The Game of the Millennium: A Novel

by James Martin

  The captain would like an explanation as to why it was necessary to destroy the ear buds. . . They could’ve been sold.

  Astraos scratched his head, staring at the controls. “Let’s do this.”

  Jaziel replied to herself, “Maybe I should start—”

  Pilox grunted again. Jaziel was drop-dead-gorgeous by anyone’s standards, except for a cheshir. They liked them much more plump with massive hips, and interestingly enough, hairless; however, Pilox was opening up to the idea, having no one aboard that met his particular requirements. He remained undecided, thus this distinct grunt.

  The captain has started a count down. Be prepared in 3. . . 2. . . 1

  The drive was ejected. . .

  Macellus strangled the flight controls, anticipating the explosion and ready to reverse thrust.

  The object twirled and twirled. Astraos started to panic. “I can’t see it. I—I—”

  The captain has expressed a desire for this to be done already.

  Lauren spotted it and in the midst of the star’s chaotic surface, she unstrapped herself.

  Astraos, in his panic, started to look everywhere in the viewing port and saw, from the corner of his eye, Lauren rushing at him. He took a deep breath. Nate once said that I must be able to let go when defeated. He let the controls go and swayed his massive figure to the side to give her as much room as possible.

  Lauren dived at the controls, remembering a flight simulator her father forced her to use and practice on one summer: Maybe, one day, you’ll want to be a pilot. You never know. While, the pilot idea never came to be, the never know part just happened to be enforced on a spaceship thousands of light years away from home. She smiled to the memory of her father and gave him some credit, because in the end, he saved his daughter.

  She wiggled the controls to see the amount of sensitivity it had. She spotted the canister again, twirling through space. It felt as if the room hit pause, breaths held, molecules no longer vibrating, her heartbeat slowed to almost a standstill. She moved the controls and locked on to the target. She pulled the trigger as a uniformed scream came from everyone on the bridge.

  Boom.

  Macellus, mouth half-open, saw the explosion, frame by frame, the energy pouring out and about to knock them out of this star’s gravitational stranglehold. He hit the thrusters, slammed on the yoke and prayed to his pantheon of gods. Mainly Jigabo, the master of luck and tricks.

  The shockwave steamrolled the ship. They rode it, flying on it as they were almost pulled into the gravitational orbit of the planet nearest the monster star.

  As the explosion was felt, Lauren almost flew out of the main area of the bridge and into the steel door. Astraos grabbed her by the waist just before she flew out and placed her on his lap—heat washed over his body; he could not hide his growing excitement.

  “Waaaaaaawhoooo!” yelled Macellus as they flung out of the star’s grasp.

  Ambassador Jaziel reached a hand to Pilox, caressing his cheek.

  Astraos quickly disengaged his straps and ran with Lauren in his arms. He could not contain his eagerness or need to copulate.

  Jaziel grabbed Pilox’s hand and he made a slight grunt. He was resigned to mate with a being he found undesirable because of the growing need for satisfaction after a near-death experience that did not involve him directly fighting or contributing in any manner.

  Macellus said to himself, “Wooooooho baby, what a shot. Who did that?” He looked behind to find the bridge evacuated of sentient beings and laughed. “Poor Pilox, he’s never fought such a battle.”

  Nate and Kat came rushing up to the bridge. “We made it.”

  “Yeah, we did.”

  “Where is everyone?”

  “Um, you know, finding themselves.”

  “Eh?”

  “Um, you know, finding themselves through each other. A lot of sweat and touching and uh, moaning—”

  “I get the picture.” Nate looked to Kat who bit her lip slightly. He wanted to throw her down as well but. . . could not bring himself to do so. “I’ll help you check out the controls.”

  Kat sighed. “I’ll check on our star-fueled accelerator.” She walked away and could be heard saying, “What a fool.”

  Macellus gave a sidelong glance at Nate.

  “Don’t even start with me.”

  Macellus put his hands up in surrender.

  Some are too thick to save.

  Galactic Calendar - 1258789 - Feels Like Summer, Still

  Transmission Incoming. . .

  Nate put down the bottle of vintage whiskey he snagged from Earth. He had four bottles of champagne too, which he knew would knock Kat off her seat. The carbonation creates a euphoric high for ezons, close to what marijuana does for humans. A devil’s grin ran through his face at the prospect.

  Connected.

  The screen projected a hologram of Princess Wooshuda.

  “Wooshuda, what brings you here?”

  “Captain. . . You seem well.”

  He clicked his mouth and looked to the side. “Your missions are never boring.”

  “Looks to be a success.”

  “Yeah. . . Well. . . Maybe?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know damn well what you were up to.”

  “Making you go on his ship?”

  “You can call him by his name, Mako.”

  “He’s dead?”

  “He was stiff for a moment then scattered in space.”

  “Oh?”

  “Tell me the first part and I’ll tell you the second.”

  She shook her head and snorted. “I have hundreds of assassins and nobles and other royalty that pester me for information, and I never seem to divulge as much as I do with a captain of an old ship.”

  “You know her name, don’t talk to Mariah that way unless you want this transmission to end.”

  Thank you, Captain Nathan.

  “Fine. Fine. Don’t get so testy. I lost a few spies getting the information you acted on. We had reason to believe that he, or Mako rather, was being controlled by the katros.”

  “Mmmmhmm.”

  “We did not know to what ends.”

  “You’re not saying everything.”

  “You’re not saying anything.”

  “Okay. . . I’ll bite. There was a katros in control of Mako. Junkalopasic, sound familiar?”

  “Of Family Klan. . .”

  “Hmm?”

  “We know they hold the sector—” She took a breath; Nate could see her eyes look up, pondering something. “Let me guess, the Ambassador of Geitaro was there.”

  He chuckled. “You’re pretty good. What else?”

  “You are making a Princess of Maseen work for it, huh?”

  He popped open the bottle of whiskey—“Cheers”—down the hatch, wiping his mouth afterward.

  “They would have lured and killed her in order to throw the plythiens into riots and civil war thereby enhancing the human slaves stock value. Normally, their ambassador dying would not have done much and the plythiens are protected as the workmen of the galaxy, but this one, Jaziel, has a way about her. She hinted that her extermination came with a fail-safe. She thought it would protect her and give her leverage with any species that relies on the plythiens. We would be forced to save her or be cast into riots and civil war, ourselves. We would have to make contracts with the katros, and well, it still may not have adverted a civil war. That’s why I sent you.”

  “Fair.” She had disclosed more information than necessary, making him feel like a part of the ‘team.’ He knew the game, the tricks and offerings that hid true intentions, so he debated on what to give her. He figured he could learn more by offering something. “They tricked her with the location of Station XI’s owner.”

  Her lips thinned but she nodded. He took it as his queue to go on, “Mako defied them in the end. We have the location.”

  “Where is he?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  �
��Excuse me?”

  “The job was to deliver the cargo to him. I did that and more. What I do after is my own prerogative.”

  “Captain Nathan, need I remind you—”

  “What? You’ll go back on your deal? Shoot me out of the sky? You don’t know where I am. Mariah made sure of that. I’m not letting you interfere because I don’t know what you’re going to do. You see, I have trust issues.”

  “Captain Nathan, this is not up for discussion—”

  “It is not. Have a good one.”

  He shut down the transmission, placing his hands on his desk. He sighed full of exasperation with a twinge of possible regret on the rim—the salt of his margarita. “Mariah, I’m never going to be able to fix you, am I?”

  If you are looking for reassurances, you did the right thing, captain, for once. I’m sure there are more loan sharks in the galaxy that will help us out.

  “Yeah. . . That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  He grabbed the bottles and indicated the cabin door with his foot. “Mariah, door.”

  The crew sat around the large table in the center of the room. Nate gestured wildly with his arms. “Ladies and gentlemen”—he held the booze high—“the booze has arrived.”

  He slid the champagne bottle to Lauren first. “To my new gunner.”

  “It was a lucky shot.”

  “Lucky? No one could’ve hit that. You did. How ‘bout it?”

  Lauren stared at the bottle. The first thought that presented itself being: A Dom Perignon bottle? No wonder he can’t afford to keep up with his ship, which made her stifle a laugh. Then the offer hit her, square in the face, an errant ball to the head, she was being asked to be a part of something. And the something was very special and significant to her. Besides deep space voyages and encounters of the third kind, she had not been a part of anything since her father’s passing. She had never been offered to a part of a group of close-knit individuals that operated as a team. Inconceivable.

  This was the most pivotal decision she ever had to make. To do so was to say that she’d given up on Earth, her mom, and friends that never stuck around. She amended the statement in her head, she was never, ever going to give up on Earth. She was accepting her new path, and from what she’d seen, they were in amidst of something grandiose and bigger than Earth.

  If she asked her mother about this, packing up and running with a crew that traversed the stars, her mother might say no and argue that she needed to be with her own kind and find a life on Earth. . . but that would only be for show. She knew, somewhere in there, her mother would be the one rooting for her.

  It was settled. There wasn’t a damn thing she could do about Earth down below, but there were planets and people that she could save gallivanting across the galaxy and potentially find a way to free what she once called home.

  Being on this spaceship, she was infused with the energy of the people around her. The whole crew had that go get’em personality along with their courage, strength, heart and soul. She let that spirit course through her and drive her next decision, she took the champagne bottle and slid it to the left, looking up at Astraos. “How ‘bout it?”

  Nate stood rigid from shock, not because of her offering Astraos a spot on the crew, but because he had intended to do so after her response (which he was hoping to be an affirmative). He felt proud of Lauren’s bold act that would have seemed impossible for her to do mere days ago. He mentally patted himself on the back. Good job.

  Astraos tried to hide the glee that was spreading through him. He figured Nate was going to offer him a spot right after, given that his Earth travels were cut short. He would never tell Lauren (not until later), that if she had declined he was going to follow her, wherever, whenever, to the death bed.

  He smirked, grabbed it, and gestured toward Nate. “How ‘bout it? Got room for another?”

  Nate laughed, his rugged face became younger in the moment. “Of course.” He looked around, slid one bottle to Kat and the other to Macellus. They all rose from their chairs and clanked the bottles together. All in unison, they said, “Cheers”—in their respective languages.

  Everyone sat back down and joined in separate conversations. Nate became the new object of interest for Jaziel—Kat keeping a watchful eye on all proceedings. She walked over next to him, touching his chest.

  “If I had known someone with your looks was onboard, I would’ve taken you to your cabin instead.”

  Nate glanced over at Kat who stared daggers at him briefly, then joined in on a conversation with Macellus, Lauren, and Astraos. He ignored her comment. “What are we looking at in terms of a reward? The ship needs a new warp drive.”

  “Once you drop me off at Station XI, you have my word, I will arrange a meet for you to get a new drive and be compensated handsomely.” She stroked his chest again. “I will make the utmost effort for it to be in person.”

  “We’re not going anywhere, sister.”

  “Excuse you?”

  “We’re seeing this through. We’ll meet the owner with you and get you back to Geitaro.”

  “You have no warp drive.”

  “There’s a gate not far.”

  “You cannot be swayed in this decision?” She stroked his chest once more and batted her eyes.

  ”Nope. Let’s get back to the party.”

  Everyone talked and smiled and laughed and drank. They had to. There weren’t many nights like these. As the night dwindled on, she laid her head on his shoulder and fell asleep.

  “Going to take her to bed?” Nate was merely playing around, seeing what he would say.

  “There’s no place I’d rather be right now than with her head on my shoulder and this grin on my face.”

  Nate cheers with his glass and swigged his drink. He muttered to himself in a low tone, “I remember those days.” He headed to bed, for sometimes, this life cut too close to the one he left behind.

  Galactic Calendar - 1258789 - Zolox - Day 297

  She slammed her fists on the desk. “Can you believe that, princess? I did an absolute perfect impression of you. This captain. . . He is insufferable. I certainly agree.” She went over and dinged on the apparatus housed over Princess Wooshuda’s head. “Hello? Yes. Yes. Yes. You’re right. You’re dead! But you know, you weren’t wrong. You just can’t get good help.”

  She tapped on her head again. “Knock. Knock.” She took a step back. “I’m done. It was almost pointless killing you, well, I did learn some things thanks to this magnificent device.” She stroked the device that looked much like a salon’s hair drying chair but with some extra wires and oscillating lights. The machine purged memories stored in the being’s brain and inputted them into the receiver attached to the other person. . . an unfortunate side affect was death. “And well, I guess the call wasn’t pointless, either. I did confirm they are alive and well. . . for now. But, really, can you believe that guy, princess?” She ended the remark with a maniacal laugh, sat down on the desk and kicked up her feet.

  She put her hands in the back of head and sighed. “She’s not going to be pleased. No. No. No. I better just get it over with.”

  Transmission commencing. . .

  A young female appeared on screen with striking features, long red hair with somewhat tanned skin and gray freckles scattered around her face that somehow enhanced her golden eyes. “Malevole.”

  Malevole did a slight nod. “Mistress.”

  “News?”

  “Mako gave them the coordinates to the Station XI owner on a pad, presumably when he perished.”

  “I will speak to Junkalopasick. . .”

  Malevole twiddled her thumbs, waiting for the Mistress to come back. She sniffed the air, decay started to run amuck. She heard a strange sound like the building was being crushed, slowly. “Hmmm.” She looked above and saw the slightest movement within the branches. “Isn’t that a fine twist?”

  Malevole ran quickly to Wooshuda and plugged back in, her death was recent and so her brain was still
active enough to gleam the information she needed.

  “I see. I see. Oh, you dirty little thing, how did you keep this from me?” She hit the instrument. “Bad dead princess. I won’t be consumed by some wood.”

  “Malevole!”

  She rushed back to the desk. “Yes?”

  “Where were you?”

  “Oh, nothing, it appears this palace is being engulfed by the trees around it. I have to get out of here shortly.”

  The Mistress ignored her. “Junkalopasick knew nothing of the pad.”

  “How did Mako get it?”

  The Mistress placed a delicate finger on her temple, letting it slide down her face. “The other players may be involved.”

  “And?”

  “We must execute a gambit.”

  “Search for them?”

  “No. The prophecies may be fluid but none converge on the overseers, just yet. Go to where the crew will most likely be.”

  Malevole thought for a moment, the only place in the galaxy that made sense. “Station XI?”

  The Mistress presumed that Malevole would arrive at the answer; if not, she held no value to her and would be disposed of after she fulfilled her part in the game. She was pleasantly surprised. “I will have a few battlecruisers there for support.”

  “I can handle it.”

  “I would never presume you to fail, because to do so, would end your life. I must make sure Station XI is obliterated and everyone looks to the katros as the ones who did so.”

  Malevole nodded.

  “Malevole, do not fail me.”

  “I never do.”

  Transmission ended.

  She leaned back on the chair, hearing the deliberate crunch of the ceiling above. “I was just getting used to this place.” A wicked grin crossed her lips, she looked to her pitch black staff and the swirling entropy it contained and laughed. “Soon. . . We will get some appropriate satisfaction, years in the making.”

  Galactic Calendar - 1258790 - Cheshir - Day 007

  “What’s it like being royalty?”

  Astraos turned to Lauren, his face almost too close, but the tiny cot wouldn’t have it any other way. He said with indignation, “Not all it’s cracked up to be.”