Orion: Star Guardians, Book 1

by Ruby Lionsdrake

  “It wasn’t Sage, was it?”

  “No, but we did have a few squabbles before then when we weren’t in uniform. There are scars. I’m younger and faster and bigger and stronger than he is, but somehow, he always wins when we fight. He always wins at everything.” Orion cleared his throat. “Anyway, if you couldn’t guess by now, I’d actually wanted to be a Star Guardian—hells, I even idolized my brother when I was growing up—but I got disillusioned by the military. And I was bitter that I was never picked. I decided to cut my own path, work for myself. I figured that as a bounty hunter, I was still doing good. I was bringing criminals to justice. Even if Sage doesn’t approve of my methods. The hells with him.”

  Juanita reached out and squeezed his arm. The support warmed his heart, and he might have basked in it all night, but a distant thud reached his ears, putting him back on alert. It sounded like something or someone had run into a tree.

  Orion turned toward the back of the hill. Was there another team coming up from that direction?

  He didn’t see any lights, but that noise hadn’t sounded animal in nature. Predators were generally smart enough not to crash into trees in the middle of the night.

  He crept to the far side of the hill and crouched behind a bush while tapping at his logostec. A holographic scope formed in the air above the screen. He adjusted the scope to a wide-angle setting and lined it up, alternately peering through it and above it to try and spot whatever had made that noise.

  Clothing rustled behind him, and he was aware of Juanita crouching down to look over his shoulder, but she didn’t disturb him. A whisper drifted to his ears from the direction he was looking. If someone was talking, that meant at least two people coming. Their route should take them past the bottom of the hill and straight toward the back of the fire falcon.

  Finally, Orion spotted movement. Four armored men were striding between the trees, carrying a cylindrical object about six feet in length and three feet in diameter.

  When he saw their armor, his first thought was that this was another team of Star Guardians, but the armor wasn’t black. One was white with the others appearing as shades of gray under the moonlight.

  Slavers, then. And slavers in combat armor. That wasn’t good.

  Orion shifted his focus to the object they carried. Was it some tool for drilling through the hull of the Falcon 8? That seemed a logical guess, except that it didn’t look like a drill. The smooth sides were a casing for something. What it looked like was a weapon. Could it be a missile or bomb?

  One of the men stumbled, and the cylinder dipped. The others cursed at him, the words drifting up the hill.

  Certainty settled in his stomach like a boulder. If they were worried about someone tripping and dropping a corner to the ground, it was definitely something volatile. Perhaps explosively volatile.

  A big enough bomb could definitely blow a hole in the side of the ship, if not blow up the ship in its entirety, not to mention those inside. It could also blow up any Star Guardians who happened to be close by when it exploded. Combat armor could deflect en-bolts, but not the energy of a warhead. And Sage couldn’t be expecting this. Not from a pack of slavers. How was it that these people had been so organized? He sure wished he’d been a part of the interrogation of that first officer. The Star Guardians must have stumbled into some greater plot that had already been afoot.

  “Shit,” Orion muttered as the men strode closer to the clearing with their ominous load.

  Juanita, also peering toward the slavers, rested a hand on his shoulder. He held up his logostec, angling it so she could see through the scope.

  Out on the lake, the lights were converging. There were far more of them now. Fifty? Sixty? There could easily be four men for every light too. The hostilities would break out any minute.

  “What is that thing?” Juanita whispered.

  “A bomb, I think. And I bet the Star Guardians don’t have any idea it’s coming.”

  She looked at him, a question hanging in the air.

  “It could destroy the ship,” he said. “Maybe us too. Unless I can stop them.”

  He glared at the men—he no longer needed the scope to see them. In less than a minute, they would walk past his position and be heading out into the open area around the ship. If he was going to do something, it would have to be soon. But what could he do against men in combat armor?

  If he hit them with en-bolts enough times and in the right places, he could damage their armor, but it wasn’t as if they would stand there without firing back. And if he hit that bomb, it could blow up right there. He and Juanita would definitely be killed then.

  It would be difficult to sneak up on the men too. Their armor would have life-form sensors and would detect his body heat. If one of them looked up the hill, he might be visible to them even now.

  “You mean unless we can stop them,” Juanita whispered.

  “What?”

  “There are two of us. That makes a we.”

  “I appreciate your help earlier, and I really mean that, but a knuckle-puncher won’t do anything against men in armor.”

  “I understand.” She squeezed his arm. “I have a better idea. I’ll lure them away, so you can disarm that thing.”

  “Lure?” Orion was horrified as he imagined her being chased through the woods by slavers in armor. Armor that would enhance their natural abilities and make them fast, far faster than she. “They’ll catch you easily.”

  “Of course they will. I’m going to give myself to them.”

  “But—”

  “Sh, there’s no time.” Juanita tilted her head toward the men. They were now parallel with their hill and would be past it soon. “Trust me, and be ready to disarm that weapon.”

  When she rose to her feet, he almost sprang after her to pin her to the ground for her own good. Whatever crazy plan she had in mind, it might get her killed.

  But as she picked her way down the back of the hill, he stayed where he was. He realized he did trust her. So far, she’d been nothing but useful out here. Who was he to assume she couldn’t be useful again?

  Hoping he wasn’t making a huge mistake, he hunkered down behind the bush and watched her progress.

  Juanita moved around the back of the hill so she wouldn’t risk giving up his hiding spot, and then started running when she reached the bottom. Instead of running away from the men, she ran toward them.

  She hadn’t made much noise when she’d been descending, but now she crunched on every twig along the way. She glanced over her shoulder often, as if fleeing someone.

  The slavers saw her right away, their helmets swiveling toward her as one.

  It took all of Orion’s willpower not to jump to his feet and start firing at them before she reached them, before they could think of hurting her.

  “It’s one of the girls,” one man said, his voice drifting clearly up the hill.

  He stepped forward and intercepted Juanita. The other two leveled their weapons at her.

  19

  Juanita’s heart pounded so loudly in her ears that she was afraid she wouldn’t hear the slaver speak. If he spoke.

  He towered over her in gray armor, the dark, shiny faceplate impossible to see through, and his gauntleted hand wrapped around her arm. The grip was like a vise, and she knew right away, there would be no pulling away from him.

  But she didn’t want to pull away. This had been her plan. Her ridiculous, ill-thought-out, spur-of-the-moment plan.

  “Thank God,” she said, trying to appear relieved as she gazed into that expressionless faceplate. “Can you help me? We got away, but they’re all over out here, looking for us.”

  “Huh?”

  The inarticulate syllable gave her hope. Maybe she wasn’t dealing with a mental giant here. Or maybe her appearance had just flummoxed the slavers.

  Or maybe, she realized with an abrupt thought, he didn’t have a translation chip. She’d assumed they would be ubiquitous among the humans of the galaxy, at least tho
se who traveled, but maybe not.

  The other three men set down the oblong metal object Orion thought was a bomb, and they came over, crowding around, as if to examine her like some strange scientific specimen.

  “My friends and I.” Juanita flung her arm toward the woods, back in the direction she’d come from with the Star Guardians, and hoped at least one of them would understand. “The women that were kidnapped just a couple of days ago. Slavers took us. And then some people claiming to be Star Guardians took us from them, but we didn’t believe them. Real Star Guardians wouldn’t want slaves, would they?” She hoped not only that these men understood, but that they wouldn’t think to wonder how girls from “Gaia” who knew nothing about the galaxy would know all about Star Guardians. “We figured they were slavers, too, so we ran away as soon as they were distracted. And you…” She waved to their armored forms. “Are you Star Guardians? I heard they wear armor…”

  “She thinks we’re Star Guardians?” a man in the back whispered, the words barely audible.

  Good, they did understand.

  Juanita kept gazing up at the one holding her and pretended not to hear.

  “Of course we’re Star Guardians,” another one said firmly, coming up to stand by the one gripping her arm. “You said the rest of the kidnapped slav—er, hapless victims are out here?”

  “Yes. Do you want me to take you to them? Can you help us get out of this awful swamp? Do you have a ship?”

  “We would love to help you,” the man purred. “That’s what Star Guardians do.”

  The one in the back snickered. The man next to him elbowed him. Juanita doubted the gesture was that effective when they were both in armor, but she pretended not to notice the byplay.

  “Yes,” the speaker in the front said. “Lead us to them. We’ll take you to our ship, our Star Guardian ship, and make sure you’re safe. We’ll get you back home right away.”

  “Oh, thank you so much,” Juanita gushed, gripping his arm. If she were better at flirting, she would have batted her lashes and leaned her boobs against him. Not that he could feel boobs through that hard, cold armor.

  “Our group is hiding over this way. I was supposed to go out and find someone to help. I can’t believe my luck coming across real Star Guardians out here.”

  The one holding her released her and gestured for her to lead the way.

  But one of the others cleared his throat. “We have another mission here, Jalk.”

  “Stay with the bomb. Me, Jon, and Xavie will get the women.”

  “The captain may want us to deploy it soon.”

  “Then you can call over some others to help. Look, Darukor. We’re here to get the slaves—the poor victims. And any other victims that we can help in this part of the galaxy. Dealing with the… enemies is just a secondary perk.”

  “The bounties on our enemies’ heads make them a pretty primary perk, I say.”

  “We’ll get the women and then come right back and help out.” The one in the lead strode after Juanita, waving for her to continue on through the trees.

  She did so, and was glad when two more of the men followed. She had hoped to lead all four away from the bomb, but hadn’t truly expected that to happen. Orion would have to figure out a way to deal with the last one. She would keep the others busy for long enough for him to do so. She hoped.

  “Oomph,” she blurted as her toe caught on a root.

  She stumbled several steps, her foot landing in mud. She yanked it out before she could sink in too deeply, but she still almost lost her shoe. Her “trail running” shoes had held up well thus far, and weren’t the worst thing she could have been kidnapped in, but true hiking boots would have been better for this planet.

  “Sorry,” she said. “It’s dark out here. Anyone have a light?”

  One of the men grumbled something, but then a headlamp shot out of his helmet.

  It made it much easier to see where she was going, but all the trees looked the same, and she wasn’t sure she could find the spot she had in mind, especially since it had been dark when they’d left it. All she remembered was that the lake had been off to one side.

  “Are you sure you know where you’re going, woman?” one slaver asked.

  “No,” she answered honestly. “But it hasn’t been long since I left them. The whole group is back here, and we weren’t far from the lake. We might hear them talking any minute.”

  “How many are there?”

  “Over forty.”

  “Excellent,” someone breathed, and she could almost hear him calculating what his share of the slave-selling booty might be.

  A leaf-strewn area ahead caught her eye, one where no trees grew. And then, to one side, stood the massive tree with a big knot on it at head height. That was the one she had leaned against with Orion.

  A hand clamped onto her shoulder, and she squawked as she was brought up short.

  “That’s far enough, woman. We got orders to get back to our load.”

  “But what about the other women?” Juanita asked.

  “We’ll get ’em later.”

  The man pulled Juanita around, pushing her roughly back in the direction of the hill.

  She groaned inwardly. She hadn’t given Orion enough time to do anything.

  • • • • •

  Orion crept down the back side of the hill, using it as cover so the remaining armored man wouldn’t see him. That might not be enough if the slaver was paying attention to his armor’s sensors, but he was leaning his hip against the bomb case and looking out toward the lake. A shout came from that direction, followed by several more shouts in rapid succession. And then the first weapons fired.

  A boom sounded, and soon en-bolts streaked through the night out by the ship. They seemed to come from all sides and even from across the lake. Or in it. Was someone swimming across? Or using a hovercraft?

  Orion hoped Sage knew what he was doing out there. Judging by the way things exploded from so many directions, there were hundreds of enemies to deal with.

  The man next to the bomb straightened, a hand shifting to his weapon.

  Orion aimed his bolt bow at him, but the slaver stood behind the cylindrical case. He needed to get closer before risking a shot.

  But he couldn’t wait indefinitely. The man might call the others back, or he might receive orders to get that bomb out there at any second.

  Orion picked up his pace, doing his best to approach the man’s back from an angle instead of straight behind. That armor would have rear cameras built into the helmet. It was dark, but with the moons out, the man could see movement.

  Despite Orion’s best efforts to take care, the slaver seemed to sense something. He whirled around, lifting the z-bow attached to his armor with a sling. Orion fired first. His bolt bow blazed, lighting up the trees, and a blue en-bolt slammed into his target’s chest.

  The man lurched back a step, but that was it. His cuirass absorbed the energy.

  Anticipating return fire, Orion dove behind a copse of trees.

  Red en-bolts zipped into trunks and branches, and leaves and shards of wood rained down atop him. Orion rolled between two stout trees and rose to his elbows.

  The man was charging away from the bomb, realizing he wouldn’t want to use it for cover.

  Good. Orion fired twice more, his accuracy unerring. The en-bolts slammed into the side of the man’s armor. He hoped they would find a seam.

  But the man sprang behind a tree without faltering. He leaned out on the other side, returning fire.

  Orion ducked and rolled back the way he’d come, hoping his enemy would anticipate him moving in the other direction, trying to work his way closer. Fortunately, the groundcover camouflaged his movements. He came up at the edge of the copse as blasts slammed into the hillside on the other side of the trees.

  Only his foe’s weapon and arm were visible. Orion started to fire at the tree he hid behind, but then shifted his aim. His en-bolt slammed into the z-bow itself, blowing th
e weapon out of the man’s hands.

  On his next shot, Orion hit the tree. The slaver bent over, probably pulling out another weapon, and he ignored the fact that the trunk was getting a battering and that shards of wood were slamming into him. He wouldn’t feel it through the armor.

  Orion got an idea, and he lowered his aim, blasting across the trunk in a straight line. His mother, known for loving gardening, trees, and all things plant-related, wouldn’t be happy with him if she found out about this, but he kept firing.

  The man produced another weapon and returned fire again.

  This time, Orion was almost too slow in ducking. An en-bolt skimmed above his head so close that he felt the heat scorching his scalp through his hair. Clumps of earth and plants flew free, striking his back, and he wondered if his enemy had guessed what he’d been trying to do and meant to beat him to it. The slaver kept firing into the copse, and flames erupted from the trees.

  The slaver’s tree was burning, too, but he paid it no heed, once again protected by his armor.

  Not waiting for the smoke to clear, Orion scooted away from the copse, slithering on his belly like a snake. If the man’s sensors were working well, he might see through the grass Orion used for camouflage, but hopefully the fires burning in the trees would interfere with the heat detection.