Spacer Clans Adventure 1: Naero's Run

by Mason Elliott

  “Gallan!” She ran to him and hugged him. She took his hand, jumped up and kissed him on the forehead. “Feeling better?”

  “Much. Glad to see you, too, abani,” he said, grinning. “I came to meet you. They’re going to release the others.”

  “Wouldn’t miss Aunt Sleak’s face when we come to rescue her. The leader of the mining revolt’s letting us go, while he and his people make a break for it.”

  “I take it there’ll be a lot to discuss back on the ship.”

  “You got that right. How are you feeling?”

  “Like a million creds.” He yawned. “Took a nice little rest.”

  “You lazy–”

  A tremendous explosion rocked the entire mountain range.

  Naero and Gallan fell down in shock, along with the guards. More shocks walked in above them, like the pounding of gigantic hammers.

  “Those are a mass driver strikes.” Gallan said. “Triax means to lay waste to this entire region.”

  “They can’t…”

  Gallan’s frown cut her off.

  The Corps put their interests above all law and morality. Spacers and miners would all get mashed together.

  “C’mon,” Naero said, “We need to get the hell out of here.”

  Even as they turned to run, the miners behind them cried out in terror.

  Naero glanced back over her shoulder into the billowing clouds of dust and debris raining down.

  Something dark and menacing ripped through the dust and the miners. Tearing the miners apart before they could fire their weapons. Parts of bodies and gouts of blood spattered in several directions. More guards dropped back and fired their blasters in unison, before whatever it was fell upon them.

  More screams erupted.

  Gallan shoved her in front of him. “Run, Naero. Don’t look back.”

  A whirling howl of bizarre and frightening origin erupted behind them.

  It swept closer. Naero felt a twinge in her head.

  Extreme danger from multiple threats. I must have access to our defensive protocols.

  More strikes hit the mountain range. Worse than before.

  The cavern buckled. The thing behind them and the miners vanished under tons of rock and stone. Naero raced toward the detention center.

  Yet deep within the rubble, it sounded as though something ripped through stone, boring through the very rock of the cave-in itself to pursue them.

  To get at her.

  39

  The blast doors to the detention center opened even as Naero and Gallan ran up to them. Irith and Aunt Sleak rushed out, dressed in Spacer togs, followed by the captured Intel strike teams.

  “Aunt Sleak, over here!” Naero shouted. She turned to one of the guards. He was trying to listen to what came over his helmet com.

  “Our weapons, our transports–where are they?” Naero demanded.

  The man pointed to several containers. Naero pulled them open, finding them filled with Spacer weapons and gear.

  “Gallan, Naero!” Aunt Sleak said. She quickly embraced them both. “We thought you were dead.” She glanced at Naero’s com band.

  “I should be dead, shouldn’t I?” Naero said. “I’m sure it’s a long story.”

  Another distant impact shook the area once more, closer this time.

  “If we live to argue about it,” Naero added.

  “Your transports are in the loading bay at the end of this corridor,” the guard told them. “Follow us; we’re on our way out.”

  “Corp raiders have infiltrated the complex,” another guard shouted. “We’re holding them off, but they’re blasting everyone.”

  Aunt Sleak racked four high intensity rounds into her quad-barrel khotgun. “I’d like to see ’em try,” she said with a smile. “Move, move, move, people!”

  The Intel agents fanned out around them in close assault formation. Screams and rapid bursts of many weapons echoed from the loading bay. Several miners pulled back into the corridor, weapons blazing.

  The rebels put up a fierce resistance, but they remained pinned down. Bursts of heavy fire tore into and through the solid rock around them.

  “We’re cut off. They’ve taken the loading bay,” a bleeding miner shouted. “Too many of them. We’re trapped!”

  “Attack strategy Delta-18!” Aunt Sleak shouted.

  One of the Intel people activated a device that projected holos of their groups ten meters in front of them.

  At first the holos drew the bulk of the enemy fire, allowing the Spacers and miners to burst into the loading bay right behind.

  They split off into three-person fire teams, picking and popping targets at will.

  In the midst of the chaos, four Ejjai in partial blast armor sprang at Aunt Sleak. The slugs from their weapons rebounded off her personal deflector field, barely forcing her back.

  Naero picked off the foremost with an aimed headshot.

  Aunt Sleak took out two more with double blasts from her khotgun. The last Ejjai raced at her, an alpha female with a short sword in her other hand.

  Personal shields didn’t stop blades.

  The Ejjai alpha was fast. Naero’s hurried shot barely grazed her. The alpha sprang at Aunt Sleak with a with a roar.

  Aunt Sleak dropped her empty khotgun and swept out her energy cutlass in a flash.

  Swords descended in killing strikes. They crashed into each other, sparks blazing.

  Aunt Sleak dove to one side, still slicing.

  The energy blade cut the Ejjai alpha to pieces, gore splattered all over their transports. The scent of blood and fire thick and rank in the air.

  Naero stared at Aunt Sleak, a metal sword impaled straight through her shoulder. The muscled arm of the Ejjai still hanging from the hilt.

  “That was close,” Aunt Sleak said.

  Irith cut the sword off on either side of the wound with a microtorch and sealed both sides of the wound.

  “Leave that chunk of blade in there for now,” she said. “You’ll lose too much blood if we take it out.”

  Aunt Sleak nodded, wincing at the pain. She leaned on Naero until two other Spacers picked her up and ran to the transport with her.

  In less than a minute, the raiders holding the launching bays had been put down, while miners and Spacers alike scrambled for their craft.

  “We’re ready!” Irith shouted from Lobo-3F. Spacers converged on the transport and filed in.

  Packed ships and craft launched without warning, nearly colliding with each other in the panic to escape.

  A Shadowforce officer shouted to the miner commandos, pointing at two huge battered suits of power armor standing empty against the wall.

  “Can any of you operate those tank suits?”

  The leader of the miners shook his head, reloading. “No. We captured them, but none of us ever learned how. We could sure use them now. We ain’t gonna last here very long.”

  There wasn’t enough time to get the ships out.

  Naero watched in growing horror.

  Gallan and the Intel officer didn’t hesitate.

  Both of them climbed into the old battlesuits, activating field-level defensive screens, covering the main corridor, the launch bays, and hundreds of miner commandos.

  “Gallan!” she shouted, “What are you doing? Come on. Get out of there!”

  Miners screamed in terror. “Here they come!”

  “Get your people through,” Gallan yelled, charging his cannons. “Then blast the enemy to hell. We gotta hold this corridor while the rest of the ships launch.”

  Miners streamed through, frantic with terror, trampling anyone who fell in front of them, man, woman, or child. All of them desperate to reach the transports.

  “Haisha!” Gallan said. His eyes got big as he read what was coming on the sensors.

  Then he caught the rapidly approaching glow on visuals. “Get back. Incoming. Fire in the hole!” The Intel agent and the miners took cover to either side.

  An instant later, a tremendou
s blast knocked Naero and others flat. A scarlet blizzard of meat and bone swallowed up screams of the refugees still caught in the tunnel.

  A gout of intense flame and heat followed, roaring out of the corridor, sucking up the air.

  Like a taste of hell itself.

  Naero lifted her head up from the floor and shrieked at her friend. “Gallan!”

  Destruction imminent.

  He gave her a last look, a sudden intense look.

  The rear guard wouldn’t make it out.

  But some of the remaining ships still might.

  Gallan was her true friend.

  Naero had very few true friends.

  Her heart tumbled and scorched its way through her like a burning hot coal.

  Gallan grinned, nodded back at the last ship to her, and then focused all of his attention on the tunnel.

  He poured fire from his heavy blaster cannons into the corridor in controlled bursts, driving back and disrupting the advancing Triaxian Marine heavies.

  “Here they come again. Pour it at ’em!” she heard him shout.

  Naero got up to run to his side.

  Two agents grabbed her arms and dragged her back. She punched one and kicked another. Almost got free.

  Klyne nailed her with a jolt from a neural paralyzer. She spasmed and froze up, then went limp.

  She could still see, her vision blurred, Gallan fighting side-by-side with the Shadowforce agents and miner commandos.

  While Klyne and others dragged her up the loading ramp.

  The sheer ferocity of fire from the enemy pushed and blasted Gallan and the others back from the opening.

  The Intel officer took the brunt of it on his shields, got torched. He went down.

  Gallan overloaded his deflectors full front, still jacked into the charging lines, and stepped directly into the teeth of the enemy fire.

  Naero’s craft lifted off and pulled away as if in slow motion.

  Gallan’s overtaxed shields shimmered and held in in front of him.

  The miners rallied behind, firing and tossing grenades and mining charges.

  Multiple explosions rocked the launch bay, obscuring almost everything in swirling clouds of dust and debris.

  Another enemy assault drove the defenders back again, just as the remaining ships fled.

  Gallan’s cannons whirred and clicked empty.

  He activated his suit’s bright humming energy blades close-up.

  He crouched, ready to fight, and charged forward, bright blades flashing through the air in Spacer attack patterns.

  He cut through a squad of enemy Marines in heavy assault armor, slashing and hacking them to pieces.

  Before the transport ramp doors slammed shut, Naero saw the large whip-like terror from the cavern leap upon her big friend out of a sheer torrent of expanding dust and enemy fire.

  In the haze and smoke, it was a green-yellow blur. But she caught one glance of its thick head, horribly scarred with deep hash marks of slashes and lines.

  Gallan got one stab in, and another deep cut.

  The thing tore his armor apart and fell upon him, impossibly strong and fast.

  The miners withered like chaff before the firestorm once Gallan went down.

  She heard him cry out once.

  The transport doors latched and sealed.

  Her ship pulled away up into the atmosphere.

  Whatever that thing was, it worked for Triax.

  It just killed her best friend.

  Naero swore her vengeance silently. Fists clenched, chest heaving. Tears rivered down her face. She shook, still somewhat paralyzed.

  Through the view screens, she saw a dozen Triaxian fighters suddenly swarm at them and the other helpless transports from out of the clouds.

  Just as suddenly, the enemy fighters lost power and tumbled away.

  “What the hell was that?” Klyne yelled. “Those bogies had us cold.”

  Shalaen, Naero thought.

  The sky swarmed with miner ships and transports, desperate to escape Hadar-1 in any direction.

  “Make for the ocean!” Aunt Sleak said. “The coordinates for the tertiary rendezvous site are loaded under Epsilon-Option-91.”

  Naero thought about Gallan, about her parents, but her mind floated in a haze of shock. Too much horror and loss to fully process and concentrate.

  Out the view screens, she watched as not all of the miners escaped. Despite Shalaen’s efforts, many miner craft fell under attack as they dispersed. Sent spinning and burning back to the surface, filled with screaming, dying refugees.

  Such was war, prosecuted by Triax and the Corps.

  Naero closed the blast shutters, closed her eyes, and bowed her head for a moment, only imagining the screams still echoing in her troubled mind.

  Gallan’s final scream before he died.

  They penetrated the surface of the water, and travelled submerged for a long while until they met up with The Rio Lobo.

  Once back on board, they prepared for immediate departure.

  “Clean up and prepare to be boarded,” Klyne shouted. “We have clearance to leave, but Triax has two entire fleets surrounding this system now. They won’t let anyone through without a look-see, of that I’m certain.”

  When they were set, The Rio Lobo departed the planet.

  As Klyne guessed, two destroyers, a light cruiser, and seven fighters moved immediately to intercept them.

  They beamed their clearance to depart at the naval forces, but the cruiser fired a blast from one of its big spinal guns directly in front of them, nearly taking off their nose.

  The enraged boarding party silently and violently shoved them around violently, and tore up half of the ship. But in the end, everything checked out, so the officer reluctantly gave the all-clear sign.

  She and her pissed-off troops left without a single word or apology.

  Aunt Sleak had already prepared to jump before they were gone.

  Naero watched as the beleaguered miners tried to flee, their ships staggering into jump, as the Triaxian fleet bore down on them.

  The strange protective sphere around the miners grew smaller and smaller.

  Shalaen was weakening.

  Just before they went into jump, Naero saw two dozen, sleek, black, unmarked craft appear out of nowhere and sweep through the Triaxian formations, firing and maneuvering with incredible agility and speed.

  For a few crucial moments, the surprise assault caught the lumbering Triaxian ships completely off guard.

  Naero smiled. She’d seen their like once before.

  Now the phantom gunships and heavy fighters attacked in coordinated waves, like dark spirits of vengeance.

  In moments, the Triaxian fleet carriers burned, along with two heavy cruisers. Three destroyers and numerous fighters either exploded or drifted dead in space.

  In the chaos, the remaining miners slipped away into jump. Just as suddenly, the unknown craft vanished, disappearing even off visuals and every sensor scan.

  Naero looked at Klyne, raising one eyebrow inquisitively.

  Klyne shrugged. “Our escort ships just arrived. We didn’t think a little practice sortie would hurt anything.”

  “It’ll keep the Triaxians guessing about the miners, too,” Aunt Sleak said. “Damn the Corps.”

  She winced again from the length of Ejjai steel still lodged in her shoulder, but her eyes focused on Naero.

  “As soon as I get this sliver out, I suspect we’re going to have an intriguing debriefing,” she said.

  She put her good arm around Naero and pulled her close. “I’m sorry about Gallan, Naero. He was family. I know.”

  Naero bit her lip, nodding her head. No time for tears now. “We’ll add that to Triax’s list.”

  Aunt Sleak shook her and narrowed her eyes. “You bet we will.”

  “I need to ask you something,” Naero said. “Do I have any brothers besides Jan?”

  Aunt Sleak paled. “How did you–”

  “Just answer
the question.”

  “Jan had a twin, but he was killed at birth. It’s an awful story that your parents never spoke about to anyone, because it was too painful. Only Zalvano and I, and a few people in Intel know what happened. Best for another time. Not now.” Voices called out to them in the haze.

  Naero forced a smile as Jan and Ellis ran to her from their stations. Tarim appeared at the door, relieved, but holding back still. She hugged Jan and tried not to think about Gallan, her parents, or her long-dead brother for the time being. So much death and loss.

  Cherish the living, her father had once told her. She began to fully understand what that meant.

  40

  “The heat is really on now,” Klyne said in the briefing room. “Quite frankly, we’re at a loss. I’m open to any and all suggestions, people.”

  The debriefing room went deathly silent.

  “Well,” Aunt Sleak said, still healing from her wounds. “We’ve learned that both the Matayans and the mining revolt worlds are close to negotiating a secret defection strategy with Joshua Tech and The Spacer Alliance. Even to the point of having their worlds annexed as protectorates. If they’re that serious, why don’t we seek some help from them? At the very least, in the ensuing chaos, we might be able to lose ourselves and slip away.”

  “Risky,” Klyne said. “Everyone’s still hunting for the Kexxian Data Matrix, including the Matayans. Until it’s safely in Spacer hands, we’re not taking any chances. That is our primary mission. Others have theirs.”

  Prince Ellis perked up at that. He started to say something, but Klyne cut him off.

  “Forgive me, your highness, but that’s the truth,” Klyne said. “Our peoples have been bitter enemies for centuries. That’s not going to go away overnight. We barely agreed to let you sit in on this meeting.”

  Ellis closed his mouth for a moment and considered what to say next.

  “I was going to add,” he said quietly, “that there continues to be great turmoil among my people and even in the royal court. There remains an open power struggle between the current Emperor, Mellis VI, and our Prime Minister, Adrin, his brother. I know its confusing, especially when they both look exactly alike and have even posed as each other, from time to time.