “There are stories, myths really, that I was told as a child. Have you ever heard of the Corsairs?”

  Saturn exchanged looks with Ju-Long, who shifted uncomfortably where he stood. Their ship, The Garuda, was one of the long-lost Corsair-Class ships stolen from legend. However, Nix had made it a point not to tell Astrid until they were sure they could trust her. That time had not yet come. Saturn offered her a non-committal shrug in response.

  “The Corsairs were fearsome ships developed by the Dinari during the War of a Thousand Years. Almost a hundred if the accounts are accurate. Each held the caged soul of the most feared creatures in existence. There was a great battle over Ansara and they were all lost.”

  “What’s your point?” Saturn asked.

  “Lost. Not destroyed. As a child I was interested why the tales always said they were lost and not destroyed. Surely the Ansaran fleet defeated them all. There was no mention of how the battle ended, so I asked an elder on Taleris. He admitted that no one knows what happened to them, but that he imagines a few may still be out there. So what happened to the rest of their ships?”

  Saturn shrugged and said, “Bad record-keeping?”

  Ju-Long spoke up, “Are you sure that’s how it went?”

  Saturn shot a cautioning glare his way.

  “I was at The Sand’s Edge having a drink with some Dinari friends and they said the Ansarans destroyed all of the Corsairs.”

  Astrid shook her head. She seemed genuinely distressed, crossing her arms uncomfortably and averting her eyes from Ju-Long.

  “The histories are different depending on who you talk to. Some say there were a hundred ships, some fifty. Some say they were destroyed, some say they’re only in hiding, waiting for an opportunity to strike. I’ll be the first to admit my race’s tactics aren’t delicate when it comes to recording the past.”

  Ju-Long asked her, “Are you suggesting the Ansarans spread tales of the Corsairs’ demise to crush the Dinari’s spirit?”

  “As I said, not exactly delicate. From what I could gather, my people don’t know what happened any more than the Dinari. It was a hundred years ago, so who’s to say?”

  “How does this relate to Vesta Corporation?”

  Astrid smiled and asked, “What is a wormhole?”

  “A bridge across space,” Ju-Long responded.

  “Or time,” Astrid interjected.

  “You can’t be serious,” Saturn argued.

  “Well,” Ju-Long hedged, “In theory, but after what I’ve seen it doesn’t actually seem that far-fetched.”

  Astrid said, “It’s just a thought, but what if one of the other devices played a part in their disappearance? It could have destroyed them or sent them somewhere else entirely.”

  “I don’t want to think about it,” Saturn said, uncrossing her arms and pushing off from the wall. “I’m tired of speculation. What do you know?”

  Astrid was growing visibly frustrated and shot back in a chilly tone, “However or whenever the devices came into existence doesn’t matter. I don’t know why Vesta Corporation made them or who they were intended for, but I do know that the Ansaran High Council intends to use them. They will colonize more worlds and crush the Kraven or the Dinari if they try to interfere.”

  “They don’t have the numbers,” Saturn remarked. “How do they intend to colonize anything when they’ve messed with their genome so much they can hardly manufacture a female?”

  Astrid’s mouth hung open, hurt by Saturn’s words. Her eyes began to glow as though the shining light behind her eyes was some kind of defense mechanism.

  “No offense,” Saturn added, much too late.

  Saturn had nearly forgotten that Astrid had been grown in a lab like some kind of experiment. Though she didn’t have any experience with other Ansaran females, she seemed like any other walking, talking, breathing person. It sounded strange to Saturn to think of Astrid in such a way, no matter what she thought of her as a crew member.

  “War has devastated the population of this system. Countless billions have died as a result of the War of a Thousand Years. But do not count us out so easily. There are facilities like the one on Narra whose sole purpose is the propagation of my species.”

  “Breeding programs?”

  “One could say that. The Ansarans will not perish even if we have to fight another thousand-year war. If the Ansarans are the only species that remain, t
he High Council is prepared to go to great lengths to ensure our survival.”

  “What kind of lengths are you talking about?” Ju-Long asked.

  “During the long war, researchers at the facility on Narra created a super virus that only affected the Dinari anatomy. They also made a cure. Its release shortened the war by decades, but at great cost. Too many died. More than anticipated. A deal was eventually struck in which the leaders of the Dinari resistance agreed to cease war efforts in exchange for the cure. It was this deal that secured their subservience to my people. Mere mention of the Dinari Phage Sickness became taboo. It reminded the Dinari that it could be redeployed at any time. That fear led them to accept the reeducation process more readily. Those who dissented were made examples of.”

  “How do you know all of this?”

  “Some of it is common knowledge among my people. We were taught that our mastery of the genetic code of this system’s species won the war. I learned the rest at the facility on Narra. After it was evacuated I was searching through records for hints of my birth and anything else I could find related to the facility. I stumbled upon more than I bargained for.”

  Ju-Long paced the small room and spoke almost to himself, “If the Dinari rise up again, the Ansarans will decimate them with this virus. It’s the perfect weapon.”

  “I don’t know how much of the virus remains. I destroyed what I could at the facility on Narra. But, I doubt the Ansarans would use it again so readily. Last time there were…unforeseen consequences. The Ansarans need the Dinari more than they realize. The Dinari provide most of the labor in this system. Without them we’d likely starve.”

  A raspy voice said from the open door, “You’d be wise not to forget it.”