by A A Warren
One of the armored men shoved Dione with the butt of a rifle. The merchant stumbled forward and peered inside the coffin. Instead of mummified remains, he saw four silver orbs, blinking and pulsing with lights and circuitry. Each one was the size of a man’s head, and they sat nestled in a row, hidden within the ancient stone container.
“What… what are they?” Dione asked in a shaky voice.
Volonte reached in and withdrew one of the orbs. The lights studding its surface seemed to glow brighter as he held it up to his face. “Weapons. Ancient, powerful… unstoppable. I have searched these desolate stars for an eternity seeking objects such as these.”
He gently lowered the sphere, placing it back into the stone coffin. Dulkar, the sorcerer placed his arm on Volonte’s shoulder. “They are the key, My Lord. The key to your past… and to my future.”
Before Volonte could respond, a voice crackled through the speaker in his wrist unit.
“Captain! The tech, Orvane… he fled the ship! He took two of the statues with him!”
The hulking brute curled his fingers into a fist. “That sniveling, traitorous coward! We cannot afford to waste time with this delay, not when we are so close! If the Order of the Blue Star catches on to what we are—”
“My Lord,” Dulkar hissed. “Perhaps, we can use the Order to our advantage. They are skilled in hunting down fugitives, are they not?”
Volonte narrowed his glowing red eyes. “Yes… what of it?”
“They outnumber us by a great margin,” Dulkar continued, as he floated over to Dione. “It is likely they can locate Orvane faster than we could. If we provide them with the proper incentive, of course.”
The sorcerer’s hands swirled through the air. A spiral of glowing symbols spun around his body, like burning ash caught in a whirlwind. He began to shift and morph, changing shape and size. Dione took a step back. He bumped into the cold metal door of the vault… there was nowhere left to run.
Standing before him, the sorcerer had taken on a new appearance… a tall, gangly alien, with a pair of huge, glowing orange eyes. Thick, gray lips curled back, revealing a mass of gnarled fangs.
Volonte chuckled. “It would appear, Dione, that you can still be useful to us.”
The merchant nodded. “Yes, yes,” he stuttered. “I’ll do whatever I can to help, I swear.”
The terrifying alien’s grin grew wider. “I am so pleased to hear that, fleshling…” The creature raised a hand, and a series of razor-sharp claws emerged from its curled fingers.
Dione’s scream echoed through the bowels of the ship, as the hooked talons slashed towards him.
Chapter Two
PLANET GESA
The Gyre, Wild Space
A few weeks later…
Talon threw back his glass and guzzled the last drops of ale from the bottom. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he threw the glass across the tavern. The tumbling mug struck the wall behind the curved bar, several meters away. The bartender ducked as the empty glass shattered above his head.
His colorful feathers bristled in anger, and his beak opened wide, screeching a string of unintelligible curses. Talon laughed, and gave the alien a bemused shrug. He couldn’t understand the clicks and warbles of the creature’s tongue. And even if he could, the pulsing beat of the music made it impossible to hear anything beyond the grunts and catcalls of the nearby patrons.
The bartender uttered one last squawk, then wiped down the counter with a wet rag. Talon turned back to the dancer before him. Her hips writhed, and her long, dark hair brushed across his face as she bent over him. He heard her laugh, a low chuckle whispered in his ear. Then she pulled away as a glow sphere hovered above them.
Her jeweled girdle and silk loin cloth left little to the imagination, revealing copious amounts of blue speckled skin. Her taut flesh sparkled with a dusting of fiber-optic glitter. As she danced, the tiny particles reflected the light from the glow sphere overhead. A mosaic of stars seemed to crawl across her body as she raised her arms and twirled.
Talon shot a quick glance around the tavern. The dim, cavernous dome was packed with men, women, and aliens of indeterminate sex. Most of the crowd wore frayed, tattered clothes. Their garments were stained and faded by traces of the frigilox gas that wafted from the surface of the planet below. Many wore armored vests, and carried pulse pistols in low-slung holsters. Known as the Silver Sobek, the establishment had a reputation for attracting thugs, smugglers, and other unsavory characters in this region of space.
None of the patrons seemed to pay him any mind. A group of men at a nearby table threw down handfuls of colorful crystal chips, as a holographic disk spun in the smoky air above them. Others seemed captivated by the other dancers gyrating on glowing pedestals throughout the tavern.
The dancing girl straddled Talon in his chair. Her delicate fingers grabbed his chin, and she turned his head to face her. He felt two more of her arms reach behind him. One caressed his hair, while the other gently massaged his shoulder. Her fourth hand stroked a long, golden chain that looped around her neck. The shimmering necklace wound around her several times, and dangled between her breasts.
She was Arachnean, and her eyes glowed a bright purple as she flashed him a sly grin. Her tiny pink tongue darted between curved fangs, and wetted her lips. “What’s the matter, warrior?” she asked. “My dancing bore you?”
Talon grinned back, and grabbed her waist in his hands. The crimson jewel in his eye flashed, glowing in the faint light above. “Not at all,” he replied. “But I seem to be out of ale.”
All four of her hands caressed his body as she rolled her head back, letting her mane of black hair fall behind her. Writhing to the music, she clenched him tighter between her legs, and swayed her body back and forth. Then she grabbed his shoulder, and pulled her face back to his. He felt one of her hands slide down his chest, tracing the lines of the green claw tattoo that marked his skin. She stopped at his belt… Her fingers darted to the leather pouch that hung at his side, checking its weight.
“You have plenty chips, warrior... Why not you book me for private dance?” She leaned closer, pressing her bosom to his chest. “My room has wine, ale, refreshments…. Anything you need to quench your thirst.”
Talon threw back his head and laughed. He stood up, and the dancing girl gasped as he hefted her into the air. His broad-shouldered, muscular body towered over most of the nearby patrons. “Why not indeed!” he bellowed. “In Nitara’s name, that’s the best idea I’ve heard all day!”
Talon slung the giggling girl over his shoulder and pushed his way through the crowd. One of the armored ruffians at the gaming table shot him a surly glance, and slid his hand towards his gun belt. But he soon lost interest, as the glowing wheel of light indicated a new winner, and the table erupted into a chorus of shouts and cheers.
Talon carried the girl to a flickering blue force field that blocked an exit in the darkened rear portion of the tavern. A pair of guards flanked the energy barrier. They were both human, and both out of shape. The plates of their body armor struggled to contain their bulging bellies, and flabby arms. But each man cradled a heavy pulse rifle, with plasma bayonets mounted to their barrels. Talon knew a single pull of either trigger could send dozens of pulse bolts screaming through the air.
He set the girl down and glared impatiently at the guards. “The lady and I have business,” he grunted. “Let us pass.”
The men’s beady eyes leered at the half-naked dancing girl, as she grabbed Talon’s hand in one of hers. She whispered in one of the men’s ears. He looked up at Talon and held out his hand.
“I give them cut,” she said. “You pay me now, okay?”
Talon narrowed his eyes at the closest guard. Then he shrugged and unclipped the leather coin pouch from his belt.
“Aye, so long as there are no more guards with their hands out along the way,” he grumbled. He handed the pouch to the girl. Her glowing eyes opened wide, as the leather bag jingled in her ha
nd. She opened it and fished out two shimmering crystals. She slipped the gems into the guards’ hands, then tossed the bag into the air, catching it with another of her four hands.
The guard inspected the engravings on the crystal coin, then nodded. He turned and tapped the controls on the wall. The glowing field hummed, then faded out.
The girl pulled Talon forward. “Come on, big spender. My name is Dita. Follow me, I give you a show you won’t forget!”
He let her drag him down the corridor. Dim glow spheres in the ceiling cast a warm, faint light that barely pierced the shadows of the narrow passageway. She tugged him past a series of dura-plas doors, set beneath colored glow spheres. The brilliant hues of the glowing orbs cast pools of color over the doors. They stepped past a green door, then orange, pink, blue…
Talon stopped in front of a dura-plas panel bathed in crimson light. “My thirst is getting the better of me,” he said, pulling her towards him. “What’s wrong with this room?”
“That not my color,” she said, her eyes staring up at him in confusion. “My door is yellow.”
“Red is my lucky color,” he said with a grin. “It matches my eye.”
She gave him a seductive smile, and brushed one of her hands across his cheek. “Whatever you say, handsome. For what you pay, you get any room you want.” She held one of her arms up to the door. A gem on her wrist bangle glowed, and the panel slid open. She gently pulled him inside.
“Lights,” she said as they entered the dark room. A floating glow sphere lit up, casting a warm pink light over the sparse chamber. The room was carved from rock, like the rest of the building. A circular bed filled the center of the chamber, and rows of colorful bottles filled some shelves against the wall. Aside from that, the place was devoid of furnishing.
Two of Dita’s arms snaked around Talon’s neck, while the other two fiddled with the buckles on his battle harness. “Why don’t you make yourself comfortable?” she whispered. Then she pressed her lips to his.
Talon kissed her back, but he pulled her hands away from his harness. She broke off the embrace, and gave him a quizzical look. “You not get undressed?”
Talon glanced to his right. There was another door in the wall, connecting to an adjoining room.
“No need to rush,” he said. “Perhaps we could share a drink first.”
She laughed, and brushed her dark hair back. “Whatever you like.” She strutted over to the bottles and selected a purple bottle from the shelf. The bangles on her wrists chimed as she held up two glasses. She tipped the bottle, filling one glass, then the other. “You must be shy, eh? A little Dominion wine will help with that, I think.”
Talon ignored her. He ran his hand along to the wall next to the door, then pressed his ear to the rock. He heard faint laughter from the other room.
“These rooms are connected?” he asked, his crimson eye glowing in the faint light.
Dita returned and held up a glass for him. “Yes, in case we need to visit another client.” She took a sip of her wine and pretended to pout. “Why you ask? I not enough for you?”
Talon did not take the glass she offered him. Instead he drew the shaft of his plasma axe from his harness. “Who is in the room next door?” All traces of mirth left his voice. His face had a hard, grim look, and his jaw was tense.
Dita saw the look in his eyes, and took a step back. “Hey, I just dancer here. I don’t want trouble!”
Talon guided her away from the door. “I know, I’ll protect you. Just tell me, Dita. Who uses the room with the blue door? Is it Nepha? The Voraxian girl, the one with two heads and three—”
“Yes,” Dita said, nodding her head. “How you know Nepha? She dance for you?”
“No,” Talon grunted. “Nepha is Sukal’s favorite girl. I watched her bring him back here earlier.”
Dita paced back and forth. “Sukal Daedoma? He bad for business! Outlaw, bandit… I don’t want trouble, you should go.”
Talon put a protective hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry Dita, it’s too late for that now. He nodded towards the bed. “Get under there, now. Don’t come out until the shooting stops.”
Dita dropped the glasses, letting them shatter on the floor. She took a step backwards. “Shooting? Now there’s shooting? What you going to do?”
“Sukal is a wanted man, with a hefty price on his head.” Talon thumbed the activator on the axe’s hilt. The plasma blade ignited, and his crimson eye reflected its blazing glow. “I’ve come to collect the bounty. Dead, or alive.”
Chapter Three
Dita scampered across the room and ducked behind the bed. Talon stood beside the door and pressed his back against the wall. He reached out and knocked on the Dura-Plus panel. “Sukal Daedoma! The Order of the Blue Star has placed a bounty on your head. If you come quietly, I will spare your—”
ZARK!!!
A barrage of pulse-fire tore through the thin panel and streaked across the room. Dita screamed and rolled under the massive bed, as the wall of colorful bottles exploded into sparkling fragments. Talon winced as bits of molten metal and plastic flew past his face. He leaned away from the smoking door, keeping clear as more energy bolts shot through.
A few seconds later, the firing stopped. The only sound was the trickle of spilled alcohol, dripping to the floor. Talon glanced behind him, making sure Dita was safely under the bed. Then he drew a pulse pistol from his belt.
Leaping in front of the door, he slashed at the charred panel with his axe. The fiery blade hummed and wailed as it tore the perforated panel in half. The door crumbled to pieces and Talon opened fire with the pistol, sending a barrage of energy bolts into the adjoining room.
He heard a woman scream, and he ceased firing. A beautiful Voraxian girl lay on the bed, clutching a sheet to her body with a white-knuckled grip. One of her heads gazed at Talon in wide-eyed panic. The other turned to face a shattered window in the far wall. A trio of smoking holes glowed in the headboard above her.
Talon stepped into the room and glanced down at the terrified girl. “Nepha I presume?”
She nodded, pulling the sheet tighter against her body.
“Apologies for startling you, milady.” He gave her an awkward bow.
Both the girl’s heads gawked at him in surprise as he charged across the room and leaned out the window.
The shattered viewing portal looked out over the lower deck of the complex. Droplets of rain fell from above, and a light fog filled the air. He caught a glimpse of a shadowy, furtive figure, rushing cross the stone walkway a few meters below. Talon aimed his pistol and fired, but he was too late. His shots struck the stones just behind the man, as he darted around the bend of the circular walkway.
“Iberon’s harem,” Talon cursed. He leapt out the window and plunged to the ground. Landing in a crouch, he sprinted after the fleeing man, like a jungle cat running down its prey. His footsteps pounded across the stone walkway, as the droplets of rain pattered against his skin. To his right, a low metal railing was the only thing separating him from a deadly fall into the endless orange cloud of gas.
The tavern, like all buildings on Gesa, was built into a towering spire of rock, hundreds of kilometers above the planet’s surface. The valuable frigilox gas, used in the coolant systems of starships, was toxic to breathe. The dense blanket of noxious vapor clung to the planet’s surface, like a sea of poisonous gas.
The rumble of thunder filled the air, and a jagged bolt of lightning tore across the purple skies above. The upper levels of Gesa’s atmosphere were engulfed in a near constant maelstrom. The storms produced bands of thick clouds, and the deadly lightening was powerful enough to knock ships out of the sky. Sandwiched between the storms' fury and the sea of poison gas, the rock spires occupied a narrow wedge of habitable space on the desolate planet.
The rain soaked Talon’s hair as he raced around the walkway. He cleared the bulbous dome of the tavern, and found himself on the building’s flight deck. Thin metal struts anchored the semi-ci
rcular platform to the rocks. It was too small for a starship, but it allowed smaller atmospheric vehicles and flying mounts to land at the complex. A pair of jet bikes sat at the edge of the platform, parked next to a row of cargo haulers.
A loud, braying screech echoed through the air, drowning out the rain and thunder. As Talon raced across the ground, he saw a gang of leather-clad wing riders, struggling to tie off the harness of an enraged razor-wing. The large beast flapped its leathery wings as it tried to take off. Four burly men with gang tattoos pulled it back to the platform.
Talon narrowed his eyes… his target, Sukal Daedoma, raced past the gang and the thrashing beast. Sukal was a tall, muscular human male. His skin had the pale, clammy look of one who spent most of his life in deep space. His shaved head was decorated with an intricate crimson tattoo… the mark of Red Nova, a criminal syndicate that sponsored his illegal activities.
“Sukal!” Talon shouted, raising his pistol. “You’re wanted dead or alive…. Which will it be?”
The man glanced over his shoulder as he raced to the edge of the platform. He fired a wild blast from his pistol. Talon ducked as the shots sizzled past his head. He returned fire, but his bolts thudded into one of the nearby jet bikes. The vehicle’s rear engine exploded, sending a billowing cloud of smoke and sparks into the air.
Sukal mounted the other bike. Talon dodged left and right as the outlaw fired again, sending a barrage of glowing bolts into the stones around his feet. Then the bike’s engine roared to life. The vehicle lifted off the platform, tearing fuel lines and coolant hoses as it rose into the sky.
Talon muttered a silent curse and changed course, sprinting towards the bucking razor-wing. Shoving the nearest gang member to the ground, Talon leapt onto the back of the winged beast and slid his feet into the stirrups of its saddle.
