by A A Warren
Salena smiled, and drew her cloak tighter around her body. She quickened her pace towards the station. “Talon, keep your wits about you. We’re not here as tourists. We have a job to do.”
As they passed by, Talon noticed a trio of men seated at one of the stalls. Their bodies were draped in cheap plastic cloaks. Dark, beady eyes peered up at him from beneath the poncho hoods. Their skin had the pale, sallow complexion of men who spent their lives inside starships, or colonies like this Bakala. Men who had little exposure to sunlight and fresh air… Miners, perhaps, or dock workers.
Whoever they were, the men’s eyes followed Talon and the others through the crowd of pedestrians. Talon stopped and turned to face them, glaring back at them with a challenging stare. Two of the men averted their eyes, glancing down at their food. The third held his gaze, regarding him with wide, unblinking eyes.
Finally, the man broke eye contact. He slid his chips over the counter and left the stall. The others followed. Talon watched as they ambled away into the throng.
Salena approached him from behind and touched his arm. “Is something wrong?”
Talon shook his head. “I don’t think so. Some men were watching us.”
“Watching us? Were they armed?”
“I don't know. But when you've fought in the arena as long as I have, you learn to spot an enemy. They’re gone now. Probably just dock hands, looking to pick a fight."
They resumed their pace towards the lift tubes and caught up with the others. Salena gave him a concerned glance. “Are you sure?”
He shrugged. “We’ll see. Now, tell me again about this man we’re looking for. What’s his connection to Sartarus?”
Salena held out her wrist display, and let Talon see the screen. It showed an older man, with leathery, wrinkled skin. A salt and pepper beard and a pair of angry red scars decorated his grizzled face.
“Since Sartarus acquired those pylons, dozens of archeologists and anthropologists have turned up dead. Others have simply gone missing. I suspect they were working for Sartarus, helping him translate those ancient symbols. Possibly locating the components he needed to build the weapon. Now that he has what he needs, he’s eliminating anyone who could reveal his plans.”
Talon eyed the face on the screen. Something about the man looked familiar, but he couldn't quite place him. Salena lowered her arm, and the four pushed through the crowed entrance to the lift platform.
“So this man is one of the missing scientists?” Talon asked.
Salena lowered her voice. “Karl Aroyas is more of a tomb raider than a scientist. He’s wanted on nine systems for grave robbing, smuggling, and exporting sacred artifacts. But some of his goods turned up on the black market. They bear the same symbol as the pylons, and your tattoo… the eye of R'Kur. My spies say he’s been hiding here on Bakala, living under an assumed name. He may be the only man alive who can help us figure out what we’re dealing with.”
“If he’s hiding, what makes you think he’ll be willing to talk to us?”
Salena flashed him her enigmatic smile. “Greed, of course. He believes I’m a buyer of antiquities. A spoiled noble woman, stuffing her mansion with the priceless relics of long dead worlds.”
“HALT!” an electronic voice blared above them. A metal sphere, about the size of a man’s head, hovered into view. The other people on the platform backed off, moving away from Talon and Salena. An array of red beams emitted from a lens on the front of the sphere. The light traversed up and down Talon’s body, and the sphere emitted a high-pitched, droning hum.
“SUBJECT CONFIRMED,” the voice from the sphere stated. “FIRST NAME TALON. LAST NAME: NONE. DOMINION SLAVE LICENSE 0091178B. PROPERTY OF RUFA OMDURA. NO TRANSIT LICENSE ON FILE. ALERT: TRAVEL IS NOT AUTHORIZED.”
Talon clenched his fists, causing the muscles in his arms to ripple and bulge. His skin flushed red with anger, as he thought back to his previous owner’s treachery. The hovering mech emitted a quiet beep, and floated back a few inches.
“Listen you floating heap of scrap,” Talon growled. “Call me property again, and I swear, I’ll—”
Salena rested her hand on Talon’s shoulder. She pulled him back, and stepped up to the sphere.
“My apologies,” she said, her voice taking on the haughty tone of a noblewoman. “There’s a been some kind of mistake. I purchased this slave several weeks ago. The transfer of ownership must be held up at central processing. Here, look at my records.”
Her wrist unit projected a series of letters and numbers in the air. The red beams scanned the new information.
The security mech was silent for a moment, then the voice squawked back to life. “TRANSFER OF OWNERSHIP ACKNOWLEDGED. TRAVEL AUTHORIZED.”
The mech drifted away. The crowd around them murmured a collective sigh of relief, as they resumed their frantic pushing and shoving.
Talon glared down Salena. “How did you get ownership records with my name on them?”
She flashed him a smile, and her eyes sparkled. “Forgery, of course. Much easier than erasing your blood scan data. You’ll still need the prince’s help to do that.”
Avra stared at the mech as it disappeared into sky. “Won’t that thing log Talon’s travel? Alert Sartarus to our presence here?”
Zobo growled. “By the time the report makes its way through Bakala’s network, we’ll be long gone. This may be a Dominion colony, but the crime syndicates control everything here. The last thing they want is a Dominion lord poking his nose into their business.”
Salena reached up and grabbed the hood of Talon’s cloak, adjusting it to hide his face. “That being said,” she murmured, “there’s no point in attracting unnecessary attention. We must keep a low profile. Try to keep your face hidden.”
There was a loud hum as the lifter fields kicked in, and the platform rose up towards the station.
Chapter Twelve
Salena purchased them transport passes, and they shoved their way on to the waiting train. Within minutes, she and Talon were seated in the last narrow car of the serpentine hover train.
The car was nearly full, so Avra and Zobo moved forward to the next one. A warbling siren announced their departure. The train slid above the guide rail and pulled out of the station. Soon, they were racing through the eternal night of Bakala’s shielded skies.
Lights and buildings rushed by outside, a blur of color and motion. Glow tubes ran along the ceiling of the train car, bathing the crowd of passengers in a sickly green light. Peering through the grimy windows, Talon could still make out the cloud of rocks and wreckage, drifting in the dark void above the colony.
“What caused all this debris?” he asked. “Was a great battle fought here?”
Salena shook her head. “Not exactly. In the days of the Star Cross Throne, Bakala was a planet. There was a mining colony there, digging up cryocite crystals for weapons. Dozens of pleasure stations like this one orbited the colony, to keep the miners happy.”
“I’ve seen weapon-smiths work with raw cryocite,” Talon said, eying one of the floating hulks in the distance. It was just a tiny black speck, but he knew in reality the wreckage would be enormous. “The crystals are unstable until they’ve been processed.”
She gave him a sad smile. “They certainly are. After the throne fell, the galaxy descended into war. Weapon production increased, people got careless. There was an accident, deep within the mine… an explosion. It set off a chain reaction that destroyed the planet’s core. The remains of Bakala formed the asteroid belt you see now. All the other stations were destroyed. Only this one survived, and it took on the name of the old planet.”
Her shimmering blue eyes looked up, watching the debris drifting above them. “Millions of lives, snuffed out in an instant. No battle. No glory. But casualties of war, nonetheless.”
Talon looked down at her. “You speak as if you were there. But the throne fell ages ago, long before the rise of the Dominion. There have been many wars since then.”
&nb
sp; She ignored his words, and continued staring out the window in silence.
The view outside changed. Crumbling, older structure replaced the neon signs and shimmering tower. Row after row of pre-fabricated dwellings stacked upon each other, forming a sloping canyon of shops, businesses, and homes. The buildings were constructed from cheap artificial concrete. Their pitted, crumbling walls showed obvious signs of age and decay.
“We’re leaving District A,” Salena whispered, as she glanced at the hovels outside the window. “Aroyas is staying in District G, on the other side of the colony.”
“Good,” Talon replied, glancing towards the back of the train. “I’ve been thinking. If Aroyas knows the history of these symbols, perhaps he can tell me who put this mark on my skin. Or the crystal in my eye. Maybe he knows who wiped my memory as well. I swear, if I find—”
He paused, squinting at some men moving up from the rear of the car towards them. He couldn't see them clearly through the crowd, but their movements seemed familiar somehow. They slid through the other passengers like predatory reptiles stalking through clumps of reeds.
Talon had survived countless battles and blood matches in arenas across the galaxy. He had been trained to read the movements of his enemies, to anticipate their attacks. Seeing the way these men moved now, he was certain of one thing…
They were prepared for violence.
Talon rose to his feet, and pretended to stretch. He grabbed Salena’s arm, and yanked her up off her seat. “Move to the next car, quickly,” he whispered.
“What? What are you—”
Before she could finish her sentence, her eyes squeezed shut, and her face contorted in pain. She screamed and clutched her temples. The crowd murmured and shot them nervous glances as they shifted out of the way. Talon dragged her limp body towards the front of the train.
“Salena, what is it?”
The glow in her eye blinked and fluttered. She gasped for breath. Circling her arm around his broad shoulders, she pulled herself back to her feet. They limped towards the front of the car.
“Dark energy… I sense large amounts of it nearby. Here, on the train!”
Talon shot one more glance towards the rear of the train car. One of the men removed his hood, revealing pale skin and short, cropped hair… One of the men he had seen at the food stall, back in the streets. They had been followed.
Talon muttered a silent curse, furious at himself for failing to notice them sooner.
The man slid a blade from under his cloak. Talon narrowed his eyes… He spotted a thin line of cryocite crystal along the edge, glittering in the train car’s green light.
The crowd screamed. They began pushing and shoving past Talon and the men, moving to the exit at the front of the car. Those who could not escape huddled along the sides, taking cover between the seats.
Shoving Salena behind him, Talon whirled around to face his enemies. He tore his cloak from his body. Clutching the loose fabric in his fist, he used his free hand to draw his axe from his harness. With a click of a button, the plasma blade flamed to life, its angry hum echoing in the narrow confines of the car.
The lead man raised his sword. “In Daizon’s name!” he bellowed. As he lunged forward, Talon spotted one of the man’s comrades from the corner of his eye. He raised the barrel of a heavy pulse pistol from under his poncho.
Moving without thought, Talon dipped low and tossed his cloak into the air. The sudden motion threw off the man’s aim. He fired, but the bolt of energy flew wide, piercing the fluttering cloak, and shattering the window on Talon’s left side.
Without stopping, Talon threw up his axe, blocking the leader’s sword strike. The razor-sharp cryocite in the blade could cut through almost anything. But the magnetic containment field of the plasma axe repelled the metal blade behind the deadly crystal. The attacker was thrown off balance, as Talon shunted his blow aside.
Talon grasped the hilt of the axe with both hands, and swung it down. His opponent rolled backwards, just as the fiery blade tore into the floor of the car. Sparks and molten metal sprayed from the gash in the deck plates of the speeding train.
As he wrenched the weapon from the tangle of metal and wires, Talon glanced at the other attacker. He was aiming his pistol for a second shot. Talon raised the axe, trying to guard his head with the glowing energy blade.
Too slow, Talon thought. He’s got me in his sights!
The man fired… Talon heard the whine of the energy bolt slicing through the air. But instead of piercing his skull, it deflected off a glowing barrier. It ricocheted and sparked against the metal walls of the train car… A shimmering blue shield hovered in the air, just in front of Talon's face.
Salena stood behind him, her eyes blazing in the dim train car. Crackling blue symbols, glowing forms of pure energy, circled around her hands. She stabbed with her fists, and screamed words in a language Talon had never heard. The energy field rushed forward, striking the gunman in the face. As the man stumbled back, the glowing blue light wrapped around his head, smothering him in an unbreakable grip. He dropped the gun, and clawed at the energy field that engulfed his face.
Salena threw her arms to the side. The crackling blue energy dragged the man through the air. He crashed into the side of the car with a dull thud. Then he slumped to the ground, and ceased his struggling.
Bolts of energy crackled around Salena's hands and eyes. As the glow faded, she staggered backwards. She grabbed a railing on the side of the car, weakened from her attack.
Talon yanked his eyes back to the leader. His lips curled into a grim smile. He spun the axe from side to side, whirling the blade until it became an orange blur. With a fierce war cry, he charged forward, swinging the weapon in a series of powerful strikes.
The leader blocked each attack with his sword, but Talon’s strength was too much for him. Each blow sent him staggering backwards. The axe’s energy field hummed and whined as it sparked against the crystal of the leader’s sword.
Finally, the man recovered, and pressed his attack. He deflected one of Talon’s mighty blows, then swung his sword in a wide arc before him. Moving with the instincts born from uncountable victories in the arena, Talon dropped to his knees. The blade whistled above him, missing his head by millimeters. It sliced through a metal pole in the center of the car, sending a shower of sparks into the air.
The momentum of the attack drove the crystal-edged blade into the wall of the train car. More sparks erupted as the sword gouged into a flickering vid screen. The man’s eyes opened wide with fear… He yanked at the blade, but he couldn’t dislodge it from the crumpled metal and tangled wires.
Talon leapt back to his feet, and swung his axe overhead. His opponent screamed as the fiery blade sliced through his limb, severing his arm clean off. A brief jet of crimson sprayed across the metal floor. A split second later, the sizzle of burning flesh filled the air of the train car. The intense heat of the plasma blade had cauterized the wound.
The man stumbled back, cradling his severed arm. Smoke and steam rose from the charred flesh of the stump. He fell to the ground next to the third attacker, the man who had remained in the rear.
Talon stepped forward. He watched as the final attacker knelt on the floor, pulling a metal object from his backpack. It was a thick, circular disk, about the size of a dinner plate. He slammed it onto the floor, and a ring of red lights glowed to life around the object’s perimeter.
“Talon, get back!” Salena shouted.
Talon raised his axe. “If you’re so eager for death, face it like a man,” he growled. “Take up your friend’s blade, and meet me in combat.”
The man looked up at Talon and smiled. His eyes were wide and manic… they held the twitching glint of madness, but no sign of fear.
“Death is an illusion,” he shouted, his voice quavering with excitement. “In Daizon, we are eternal.”
Before Talon could even move, a slim, curved dagger appeared in the man’s hand. The smile never left his lips
, as he dragged the blade across his neck.
The disk hummed louder, as his blood showered the metal surface. The attacker gasped a final death rattle, and slumped to the floor. A small dome on the surface of the disk slid open, revealing a spinning eye of red light.
Talon turned to the few passengers left huddling in the train car. “Move, you fools! There’s a bomb on the train!”
With a chorus of screams and shouts, the survivors shoved their way through the door at the front of the train.
Salena grabbed his arm. “Talon, wait,” she hissed. “Its not a bomb! It’s—”
Before she could finish her sentence, a deafening whine screamed from the disk. A spider web of cracks rippled through the windows in the car. Then they exploded, showering them both in fragments of glass. Talon winced in pain, but he raised his axe and stood his ground. Salena covered her ears, and fell to her knees as the wind whipped through her long blue hair.
A cone of blood-red light burst from the disk, striking the roof of the train car.
“Orion’s blazing bow!” Talon gasped.
As Salena pulled him towards the door at the front of the car, an explosion of flesh oozed from the crimson light. In the blinking glow tubes of the train, Talon saw a quivering blob, covered in moist scales and tufts of mangy fur. It seemed to pour out from the red light, filling the narrow confines of the train car. It crushed the bodies of their attackers under its heaving bulk. Several passengers screamed as they were engulfed by the hideous blob. The metal walls of the car bulged and groaned, as they struggled to contain the creature’s mass.
The door behind Talon hissed open. He turned and saw Zobo and Avra charge into the car.
Zobo held his pulse pistol at the ready. His furry snout curled up above a toothy snarl.
“What the hell is going on here?” he growled. “There's a mob—"
The sight of the hellish creature stopped the pair in their tracks.
“Oh,” Zobo said, raising his pistol. “Never mind.”
