by A A Warren
B’Turo shrugged, and shot Talon a sideways glance. “Maybe, but I've seen worse. Before I transferred to this colony I was working hard labor in a Consortium prison. Neros is a pleasure planet compared to that place.”
“What was your crime?”
B’Turo turned back to the controls, and kept his dark eyes focused on the view outside the cockpit. “I owed the wrong people money. Here in the Consortium, that’s all it takes.”
Talon leaned back in his chair and slipped his plasma axe from his harness. Leaving the unit powered off, he cleaned the projection lens assembly with a tiny hyper-sonic tool.
“Vaki said much the same. Profit is all well and good, but it’s hard for me to believe the Consortium can control people’s lives to such a degree. Why don’t you rise up and fight?”
B’Turo chuckled. "It’s not that easy, kid. The clans like to play dress up. They hand out fancy titles like Prince and Lord. The Kujita Warriors swear oaths to uphold their honor and heritage. But at its heart, it’s just a big company. A company that owns almost everything in this entire sector of space. And the clans share their profits with the Jotoru Emperor himself, so he doesn't lift a finger to stop them."
Talon shrugged. “I’ve fought powerful opponents all my life. Things people said ordinary men could never defeat. Mechs, beasts, monsters created from dark energy… even a god, once.”
“A god, eh? Well, I’ve never seen any gods out here. But I’ve been around long enough to learn a thing or two. And trust me, kid… There are things in this galaxy you can’t fight with a gun or a plasma axe. Money… Chips, shares, gold... whatever you want to call it. I don’t care if you’re a convict or a king. When there’s enough on the line, it can crush a man's soul. It's like gravity… In the end, it always wins.”
“Greed,” Talon grunted. “I was serving on a Merchant Marine ship when the border war began. We were meant to protect Dominion trading convoys. But our Captain decided there was more wealth to be had as a privateer, raiding Consortium ships. His greed got most of his crew killed.”
Talon paused and stared out the cockpit window. He sighed. “I’m no more immune to the lure of riches than any man. I took my cut, just like the others. But still… Orex, my old battle trainer, used to say he’d rather die fighting than—”
Suddenly the ship jerked to the port side, cutting off his words. An alarm blared, and a violent dip snapped Talon’s head back against his seat. He slid his axe back into his harness, as B’Turo grabbed the controls in a white-knuckled grip.
“Was that another—” Talon began, but B’Turo cut him off with a string of swearing.
“Negative,” the old man snapped, after the barrage of curses left his mouth. “That alarm is a seismographic sensor. A shockwave is moving towards us, underground. A big one.”
The ship's hull rattled around them. Talon consulted the sensor readings blinking on the panel in front of his seat. “There’s a surge of heat, radiating beneath us!” he shouted.
“That’s what I was afraid of,” B’Turo shouted back.
“Is it one of those worms?” Talon asked.
“The worms don’t generate that much heat. Besides, this shockwave is way too big. This is something worse. Divert power to the thrusters, I’m gonna have to pull up the skates!”
“What are you talking about, old man?”
B'Turo pointed out the cockpit window. "See for yourself, kid!"
Talon looked up. The vast white plain beyond the cockpit began to break up and shatter. A spiderweb of glowing orange cracks wove a path between the crumbling sheets of ice. The cracks grew brighter, sending billowing clouds of steam into the air.
“Orion’s blazing bow! Is that—” Talon began.
“Lava!” B’Turo shouted back. “We’re right on top of a volcanic eruption. Switching to thruster power. Retracting skates now!”
The craft wobbled as the glowing energy fields that propelled it across the ice dimmed. The twin field projectors retracted into the wings with a loud thunk. The ship groaned as it struggled to gain altitude. The cracks beneath them grew larger. A flow of lava poured over the frozen landscape, melting the ice and covering the ground in a molten glow.
The frozen ground split, sending the sheets of ice tumbling down into a vast, fiery crevasse. Smoke poured up, filling the surrounding air. Beads of sweat broke out on the two men’s foreheads, as the ship’s engines sputtered and the tiny craft dipped into the abyss.
“Detaro!” The old man cursed in his native tongue. “The thrusters on this ship are a piece of sh—”
“Just keep her level,” Talon shouted. “I can get you more power. “
“What the hell are you—” B’Turo looked up in surprise, as Talon unbuckled his harness and leapt from his seat.
A thundering roar echoed through the ship. The smoking crater beneath them grew larger, as more fiery rocks broke away and tumbled into the lava sea. Red-hot streams of molten rock burst out around them, and smoke streamed into the cockpit. B’Turo cursed and darted the tiny craft sideways, barely avoiding another plume of lava that shot up beneath them.
The engines continued to cough and sputter. The ship sank lower, unable to climb fast enough as the volcano erupted beneath them.
Talon staggered across the tiny deck and crashed into the rear wall of the cockpit as the ship lurched through the air. He grabbed a gray metal panel and tugged, digging his fingertips under the loose flap of metal.
The panel tore open with a shriek. A series of glowing power relays ran in a column, recessed into the walls of the skimmer. Talon braced himself as the ship swung side to side. An orange glow filled the cabin. Glancing over his shoulder, Talon saw an enormous column of lava erupt in their path. B’Turo swung the controls to the left and the ship tilted vertically, streaking along the side of the burning column of fire.
Talon grabbed the relay box as his body flew sideways. They cleared the lava explosion, and the ship righted itself. He felt his feet slam back down on the deck.
B’Turo glanced back at him. “We’re losing altitude. Whatever you’re planning, do it quick!”
Talon unslung his axe and powered up the blade. “On my mark, set thrusters to maximum!” he shouted.
“Unless we get more power, they’ll burnout, and—”
“I’ll get you the power! Just do it!”
Talon swung the axe through the air. Sparks exploded from the relays, as the fiery blade slashed through the metal. The lights in the cockpit flickered and dimmed, and the controls faded. Then, with a loud hum, they glowed back to life.
Turning off the blade with his thumb, he glanced towards the cockpit. A sea of fire filled the transparent dome, rushing towards them as the ship fell deeper into the crater.
“Now!” he shouted. “Full power!”
B’Turo yanked back on the throttle lever. The engines sputtered again, then roared to life… the hull groaned and buckled, but the tiny craft gained altitude, and pulled away from the fiery pit.
B’Turo laughed as they flew over another plume of lava. “You did it! How—”
Talon struggled to make his way back to his seat, as the tiny vessel shuddered in the turbulent air. “I noticed the relays had built-in safeguards. Power reserves, for systems we won’t need on this journey.”
B’Turo cocked his head and shot Talon a sideways glance. “That’s why you cut through those relays… killing those systems gave us a power boost. Not bad for a gladiator.”
Talon threw himself into his seat, and buckled the harness around his body. He glared at B’Turo with his crimson eye. “And your piloting is decent for an old miner. You must have—”
A new alarm wailed as the vessel soared over the lava field. This one was louder and higher pitched than before. “Now what?” Talon grunted.
“Mazza kufa!” The curse exploded from the old man’s weathered lips as he glanced down at the holo-display. “Weapon systems locking on to our engine’s plasma trail!”
“Weapons?
What weapons?”
B’Turo threw the ship into a spiraling dive, plunging back towards the frozen white surface. “We’re in Zigra territory! When we boosted power to the engines we must have climbed too high, triggered their sensor fields! Our only chance now is to hug the ground. Make them lose the signal before they launch—”
The high-pitched wail increased in intensity. A pair of glowing red dots blinked to life behind their craft, streaking towards them at incredible speed.
“Too late,” Talon muttered. “Can you evade them?”
B’Turo did not answer. He clenched his jaw, as he tilted the skimmer’s wings left and right. The tiny craft pitched and yawed through the air, as the red dots streaked closer.
WHOOSH!
B’Turo spun the skimmer into a sharp, banked turn, throwing Talon sideways in his chair. As the right wing tipped up, Talon glimpsed a shimmering blur through the cockpit window. It streaked past them and exploded in the distance, filling the transparent dome with a blinding flash of light.
The second red dot adjusted its heading on the holo-display, following the erratic course of their tiny ship.
“Ionized gas projectile,” B’Turo shouted. “We didn’t fly over any bunkers or structure… There must be automated railgun turrets hidden in the ice!”
The second red dot sped closer on the display. “There’s still one on our tail,” Talon snapped.
“Better than two! Hold on…”
The old man threw the ship into a steep dive, skimming low across the gleaming ice. The proximity alarm continued to wail, as the red dot shifted and followed them on the display.
“We need to find cover!” Talon shouted. He peered out the domed glass, scanning the jagged ice formations below the tiny ship. “There,” he said, pointing out the window. “There’s a canyon in the ice, on your port side!”
“I see it. I may be old, but my eyes still work,” B’Turo drawled.
Yanking back on the controls, he spiraled the ship up, then plunged down into a narrow channel that gouged through the frozen planet’s surface. The edges of the chasm were only a few meters away from the skater's wingtips.
The ship bobbed up and down, darting through the massive ice formations that lay in their path. On the screen, the projectile rushed closer…
The skimmer rattled, as a wingtip scraped against the wall of the ice canyon.
"The canyon’s getting smaller," B’Turo said, glancing at the readout on his screen. "We have to—"
Before he could finish his sentence, a second red dot blinked to life behind them. It hung farther back, as the first projectile closed the gap between them.
B’Turo threw the ship sideways, flying it vertically through the shimmering ice trench. Talon braced himself, as the glowing bolt streaked past them, and impacted on the side of the chasm.
As B’Turo leveled out the ship, the explosion threw a white haze of ice and snow into the air. The fragments pelted the cockpit, and blocked the view of the trench for a few seconds.
As they cleared the dust cloud, Talon’s eyes opened wide with surprise. A forest of ice crystals came into focus. Each gleaming, jagged spire was larger than the ship itself.
“Look out!” Talon gasped. B’Turo sucked in his breath, but said nothing. He grit his teeth, clenching the shaking controls as he forced the skimmer into a tight turn between two of the spires. The hull of the tiny craft scraped against the ice. The proximity alarm screamed as the second projectile rushed towards them.
“Brace yourself, this is gonna be—”
WHOOSH!
B’Turo jerked forward in his seat, as the glowing bolt slammed into the port wing. Talon heard the shriek of tearing metal, and sparks flew from the power relays behind them. Tendrils of acrid smoke wafted into the cockpit.
“B’Turo, I think we lost the engine on this side!” Talon gasped, coughing for breath as the smoke thickened.
He glanced over at the old man. B’Turo hung slouched in his chair. A smear of blood streaked across his controls. The holo-display flickered and buzzed out of resolution.
The ship wobbled in the air, dropping closer to the canyon floor.
Talon unbuckled his harness and reached over for the controls. As his fingers grazed the control stick, the ship dipped down to the right, throwing him across the cockpit. He grunted as he struck the smoking sidewall. The air screamed past them as they slipped to subsonic speeds.
Blinking in the haze-filled air, he glanced at his display. It was still glowing bright, and he could see the altitude reading dropping lower and lower…
“By the haunted stars,” he grunted. “How many times must I crash on this blasted planet?”
Reaching forward, he grabbed the arm of his chair. Cords of muscles in his biceps and forearms rippled as he fought against the forces pinning him to the wall.
He managed to pull himself in front of the cockpit and glanced out the dome. Another series of ice crystals loomed ahead of them. Bracing himself against his chair, he threw up an arm, as the ship crashed through the glittering spires. A web of cracks spread across the transparent dome, but it held.
As they dipped closer to the ice, he could see they were flying almost vertically again. The starboard wing was completely torn away… only the skate pod and air intake section were intact. All thrust was being provided by the port engine, and it wasn’t enough to lift them out of the chasm. He felt his stomach leap into his throat as the ship dropped lower. The ground raced beneath him, a blur of jagged ice and snow.
His eyes darted over B’Turo’s control panel. Half the displays were blinking, or dark. As the ship lurched again, he spotted a lever with a glowing red symbol next to it.
The energy skates!
He yanked the lever down. A red glow lit up under the skimmer. With a loud hum, the curved energy field extended from the skate pod, forming a V with the torn wing.
Talon threw himself back into his chair. The ground rushed closer. They would touch down any second…
He reached back for the harness, fumbling to click the restraints in place.
Before he could make contact, the jagged metal at the edge of the wing tore into the ice.
Talon flew forward, slamming into the cockpit dome. His head snapped back, smashing into the bulkhead with a loud thud.
The energy skate cut a path through the ice, and the ship continued to speed forward across the floor of the chasm. As the ship tore through another row of ice crystals, a black haze crept in around Talon’s vision. He fell to the ground, and looking up, all he could see was the bright white ice outside, reflecting the blinding rays of the sun overheard into white-hot points of light.
Then the darkness closed in, choking away the white light. He slipped into unconsciousness, oblivious to the ground rumbling by outside.
Chapter Twenty
Makor marched down the long, dark corridor, flanked on either side by an armored security guard. The men’s pulse rifles were fully charged, and their barrels glowed with crimson indicator lights. They were set to maximum power.
The aquatic alien carried no weapon. But as he approached the sliding door at the far end of the hall, he glanced down at a tiny scanner he held in his left hand. The screen showed a live feed from the cameras hidden in the girl’s quarters. It showed her sitting in front of the bathroom mirror, brushing her wet hair. She set down the brush, and undid the long purple braid that ran down the side of her face. She set the silvery wire and gems that bound her hair on the counter, then resumed running the brush though her short, dark tresses.
Makor clipped the scanner to his belt, then made a twisting motion with the stump of his right arm. The lens mounted to his flesh glowed to life. An orange plasma field flowed through the air, forming the shape of an arm. He glanced down at the energy limb, watching with intent fascination as he opened and closed his glowing fingers.
The appendage was a part of him, controlled by his thoughts. But he felt no sensation through the fiery tendrils that formed his
fingers. Not the cold chill of the frigid air, or the heat of blood rushing from an enemy’s wounds… it was a phantom limb, a gift from Katara for his loyal service. And like her, it was cold and unfeeling.
He closed the plasma hand into a fist.
What I have lost… what was taken from me… is now my source of strength, he thought.
They paused in front of the door.
Makor turned to one of the guards. “The girl is in her bath chamber. Shoot her on sight. Then, bring the body to the bio-lab. If we act quickly, the queen’s scientists may still be able to extract useful material for the bio harvesters. Is that understood?”
The guard nodded. “Yes sir.”
There was a quiet hum as the two guards flicked the safeties on their rifles to the firing position. Makor held his plasma arm in front of the door’s sensors. A series of blazing digits appeared in the air above his outstretched fingers. A beam from the control panel mounted next to the door glowed to life. It scanned the floating numbers, then beeped in acknowledgement.
“SECURITY OVERRIDE AUTHORIZED.”
The door hissed open. The two guards surged forward, charging into the room and sweeping left and right with their rifles. As they rushed into the bathroom, Makor narrowed his yellow eyes, and glanced at the wall across from the bed. The room’s holo-screen had been torn down and disassembled. A gnarled mass of wires and brackets protruded from the port in the wall. Discarded components and plastic molding lay in a pile on the floor.
A barrage of pulse fire echoed from the bathroom. When the high-pitched whine of the energy bolts faded, a voice called out. “Uh, sir?”
Makor stepped through the door into the tiny room. The two guards stood with their rifles aimed at the girl, Vaki. She sat on a stool, with a diaphanous kimono robe draped over her body. Her slim hand continued to move the brush through her hair, as if oblivious to the men in the room. She did not look up, or acknowledge them in any way.
A series of charred black holes dotted the counter in front of her. Scorch marks from the men’s pulse weapons…
