Talon the Raider

by A A Warren

  Chapter Thirteen

  Talon battered the glowing wall with his fists, ignoring the jolts of pain that ran through his arms. He coughed again, as the gas penetrated his nostrils and lungs. The door slid open and Makor entered the room. The alien stood a few inches away from the forcefield, staring at him through the swirling mist. Then the hissing sound ceased, and the haze began to clear.

  Talon pounded one last time on the barrier. The glowing energy wall rippled and hummed, but remained standing. “You spoke of honor,” he bellowed. “Poison is the weapon of a coward!”

  “The gas is not poisonous,” Makor replied. “It is merely a stimulant, to counteract the sedative our medic gave you.”

  Talon narrowed his eyes, and stepped back from the forcefield. “Why did you drug me? Am I a prisoner here or not?”

  Makor raised his good arm, and tapped a control unit mounted to his belt.

  A second set of force walls sprung up on either side of Talon, pinning him in a narrow box of glowing energy.

  “You are a citizen of the Tygon Dominion,” the alien hissed through his mask. “Our kingdoms are at war. We had to scan you, to make sure you weren’t carrying any dangerous implants. Explosives, transmitters, and the like. You should consider yourself lucky I did not rip that crystal eye of yours from your skull myself.”

  “It’s not an implant,” Talon grunted. “Not a cybernetic one, anyway.”

  “I know.” Makor paused. “It showed as negative on our scans. But it does seem to possess a faint trace of dark energy.”

  Talon furrowed his brow. “Dark energy? I didn’t know. I thought—”

  “Where did you get it?”

  Talon shrugged. “I can’t say. I lost my memories when I was a boy.”

  Makor nodded. “Yes, our scans showed that as well. Your brain shows damage consistent with a life pod malfunction. So be it. But before your audience with the queen, there is something else I wish to ask you. Your battle trainer, Orex Griff. Where is he now?”

  Talon clenched his jaw. He stepped back a few inches from the wall of pulsing energy. “He died years ago.”

  Makor’s scaled brow furrowed, but his expression was unreadable behind his hydro-mask. “In the arena?”

  Talon nodded. “Aye. His opponent was a cowardly piece of hundskak. The man hid a venomed blade in his armor. After the battle, money changed hands. The arena officials were bribed, and the victory was declared legitimate.”

  A low hiss echoed from the alien’s hydro mask. Talon couldn’t tell if the sound was a sigh or a growl.

  “That is most unfortunate,” Makor said in a low, monotone voice. “I owed him a debt. You were his student, yes?”

  Talon nodded. “More than that. Orex was…” He paused, the words caught in his throat. “The man was like a father to me,” he finally said.

  Makor cocked his head and stared at him. “Then honor demands that the debt passes to you. Assuming you survive.” The alien’s clawed finger tapped another glowing panel on his belt.

  Talon looked up at him with a suspicious glare. “Survive? What do—”

  Before he could finish his sentence, a section of the floor slid open beneath his feet. Talon sucked in a deep breath, as he shot down into the darkness below. For a brief moment, his stomach heaved as he plummeted in free-fall. Then, he felt the warm friction of a lifter field kick in and slow his descent. He reached out with his arms… the smooth, polished sides of a metal tube rushed past his fingers.

  He slammed into the ground, instinctively flexing his knees to absorb the impact. He shook his head to clear his mind. Beyond the darkness of whatever new chamber he had entered, he could hear a noise… a thundering roar, rising and falling in volume.

  He knew exactly what that sound was. He had heard it many times. It was a signal to him, a warning to clear the confused jumble of thoughts from his mind, and focus.

  This was an arena. Battle would soon be at hand.

  As if on cue, a pair of hovering glow spheres blazed to life. Their crimson radiance reflected off the polished metal walls surrounding him. His battle harness and weapons were suspended in another lifter beam, gently bobbing in the center of the room.

  He looked up as the hatch that had deposited him into the holding chamber hissed shut. There would be no going back that way. The room’s only exit stood before him, a pair of interlocking metal doors with a red beam of light running down the center.

  Talon stepped forward and plucked his harness from the air. He strapped it on, checking the pair of scimitars that angled back from the belt. They slid in and out with smooth precision, and their cryocite-lined blades shimmered in the red light. Finally, he grabbed the shaft of his plasma axe, and checked the controls, making sure no inhibits had been installed.

  Satisfied, he reached back and clipped it to the rear of his harness.

  He glanced up, certain he was being watched by cameras he could not see.

  “Well?” he grunted. “Aren’t you hungry for your blood sport? Let’s get on with it!”

  A voice echoed through the room, amplified by speakers above the door. It spoke a series of brief, short words in the Aoshun tongue. Talon didn’t understand the language, but after years of battling in arenas across the galaxy, he didn’t have to.

  He knew it was a countdown.

  3… 2… 1…

  The strip of light turned green, and the heavy blast doors crawled open. Talon stepped through and entered a short, featureless hallway. The roar of the crowd outside grew louder. He marched out of the hallway, and entered a towering, octagon-shaped chamber. Steep, armor-plated walls surrounded him, rising up from the metal grated floor.

  A mangy crowd filled in the stands above, stamping their feet and clapping. They were mostly Aoshun, with dark eyes and pale skin similar to Vaki’s. But scattered through the mob were faces and features of all kinds, human and alien alike. Their clothes were worn and tattered, and their bodies were smeared with grease. More than a few had faces marked with angry purple scars, or the plastic sheen of cheap medical implants.

  As he marched towards the center of the chamber, the crowd roared even louder with screams and cheers of excitement. Their eyes glinted with bloodlust. The sight made his nerves tingle, and he felt the rush of adrenaline in his veins. No matter how hard he had fought to win his freedom, the arena would always be a part of him.

  “Orion’s blazing bow,” he muttered to himself. “Orex, my old friend… you were right.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Talon stood in the center of the octagon. To either side, and above the entrance behind him, pairs of men stood on raised platforms above the crowds. They wore red sashes and flanked skeletal frames of energy projectors. With a loud hum, glowing energy membranes blazed to life within the frames. The men took turns pounding on the disks of energy with charged control rods. As the rods struck the colorful fields, they produced a thumping drumbeat that echoed through the room, silencing the crowd.

  The drumming increased in speed, the energy fields pulsed with light and sound. A platform above the wall ahead of him slid forward, like a gangplank. A woman in flowing robes stood at the railing. Talon stared up at her and felt his pulse quicken. Even at this distance, he could see she was stunning.

  Her pale, flawless skin looked like it was carved from the ice outside. Despite her Aoshun features, her long hair was not dark… it fell behind her like a waterfall of pale, silvery blonde threads. As she stepped forward, her fur-trimmed robe parted and flowed around her. The polished black battle armor that clung to her flesh beneath was purely ceremonial and did little to hide the supple curves of her body.

  A gold crown perched above her dark, probing eyes. She peered down at him, and her lips parted. Her hypnotic stare held a gleam of playful hunger, like a cat toying with its prey.

  Talon tore his eyes away from her, as another figure pushed her way to the railing above his right side. Vaki shoved a drunken miner out of her way and clenched the railing in her hand
s. A pair of guards followed behind her, struggling to catch up.

  She had changed out of her jumpsuit, and now wore traditional Aoshun garments… a gold trimmed leather bodice, and a long, crimson skirt. The fabric was belted at the waist, and a slit down the middle revealed her shapely, athletic legs.

  Talon shot her a confident smile, then turned back to face the cold, regal woman staring down at him. The aquatic alien, Makor, made his way to her side, and whispered a few words in her ear. She nodded and smiled, but did not take her eyes off Talon.

  The drumming ceased. The crowd was silent.

  “Queen Katara, I presume?” Talon shouted up to her.

  “Silence,” growled Makor. A comm system hidden in the platform amplified his voice to a bellowing roar. “How dare you—”

  The woman lifted her delicate hand, and Makor ceased his bellicose ranting. Long obsidian nails tipped each of her fingers, and they shimmered in the light of the glow spheres.

  “I am Queen Katara,” the woman announced. She spoke in a proud, haughty tone. But again, Talon sensed the husky tinge of hunger and desire in her voice. Her eyes drifted up and down his body. Her hand slid along the railing as she leaned towards him.

  “I am told your name is Talon. You are a gladiator, yes? From the Tygon Dominion?”

  “I was once. Now I am a free man.”

  Katara arched a single eyebrow. “Are you now?” She shot a withering glance at Vaki, then gave a disdainful shrug. “Free or not, you and your… associate … are trespassing. This mining colony is the property of the Toho Clan. We do not take kindly to spies or outsiders in our territory.”

  “Our spacecraft suffered a malfunction,” Talon replied. “We crashed here and followed a beacon, looking for shelter. We ask only for your assistance. If you could send an emergency transmission, or—”

  "We would be delighted to help you." The queen smiled and ran her glittering black nails through her hair. "Unfortunately, a nearby pulsar has disrupted communications in this system for months now. It is impossible to send any transmission to or from this planet. We could provide you with a new ship, of course. But here in the Consortium, we value a fair trade. How do you intend to pay?"

  “I have a feeling you have some ideas on the matter,” Talon snarled.

  The queen laughed. "Impertinent, but brave. I expect nothing less from a gladiator. Neros may be rich in precious minerals, but this frozen ball of ice and snow lies far from the star lanes. We get few visitors here. I believe my subjects would enjoy some entertainment. Perhaps you could dazzle us with your skills in our humble arena?” She glanced again at Vaki. “Or if not, I’m sure your little friend could occupy them for a time?"

  Vaki glared at the woman, but said nothing as the guards gripped her arms tight.

  Talon called up to her. “And if I do, you’ll provide us with a ship?”

  “More than a fair trade,” the beautiful woman sighed. Her honeyed words echoed through the chamber. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

  Talon drew his blades from their scabbards. “Then let’s get on with it.”

  The woman shrugged out of her robe. A pair of handmaidens cloaked in white kimonos bowed, then gathered the discarded garment from the floor. As they scurried out of the way a mechanical hum arose from the platform. A metal throne emerged from the floor behind Katara, unfolding like a mechanical butterfly emerging from a cocoon. Servomotors locked the arms and seat in place. A jagged back, adorned with curved blades and animal tusks, rose behind the cushioned seat.

  Katara lowered herself onto the throne. She gripped the sides and crossed her legs. "Excellent," she said.

  Makor stepped forward. He glared down at Talon with his wide yellow eyes and raised his severed arm. Talon squinted and looked closer at the injured limb. He saw a glow emerging from the lens that caped the wound. The light grew brighter, and flowed through the air like burning liquid. It seemed to fill the confines of an invisible vessel, like water poured into a glass.

  A magnetic containment field, he thought. It’s shaping the plasma, like the blade of my axe!

  The energy conformed to the shape of the invisible field. Makor soon held a glowing limb formed of fiery plasma before him. He clenched the blazing fingers into a fist and lifted it above his head. The drums once again pounded to life. The men beat the energy membranes with their control rods at a frenzied pace.

  “May you fight and die with honor, outsider!” Makor gurgled through his mask. “And now… Begin!”

  He threw his glowing arm down, and the drumming rose to a crescendo.

  Beneath the queen’s platform, another set of doors opened with a grinding clatter. Talon spun one of his blades in his hands, making sure the weight and balance were still correct.

  A shadow moved towards him from the dark chamber beyond the doors. Then a figure stepped into the light.

  “GAJORO! GAJORO! GAJORO!” the crowd chanted. The drummers matched the beat of the cheering voices. The shadow loomed over Talon. The figure’s heavy boots thudded across the metal grills in the floor.The man the crowd called Gajoro entered the arena.

  He was huge, towering over Talon by half an arm’s length. The man’s chest was broad but flabby, and the massive bulk of his stomach and abdomen oozed over the waistband of his breaches. His dimpled, uneven skull was shaved smooth, save for a top knot of jet-black hair that ran down his neck in a braid. His eyes were two black pits, sunken beneath a thick, bulging brow.

  Talon narrowed his eyes as he looked his opponent up and down. Elaborate, colorful tattoos covered every inch of skin on the man's chest and arms. The images of dragons, tigers, and Aoshun demons seemed to leap and crawl across his rippling flesh.

  The tattooed giant bellowed a war cry and charged towards Talon. His footsteps pounded across the metal grates, echoing like gongs in the octagonal room.

  Talon darted sideways, slashing out with one of his swords. Even as his blade cut through the air, the big man pivoted. With lightening speed, he slammed his forearm into Talon’s attack arm before the gladiator’s blow could connect. The force of the block nearly spun Talon in a circle. He struggled to recover his balance, as the man swung another meaty fist at him. He could feel the breeze from the near miss lift his hair as Gajoro’s tree trunk arm flew over his head.

  Not just big, Talon thought. He’s fast as well…

  Recovering, Talon ducked under the big man’s arm, and slammed his knuckles into his opponent’s gut. Beneath the fat and blubber, he felt a wall of rock-hard muscle.

  He popped up behind the towering giant and stomped his boot on the crease of the man’s knee. Gajoro dipped down, striking the metal grate with a loud crash. Talon raised his twin swords above his head.

  Before he could strike, the roar of the crowd reached a feverish pitch. He heard servo motors humming behind him. His instincts checked his attack. He turned and saw a metal pole emerging from the center of the octagon.

  A ring circled the pole, and a tiny red lens protruded from the band of metal. A beam of light lanced out from the crimson lens, striking the armored wall at waist height.

  It only took Talon a fraction of a second to realize the lens ring was spinning, and the beam was moving towards them. But in that short time, the deadly energy blade swung closer. Talon threw himself to the ground and rolled away from Gajoro.

  The beam passed overhead, and he felt a wave of heat emanate from the glowing line of energy. As his body clanged across the floor, the crimson beam continued to spin, moving over his prone opponent and circling around the chamber.

  The big man lumbered to his feet. He grinned, revealing a wide mouth full of implanted metal fangs. Dipping his giant hands, he removed a slim metal rod from his belt. With the click of a button, the rod extended, springing into a four-foot long club. Tiny metal dots emerged from the club’s surface, and an energy field hummed to life, shimmering around the weapon. He raised the club over his head and charged toward Talon.

  The drum beat continued, drowning out
the roar of the crowd. Talon sprang forward, locking his blades before him in a cross block. Gajoro swung the energized club down. The impact forced Talon to his knees. He grunted in pain as the knotted muscles in his arms buckled. Moving faster than his bulk would seem to allow, Gajoro swung again, this time dipping his weapon under Talon’s.

  Talon grit his teeth as the blow connected, and the energy field struck his flesh. A wave of pain flooded his nerves. The power of the swing drove him backwards, and he staggered into the arena wall with a dull thud. He heard a loud hiss moving towards him. Glancing to his left, he saw the crimson beam, carving a smoking trail in the metal wall. It was heading towards him…

  He ducked and rolled across the floor, as the beam once again spun overhead. The drums increased their pace, and he saw the metal ring spinning faster and faster, driving the beam in a circle through the chamber. With an electric hum, the ring slid lower down the pole. Now the beam swept just above the floor.

  Gajoro leapt up, letting the deadly energy blade pass beneath him. He slammed back down, and the floor shook and rattled beneath his weight. He lumbered toward Talon’s position, swinging the club down with both hands. Talon rolled left and the energy field crackled as it struck the plates where his head had been a second before.

  Slashing out with his blade, Talon cut a gash in the behemoth’s calf.

  Gajoro stumbled, then swung the club around. Talon leapt backwards, dodging the mighty blow. Blood flew from his blade and spattered across the floor.

  Talon grinned. “First blood is mine, Gajoro.”

  “Talon, look out!” a voice screamed from the stands, raising above the crowd and the frantic drums.

  Talon glanced up… it was Vaki who had warned him. He heard the whine of the spinning ring… it had sped up again, moving faster around the arena. Its deadly beam was nearly upon him.