Starship Revenant (The Galactic Wars Book 3)

by Tripp Ellis

  Zoey’s eyes went wide with concern.

  The big oaf wiped a trickle of blood from his chin. He grinned and spit a pinkish mix of blood and saliva on the concrete. “I don’t usually hit women, but you did strike first.”

  The thick bastard wound up and swung at her. His fist was like a wrecking ball plowing toward her face.

  6

  WALKER

  The Saarkturian gunship hurtled away from the desolate desert planet. Patched together and barely operational, it had just enough juice to escape the atmosphere. The baron red planet grew small as the ship headed into space.

  “Thantos 6,” Malik said as he piloted the gunship. It was a heavily armed Phantom with two 30mm chain guns and an array of Inferno and Cobra rockets.

  “What?” said Walker.

  “The name of the planet. Thantos 6,” Malik said, looking over the star charts.

  Lieutenant Commander Kurt Walker didn’t care if the crispy hunk of sand at the ass end of the galaxy had a name or not. He was just glad to be off of it. And if he never came back again, that would suit him just fine.

  He had found an unlikely alliance with two of his mortal enemies—Malik and Saaja. Both Saarkturian warriors. He had also found a new best friend—Bailey—a dog-like creature he had formed an unbreakable bond with on the desolate planet.

  None of these individuals would still be alive without the assistance of each other. It made for an unusual, but strong, nexus. They had survived the crucible of combat together. And from this point on, they would always be brothers in arms.

  But the reality of their sworn allegiances, and the war, were setting in.

  Walker was still recovering from his wounds received while battling the vicious creatures on Thantos 6. The numbness of the arthropod’s venom was wearing off. But his leg and arm tingled with pins and needles, like he had slept on them wrong.

  Even with the accelerated wound healing technology of the Saarkturians, it was going to be a few days before Walker was back to full speed. The after effects of the venom made him feel hung over and nauseous. Though, he was almost getting used to that sensation.

  “So, how do you want to work this out?” Malik said. “We can’t take you back to New Earth. It’s too risky. I don’t think a Saarkturian Phantom would make it anywhere close without getting shot down.”

  “What about Delta Vega? It’s one of the outermost colonies. It’s not heavily defended. There shouldn’t be much of a UPDF presence. If we run into trouble we can use my identification code.”

  Malik was skeptical. “Even so, we’d likely be greeted by a military escort. Once they found Saarkturians aboard, we’d be taken captive.”

  “I wouldn’t let that happen.”

  “You might not be able to stop it. We’d be interrogated and tortured. You know this as well as I do.”

  Walker grimaced. Malik was right. It would be standard operating procedure to interrogate any enemy soldiers encountered. “I’m reasonably certain we’ll be able to get in without an issue. The only time that anyone from the UPDF visits Delta Vega is for shore leave.”

  Malik didn’t look convinced.

  “Polaris 5 would be another option. It’s a neutral research facility.”

  “Polaris is too far. I can’t even say for certain the slide-space drive is going to work.” Malik pondered things for a moment. “What about the mining colony on Hyperion 6?”

  Walker looked at Malik like he was crazy. “It’s been abandoned for the last decade. You can’t leave us there.”

  “We’d make sure you had food and water. You could initiate the distress beacon. I’m sure it would get picked up by one of your kind.”

  Walker shook his head. “How about we hop over to Delta Vega and check it out. If it looks too hot, we jump out. Then you can take me to Hyperion. Deal?”

  “I agree,” Saaja said. “Let’s try Delta Vega first. It seems like a more reasonable thing to do.”

  Bailey barked.

  “See, even Bailey thinks it’s a good idea,” Walker said.

  Malik sighed. “Delta Vega it is.”

  Saaja plotted a course, and Malik engaged the slide-space drive. The tiny ship bulged and rippled. Time and space distorted. Walker felt like he had just reached the top of a roller coaster and was plummeting down on the long slide to the bottom.

  Bailey barked and howled. This was his first quantum jump. And he wasn’t totally sure how he felt about it.

  Walker petted him. “Easy, boy. Nothing to it.”

  Like a rubber band stretched tight, the Phantom snapped into slide-space. Three hours later, they emerged on the outskirts of Delta Vega.

  Malik’s eyes went wide.

  Even from space you could see the destruction on the planet below. Smoldering fires were still burning out of control. The planet looked blackened and scarred from the bombings and destruction.

  An armada of Decluvain super-carriers encircled the planet.

  Malik’s heart raced.

  “What the hell is going on?” Walker asked, stunned at the sight of the invasion force.

  “Decluvians,” Malik said in a panicked voice. “Sworn enemies of Saarkturia.”

  Malik knew nothing of the new alliance. It was baffling to him. “What are they doing in the Holy Land?”

  Walker almost had to laugh. Delta Vega was anything but holy. It was so decadent and depraved that it made Sodom and Gomorrah look like a convent.

  “Surely they can’t be stupid enough to take a system claimed by the Saarkturians?” Malik said.

  “We did,” Walker murmured.

  Malik frowned. “I think it’s time we get out of here.”

  Malik attempted to engage the slide-space drive, but it wasn’t responding. The last jump had drained their improvised fuel cell.

  An alarm sounded. Targets on the sensor display flashed red. Several Decluvian fighters were headed their way.

  Malik’s eyes were wide. “Saaja, target the incoming ships.”

  Saaja lowered her targeting visor. The gunship’s massive chain guns snapped to attention. The optical tracking system followed her eye movements, targeting anything she looked at. Saaja gripped the trigger on the joystick, ready to blast the incoming squadron out of space.

  But opening fire would be a huge mistake.

  7

  ZOEY

  Zoey ducked. The oaf’s massive fist rushed overhead.

  8-Ball chopped at the back of the meathead’s neck. The blow was little more than an nuisance. The oaf backhanded 8-Ball, sending him crashing to the floor.

  Zoey grabbed a beer bottle from a nearby table and smashed it against the oaf’s thick melon head. It shattered into a thousand pieces. Zoey thought for sure he’d go down with that hit. But it just seemed to enrage him.

  He grabbed her and flung her through the air. She careened across the bar, crashing into a table. Wood splintered. Drinks splashed.

  Zoey peeled her aching body off the floor. The oaf was marching toward her like a steamroller.

  8-Ball jumped onto his back and wrapped his arm around the meathead’s neck. His neck was so thick, 8-Ball could barely get him in a chokehold. The oaf’s face turned red as 8-Ball squeezed with all his might.

  But 8-Ball couldn’t hold on for long. The oaf reached back and grabbed Eddie's shirt. The oaf yanked Eddie forward and flipped him off his back. 8-Ball crashed to the ground in front of the meathead. He wound up and kicked Eddie in the gut, full force. Eddie groaned in pain. The kick was enough to lift Eddie's body off the floor.

  Zoey came back at the oaf, breaking a chair across his torso. It shattered like balsa wood against the man’s stocky frame. The beast grabbed her by the throat, wrapping his mammoth hands around her neck. She couldn’t breathe. She felt like her eyes were going to pop out of their sockets.

  The oaf reached his arm back and swung with everything he had. His sledgehammer of a fist crashed into Zoey’s cheek. The blow wrenched her jaw, twisting her neck. She smacked the concrete like a
slab of beef. The floor smelled like stale beer and old vomit. Washed with bleach and water many times, it was a smell that never quite came out of the porous concrete floor.

  Zoey had been in plenty of bar fights before. But she’d never been hit that hard in her entire life. Her eye was instantly black, and she was seeing double. It took her a moment to regain her faculties.

  The meathead was moving in for the kill.

  Zoey tried to peel herself off the ground. She couldn’t take many more hits like that. If she didn’t get off the ground soon she was going to be in deep trouble.

  The fight had drawn a crowd. They were hooting and hollering and cheering. People were making bets on the side. Nobody was stepping in to help. Hell, it was a free fight on a Friday night. You couldn’t get better live entertainment than this.

  Eddie charged the oaf, but he batted Eddie away like he was made of paper. He turned his attention back to Zoey. By this time, she had sprung up from the ground and was trying to plot her next move.

  A shotgun blast got everyone’s attention.

  Baxter had put a round into the ceiling. Bits of plaster and debris rained down from above. He racked the pump action shotgun and aimed it at the oaf’s mellon head. “I like a good fight as much as the next person, but this one is over, Harley.”

  Harley scowled at him.

  “Tell you what… you apologize to the lady, and I’ll give you another round on the house.”

  Harley growled.

  “I got no qualms about making improvements to your appearance,” Baxter said. “Dr. Floyd here gives a helluva facelift.” Baxter had an affinity for his shotgun. It had settled down many a rowdy patron over the years.

  Harley gritted his teeth. “She started it. I ain’t apologizing for shit.”

  “Harley, I haven’t had to shoot nobody in a long time.” Baxter’s finger was wrapped tight around the trigger. Even with a 12gauge shotgun aimed at the big thug, Baxter was still a little nervous. Harley was just one of those guys that was hard to put down.

  Harley pursed his lips, then sighed. “Alright, fine. Whatever.” His menacing eyes found Zoey. “I’m sorry. My behavior was rude and insensitive.”

  Baxter’s tense body relaxed a bit.

  Zoey was a little surprised Harley complied so easily. She wasn’t about to let her guard down, but Harley’s change in behavior was just enough of a distraction for him to make his move. And he moved quick, for such a big guy.

  Harley lunged for Baxter’s shotgun. He grabbed the barrel and pushed it toward the ceiling. Baxter clenched his fist, involuntarily squeezing the trigger. The thunderous blast was deafening. Zoey’s ears rang. Bits of dust and debris from the ceiling rained down.

  Harley cracked Baxter in the face with the stock of the shotgun. Then he stripped the weapon from Baxter’s hands. He pumped the weapon and aimed it at Baxter’s head. He was about to pull the trigger when Zoey lunged for the barrel.

  The shotgun went off again—this time cratering the concrete next to Baxter. He managed to roll out of the way in the knick of time, pelted by chips of concrete.

  Zoey struggled with Harley over the gun. But it wasn’t much of a struggle. Harley tossed Zoey aside. She crashed to the ground amid broken glass and the debris of the shattered table. Shards dug into her hands and forearms. Blood bloomed from the abrasions.

  Harley racked the shotgun again. This time the big black barrel was staring right at her.

  8

  THE DECLUVIANS

  Emperor Tyvelon marveled at the destruction of Delta Vega from the CIC of the Imperial Spaceship Korvectus. It was named after the Decluvian God of War, and first emperor, Ivas Korvectus IV.

  If Tyvelon’s campaign to exterminate the humans and drive them from the Saarkturian Holy Land was successful, which was off to a good start, he would be remembered as a god himself. And that thought gave him much pleasure.

  The view from the CIC was awe-inspiring. There is a certain beauty in destruction. Tyvelon saw it as an act of creation. The smoldering planet below him was being reborn in the Decluvian image.

  He wore his ceremonial body armor, though the view from the CIC was as close as he was likely going to get to actual combat. But he did look regal and imposing. He was a fierce warrior, and had proven himself in battle many times before.

  The Decluvian’s had evolved from an amphibian species. They had brightly colored skin with black spots. They came in many colors, but Tyvelon’s predominant color was red. He looked like the devil himself.

  The Decluvians had large, protruding eyes that gave them almost 360 degree vision. They were almost impossible to sneak up on. They had long, slender fingers—three on each hand, and an opposable thumb. There was slight webbing in between the digits. The tips of their fingers could adhere to almost anything. They preferred hot and humid climates with lots of water. And water was something the Decluvians were running out of. And there was plenty of it on Delta Vega.

  They were an aposematic species—their skin could become toxic. It was secreted when threatened, fearful, or in pain. Touching a Decluvian could be a deadly proposition. The poison easily permeated through Saarkturian and human skin. Almost instantaneous paralysis and loss of autonomic function would result. They could also control the release of the toxin at will.

  “My Lord, military operations are wrapping up. We have secured the planet and will begin transport of the prisoners. The second wave of operations should commence shortly.” The Decluvian commander stood at attention. But there was an almost imperceptible tremor in his voice.

  “Well done, Commander Nalduun,” Tyvelon said. “Have a dozen healthy prisoners brought to the galley. Good, meaty specimens. Have the royal chef prepare them for our victory feast.”

  “Yes, My Lord.”

  “And I want my favorite dessert.”

  “Brain pudding, My Lord?”

  Tyvelon smiled.

  “There is one slight problem.”

  The emperor’s eyes narrowed.

  Nalduun cleared his throat and swallowed hard. “A gunship seemed to escape. It blasted through our defense network and made a quantum jump.”

  Tyvelon clenched his jaw and drew close to the commander.

  Nalduun cringed with fear.

  “That is unacceptable to me. Track them down, and destroy them.”

  “But, My Lord, they have already jumped away.” He tried to downplay it. “It’s a small ship, and it was badly damaged. It will take them days to reach New Earth, if they arrive at all. By that time our forces will have arrived.”

  “I don’t want the humans to have any advanced warning of our invasion. Track its quantum distortions. Find that ship and destroy it.”

  “Yes, My Lord.” Nalduun trembled.

  “What are you waiting for?”

  Nalduun spun around and scurried from the CIC.

  “Sir, a Saarkturian Phantom has jumped into the sector,” a tactical officer yelled.

  Tyvelon’s round eyes shifted back and forth as he processed the information. “So, Prince Valinok has sent someone to keep an eye on me.”

  “Do you want me to destroy it?”

  “No. We will save our aggression against the Saarkturians until after we have exterminated the humans.”

  “If Valinok wants to keep tabs on me, let him have a close view. Invite his spies aboard.”

  “Yes, My Lord.”

  9

  WALKER

  Saaja was about to squeeze the trigger and blast the Decluvian fighters into oblivion when a voice crackled over the comm line.

  “ISS Korvectus to the Saarkturian Phantom. ISS Korvectus to the Saarkturian Phantom. Do you copy?”

  The voice spoke in perfect Saarkturese. The Decluvians were well versed in the language of their former enemy. Walker was fluent himself.

  Saaja eyed Malik and lifted her brow. He nodded for her to respond.

  “Go ahead, Korvectus.”

  “Emperor Tyvelon has requested your presence on the Korvec
tus. He wishes that Prince Valinok could be here to celebrate this historic victory. But as his emissary, he is certain you will relay the full splendor of this success to the Prince. The Emperor would be honored if you would join him at the royal feast.”

  Saaja and Malik exchanged a quizzical glance.

  “It seems we’ve formed an alliance with the Decluvians,” Malik said.

  Saaja responded. “We’d be honored.”

  “Excellent. Please allow our fighters to escort you to the flight deck.”

  The Decluvian fighters flanked the Phantom and guided her to the Korvectus. She was one of dozens of ships in the Decluvian fleet that were orbiting Delta Vega. Walker wondered if this was the entire invasion force, or just a fraction? Were other armadas attacking the other colonies?

  “Excuse me,” Walker said. “In case you haven’t noticed, I happen to be human. The very species they are attempting to exterminate. I don’t think I’m going to be a welcomed dinner guest.”

  Saaja cringed. “Yeah. About that. There’s something I need to tell you.”

  Walker arched an inquisitive eyebrow at her.

  “Human’s are a bit of a delicacy to the Decluvians.”

  Walker’s jaw dropped. “So, I’m not only a guest, I’m on the menu.”

  “That’s a possibility.”

  “We might want to reconsider this invitation,” Walker said.

  Bailey barked in agreement.

  “The last jump taxed the fuel-cell pretty hard,” Malik said. “It may bounce back, but right now there’s not enough juice for another jump.”

  Walker scanned the interior of the gunship. “I don’t suppose you have any hidden compartments in this ship?”

  Malik shook his head. “We could say you are a spy for the Saarkturians.”

  “I would never betray the Federation. I won’t even pretend.”

  “You’re wearing Saarkturian battle armor. Put on a helmet and don’t take it off.”