The Corsair Uprising Collection, Books 1-3

by Trevor Schmidt

  Saturn stood back upright and asked him, “What are you staring at?”

  They were in a massive cargo area that housed Saturn’s Hercules-Class freighter as well as two much smaller military vessels with room to spare. Robotic arms were hard at work repairing one of the Terran Interceptors, sleek ships meant for pursuit not only in space but planet-side as well. The bay was mostly devoid of people. Mostly, except for the three soldiers standing before them with weapons drawn, aimed at their chests.

  14

  2146 A.D. - The Sand’s Edge Bar, Garuda Colony, Planet Garuda

  “I don’t know if I ever apologized for the ladder.”

  Saturn held back a laugh. “It doesn’t matter now, does it?”

  “Still,” Liam said through a particularly bloody cough. “Go on, some of it’s starting to come back to me.”

  Saturn gazed through the plastic sheet and out the open window. All she could make out was the muffled yellowed sky beginning to turn a deep orange. The wind had started to pick up and even more particles were making their way through the opening.

  “The soldiers caught us by surprise, but I should have known we were making too much noise in the shaft.”

  •

  2142 A.D. – Terran Military Vessel Dauntless

  Saturn raised her hands up defensively, ready to turn her flat palms into fists if the opportunity arose. Liam swayed and tried to brace himself against the nearest wall, misjudging the distance and crashing his shoulder into the metal bulkhead. One of the soldiers steadied Liam and brought him upright, throwing Liam’s arm around his shoulder for support.

  The tallest of the soldiers approached Saturn. He was a rather rough looking man with several facial scars that appeared to have been caused by an unfortunate run-in with countless bits of shrapnel. When he spoke, his voice was augmented with an implant, making his speech as robotic as his impeccable posture. Saturn noticed that he bore a thick vertical scar down the center of his throat. Bulging up from under his medium brown skin was what looked like an artificial voice box.

  “We don’t have much time,” the soldier said, grabbing Saturn by her forearm and unceremoniously shoving her out into the cargo bay. “Proceed to Checkpoint Delta. Even with this setback, Vesta expects their product delivered on time.”

  The soldier’s pockmarked skin contorted with his deep grimace. Saturn knew Vesta Corporation had a grip on select members of the Terran Military, but just how far did their influence reach? Apart from the Lieutenant, everyone seemed to be in on the ruse.

  Saturn nodded to the gruff soldier and took off toward her ship. The soldiers followed her closely. The one who’d caught Liam threw him over his shoulder to save time, despite her crewmate’s laughable protests. When they were close to her freighter’s loading ramp, she stopped and turned on the leader.

  “Why are you helping us? What is Vesta giving you?”

  “You know the rules. We don’t discuss our terms.”

  “Come on,” Saturn jibed. “No one abides.”

  The tall soldier’s hazel eyes avoided making contact with hers. They had a coldness about them that spoke to a lifetime of poor living and hostile situations. He looked to his counterparts as if to judge their integrity. Like Saturn, the soldier didn’t seem to have much love for Vesta.

  “Takara,” the soldier finally said, his voice a grating metallic mess. “In order to get my brother out of Vesta’s clutches, I had to make a deal. My position here intrigued them.”

  The soldier carrying Liam plopped him back down on his feet. Liam wavered as though resisting a strong breeze. Saturn put a hand on his shoulder to steady him and returned her calculating gaze to the leader.

  Her eyes fell to the faded white lettering on his chest plate. It read ‘Hayes.’ The Terran Military ranks were never her strong suit, but judging by the number of strokes on his shoulder she assumed he’d been around a while.

  “Sergeant Hayes, then?”

  He nodded cautiously.

  Saturn extended her hand and replied, “Saturn Vera, and my incapacitated friend here is Liam Kidd.”

  Sergeant Hayes took her hand and shook it firmly. “Maybe next time we’ll meet under better circumstances.”

  The Sergeant held onto her hand a second more than was comfortable, looking her up and down hungrily, and Saturn felt her insides fill with ice. Perhaps he’d been avoiding her gaze for a reason. He was animalistic and devoid of higher thought. She took her hand back and stood stunned. He’d changed in an instant. Her mother had warned her about men like Hayes. She gripped Liam’s arm and led him up the ramp, trying to put the mangled Sergeant out of her mind.

  Sergeant Hayes called to her, “What is such a pretty girl doing helping Vesta Corporation? Don’t you know how it’ll end? How it always ends?”

  Saturn stopped midway up the ramp and looked back at the smug Sergeant. She mustered up every bit of derision she could and shot back, “Everyone has their role. Some are more important than others. Mine happens to line my pockets.”

  The soldier’s smile faded and his grim demeanor returned once again. He slapped the chest of the soldier to his right and ordered, “What are you gawking at? Secure the perimeter. Lock down the entrances and get to the safe room so we can open the bay doors.”

  Both of Sergeant Hayes’ subordinates carried out his orders without question. He shot Saturn one last jarring look before slinging his pulse rifle over his shoulder and ambling off toward the control room.

  Saturn continued up the ramp, telling the computer to close the doors once she and Liam had reached the top. The computer responded instantly to her voice command. The freighter was boxy, essentially one large space for cargo with a cockpit at the front. Because of Vesta’s delivery, the bay was packed with crates strapped diligently to the grated floors and the many holds on the walls and ceiling. The center aisle was barely more than a meter wide, but it seemed tighter with the boxes stacked up over her head.

  Liam leaned on her all the way to the cockpit, finally collapsing into the co-pilot’s chair. Saturn strapped him in like a child before taking her seat and flipping the numerous switches in the engine ignition sequence. Through the cockpit’s curved window, she saw a large red light flashing and spinning in a blinding display. When it turned yellow the cargo bay began to depressurize. Every crate and ship in the bay was strapped down or fixed magnetically to the floor.

  When the sequence was complete the bay doors began to creak open. Saturn’s console jumped to life and Sergeant Hayes’ image appeared before her.

  “You’ll get no trouble from our end. In the future, however, I’d be careful.”

  “Always am,” Saturn said, cutting the transmission.

  The light turned from yellow to green and Saturn fired the air jets to lift the ship up, quickly burning the thrusters to get them through the bay doors and into open space. She retracted the landing gear and set a course for Checkpoint Delta, a storage facility on the far side of Mars, well away from the populated region.

  With the course set, she examined the sensor readout, checking for signs of pursuit. The Dauntless was suffering from massive power fluctuations. The readings on her console were all over the place. Finally, they cut out entirely and the ship went dark.

  Saturn’s lips crept up into a smile. Whatever she had to say about Vesta Corporation, they certainly had an interesting way of dealing with people. She was just glad she was on their good side, for now at least. Saturn increased the power to the twin engines and her freighter accelerated to peak output. If she could get enough of a head start, The Dauntless wouldn’t be able to catch them before they arrived at the checkpoint.

  Liam groaned and clutched his stomach.

  “You better not puke again or so help me—”

  His stomach growled audibly and Saturn let out a laugh.

  “Hey, hunger isn’t funny,” Liam moaned. “I think I’m dying.”

  “There’s a pack of protein supplements under your seat. We still have almos
t a week until we get there so once they’re gone, they’re gone. Got it?”

  Liam rummaged under his seat and found the individually packaged bars. They bore a small V in the corner of the packaging that Saturn hadn’t noticed before, but that hardly surprised her. Of course Vesta Corporation would make food products. What didn’t they make?

  Saturn turned the controls over to the computer and leaned back in her uncomfortable seat, the pads valuing function over human decency. The red planet had grown from a tiny speck off in the distance to a fairly large speck with visible crimson coloring, setting it apart from the other objects out there among the stars. She felt her blood pressure drop and her breathing slow, falling into a relaxed state. Saturn never felt better than when she was going home.

  15

  2146 A.D. – The Sand’s Edge Bar, Garuda Colony, Planet Garuda

  Saturn hugged her legs and rested her cheek on top of her knees. She stared through the cloudy plastic sheet at the splayed out Liam Kidd, every bit as broken as he’d been on that first mission. She could barely make out his glistening skin peeking out the side of the Dinari Death Shroud that shielded his face. The molten sun had found the perfect angle through the open window to beat down on Liam. He rested silently there, seemingly unaware of her presence, his chest still and body catatonic.

  The door handle jangled and Saturn instinctively turned toward the sound. The door squeaked open just enough for Nix’s head to fit through, his face obscured by a breathing apparatus. He beckoned with a muffled voice, “Come with me.”

  Saturn took one more look at Liam’s still body. Whatever had taken him, she was powerless to help. He needed to rest. She nodded and used the wall to help herself to her feet. Nix seemed to be making a habit of bearing bad news, and even through his mask she could tell she wasn’t going to like what he had to say. His eyes held a sadness about them that permeated the glass eyelets which cut into the leather guise.

  She brushed past him into the hallway and Nix shut the door behind her. Once clear, he took off his mask and told her, “Something’s come up. Zega’s downstairs now. He wants to talk.”

  Taking his lead, Saturn removed her mask as well. “Good, I have a few questions of my own.”

  Saturn took off down the hallway toward the winding staircase, a feeling other than sadness or anger bubbling up within. It was a feeling that held a singular place inside her that pulled and cut at the center of her chest. She’d felt this way every time she laid eyes on that gutless swine. If it was this bad just with anticipation, it was going to get a lot worse soon. Zega’s putrid stench would soon have her clamoring to peel back her own skin to rid herself of the crawling pests within, as any conversation with that wretch made her insides writhe.

  •

  Liam’s Toronto apartment smelled of dust and blood. The floor was spattered in red, trailing to her lifeless body. Her forehead bore the distinctive crispy tunnel of a standard issue Vesta Corporation laser. Her fine red hair was splayed out in all directions, impossible to forget. Liam’s gaze traveled up to the smoking tip of her murderer’s gun.

  Takara was no Yakuza reject. Vesta Corporation had recruited her more than a decade before. She was the best in the business. Her subtle Japanese features were augmented with too many cybernetic modifications. How deep they went was anyone’s guess. Her heavily pierced ears looked like they might have been an extension of one of her other modifications.

  Liam took one more look at Tiffany’s body laying at his feet and asked the Vesta Corporation enforcer, “Why?”

  “Typical, thief. Always asking the wrong questions.”

  •

  Liam opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. His mind was reeling. Maybe the woman that haunted his dreams had an even stronger hold over him than he’d thought. Takara, Tiffany, he wanted to forget but couldn’t. Tiffany’s death continued to eat away at him.

  “Why?” Liam whispered to himself, tears filling his eyes and streaming down either side of his face, collecting with grains of sand on their descent.

  It was that night that prevented him from moving on, even when Saturn had poured her heart out to him. Every choice he’d made since that day had been to protect those close to him, even the choices that hadn’t ended well. Every part of him wanted to love Saturn. But it wasn’t her that haunted his dreams. He wasn’t sure he could ever allow himself to truly love. Not after what he’d caused.

  16

  Ju-Long gripped an Ansaran soldier’s uniform and brought the alien’s frightened face up to his own. The Ansaran’s black eyes grew wide and the skin on his scaled face contorted around his sputtering mouth. His pleas for mercy went unanswered.

  Astrid smirked. Ju-Long certainly had a way with people.

  “Who’s the mercenary in the blue armor?” Ju-Long growled.

  “I don’t know,” the guard sputtered. “No one knows.”

  Ju-Long was growing impatient. It wouldn’t be long before he moved beyond benign interrogation. Astrid checked the street from the head of the alleyway. No one was around. At least there would be no witnesses.

  “Who does he work for?”

  “Whoever pays the best,” the Ansaran stammered. “Please.”

  Ju-Long shook him violently and the frightened guard continued at a much faster rate, “I’ve seen him with the Caretaker before. That’s all I know, I swear.”

  “Toras?” Ju-Long mumbled half to himself.

  The Ansaran’s eyes shot to Astrid and then back to Ju-Long, as though unsure of whom he should be most afraid. The guard had seen her face and recognized her for an Ansaran woman despite her disguise. She didn’t want to think of the implications.

  The guard went on, “Do you know how much trouble you’ll be in if he finds out about this?”

  “Is that a threat?”

  Tears welled up at the corners of the Ansaran guard’s eyes. The sounds that came out of his mouth would have brought shame to any respectable person, regardless of sex or species. Being of the rarer Ansaran sex, Astrid had seen her fair share of fear in the eyes of the Ansaran men she’d met. They didn’t know how to act around her. Whether to clamor for her affection or hide in shame. This one was particularly weak-willed.

  “N-No,” the Ansaran stuttered.

  “What was that?” Ju-Long bellowed.

  “No! No, of course not.”

  Astrid’s voice called to Ju-Long from the head of the alley, “That’s enough, Ju-Long. If any more Ansarans ruin their uniforms, we’ll draw too much attention to ourselves.”

  Ju-Long tightened his grip on the armor plates at the soldier’s chest. “You know who I am?”

  The man nodded, lower lip quivering.

  “You’re the champion. The winner of the Tournament of Fists.”

  “You know what will happen if you squeal?”

  The Ansaran nodded his head vigorously. Astrid could see the abundance of fear in every line and every tiny scale on the alien’s face. Finally, Ju-Long released him with a shove and the Ansaran scrambled away, leaving his helmet behind. Ju-Long stood and brushed the dust off his tan pants. He turned toward Astrid and picked up the Ansaran laser rifle laying on the ground which he’d stripped off the soldier before their brief conversation.

  When he approached her, she shook her head and said, “So far it doesn’t look like anyone knows much more than we already guessed. Or at least, they’re too scared of our new friend to talk. Maybe we should try a different approach?”

  “I’ve only had a heart-to-heart with three of them. Someone’s got to know who this bounty hunter is. No man is a ghost.”

  Astrid cocked her head to the side and scolded him. “Still, maybe we should be more careful. Just because the Dinari adore you doesn’t make you untouchable.”

  He was being too reckless. If they weren’t careful they could stir up more trouble than they’d bargained for. Ju-Long’s wild actions were beginning to stress her out, but still, there was something intoxicating about being around him. His c
onfidence was invigorating.

  “We’ll see,” Ju-Long replied. “Things aren’t going well for your people. They can’t afford to make a martyr out of me. And I don’t intend to let them.”

  Astrid grinned and mounted their hover bike, pulling her hood further down over her face to obstruct her light blue skin. She pulled a roughly-woven scarf up over her mouth and nose, partially to hide her face, and partially to combat the approaching dust storm that was kicking up sand all over the place. It wouldn’t be long before it enveloped the entire colony.

  Ju-Long climbed on behind her and placed his hands on her hips, squeezing in a familiar manner. Astrid interlaced his fingers in hers and smiled. Without another word, she released his hand and gripped the bike’s handles, pointing her boot toward the ground and sending the hover bike shooting out of the alley. She banked quickly to the right onto Sector Seven’s main road in search of their next unsuspecting victim.

  17

  “There’s still no sign of Ju-Long or Astrid, and I can’t wait around any longer,” Zega said, his sharp claws tapping against the long stone table.

  Saturn steepled her fingers beneath her chin and rested her elbows on a flat section of the table’s surface in the dingy cellar of The Sand’s Edge. The bar’s proprietor was an engorged Dinari who had a habit of accumulating filth in all of the spaces between his scales. Juice from grilled flesh was persistently hardened around his lips. Despite this, his cloaks were always changed daily and were richly ornamented with precious stones and vibrant colors. Zega hardened his glare and Saturn nodded reluctantly.

  Across the room, Nix stood by the entrance, periodically checking the front door for activity. When Zega motioned to him, he shut the cellar door and took his place opposite Saturn, the fat Dinari taking up the head of the table. Zega’s golden eyes betrayed his stress, deep circles like cracked leather forming underneath and on either side of the sockets.