by Larry Payne
“Looking for this one?”
Magnus, Kalar and Qwee turned to find the third ambusher being dragged by the collar through the parting throng of curious onlookers. Armond dragged his trophy to the middle of the circle and dropped him in the street at the feet of his cohorts. “Thought you might want this one too.”
Armond stood with his palms resting on the butts of the twin blasters belted around his waist. He wore a loose red shirt with puffed sleeves buttoned at the cuff. His black pants, with a black satin sash around his waist, were tucked into black, calf high boots. A black bandanna, knotted at the back of his head, completed the look.
“Told you he’d turned up,” said Kalar with a smile.
“Yeah, but what’s he wearin’?” asked Magnus.
“I paid good credits for these clothes I’ll have you know,” replied Armond, brushing his shirt.
“You were robbed,” said Qwee.
Magnus pointed to the Saurian at their feet. “Where’d you find him?”
“When the commotion broke out, he came running out from between two buildings. I figured he had something to do with it.”
“Where’s Basko?” asked Magnus.
Armond shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. “Lost track of the old man a couple of hours ago. He did that shapeshiftin’ thing he does and then disappeared. Ain’t seen him since.”
Basko Zarr’s father was a cloaker and his mother was a shapeshifter and Basko had inherited the uncanny ability to do both.
“Let’s get this trash to the authorities and then I’ll get you up to speed on the job.”
Qwee picked up the unconscious Saurian by the belt and looked over at Armond as he strode past him. “Hope you didn’t get rid of your old clothes.”
“Shut up!” said Armond and the big Jebhari chuckled as they followed their companions up the street to Spaceport Security.
Chapter 6
They strolled into the lobby of the Moon Glow Hotel and Armond disappeared into the hotel bar. He reappeared carrying five bottles of ale.
“A little celebration,” he said, holding up the bottles and followed his friends up the stairs to the second floor. Magnus held the door open while the rest of them filed into the room, then closed and locked it.
Armond stepped to the small table, opened the bottles and placed them in front of each one of them. When Magnus was about to sit down, there came a knock and he returned to the door.
“Who is it?” he called and drew his blaster when he didn’t get an answer.
He peered through the peephole, then unlocked the door, opened it and peeked into an empty hallway, smiling when he felt something brush by him. He holstered his blaster and stepped back into the room.
The laughter of his companions greeted him as Armond Juncker stood facing Basko Zarr with a drawn blaster.
“Why can’t you come in the room like a normal person? I should shoot you just for spite,” said Armond to the smiling old man. He holstered his weapon, opened the last bottle of ale and set it in front of Basko. “I should let you go thirsty, too.”
When they all got resettled in their seats, they lifted their bottles and touched them together over the center of the table.
“To Magnus,” said Kalar, “may he not be leading us on a wild goose chase.” They all laughed and turned up their bottles.
“Now, tell me about this job you’ve found us,” said Armond.
“He’s agreed to rescue a fair maiden from the clutches of Black Fist,” said Kalar.
Armond raised his eyebrows and pointed the neck of his bottle at Magnus. “You’re going to need more than us if that’s what you’re planning.”
“I got what I got, it’ll have to do,” replied Magnus and turned up his bottle.
Qwee shook his head. “I admire your idea of fair odds.”
Armond turned his empty bottle over the table. “I don’t know about you guys, but I need another drink.”
“Lead on,” said Kalar and they all followed Armond out the door and down to the hotel bar.
They found a suitable table along the back wall and Kalar offered to buy the first round courtesy of her good fortune at The Smuggler’s Roost.
She was walking back with the drinks when a Telidon lifted a drink off the tray she was carrying. “That tray looks a little heavy for you, let me lighten it some,” he said.
Telidons are a troublesome lot. The nomads of the galaxy, they roam from planet to planet, spaceport to spaceport, making life miserable for everyone they come in contact with.
“Put the drink back,” said Kalar.
The Telidon turned the glass up, emptied it and set it back on the tray. He looked back at his companions at the bar and they all shared a laugh. Kalar set the tray on an empty table and when the Telidon turned back to her, she planted her fist in his face, sending him backpedaling and landing on his backside.
“Wanna play rough, huh?” The Telidon rose slowly from the floor. “I like it rough.”
He charged Kalar and at the last second she sidestepped, hit the Telidon on the side of his face and kicked his backside as he rushed past her, sending him sprawling across the floor and under a table.
The Telidon toppled the table and rose from the floor again. “No one interefere,” he said when his companions started to move from the bar. “She’s mine.”
“Dumark’s got trouble,” said Armond, looking up toward the commotion.
“The Telidon’s the one that has the trouble,” replied Qwee.
The four freelancers rose from their seats at the table and spread out, angling toward the Telidons at the bar.
Kalar’s opponent charged her again and she sidestepped once more, sending a sidekick to his stomach, doubling him over. She grabbed the back of a chair from the empty table and splintered it across the Telidon’s shoulders, sending him back to the floor.
Magnus and Armond came up beside the two Telidons at the bar as they started to move toward the two combatants. They drew their blasters and poked them in the ribs of the Telidons.
“No interference, remember?” said Magnus. The surprised Telidons settled back against the bar.
Kalar stepped back as her opponent started to rise and sent a kick to his face smashing his nose, sending him backwards, bloodied and howling in pain.
She shook her head in disbelief as her battered opponent struggled to get his feet again. She delivered a kick to the side of his head, propelling him into the bar where he slid to the floor motionless.
Two members of Spaceport Security, who happened to be passing by on a routine patrol, came barging through the door. “What’s going on in here?”
“The Telidon started it,” said the bartender, “and the lady finished it. And in grand style, I might add.”
Security hauled the Telidon from the floor and dragged him out the door.
“Very impressive, Miss Dumark,” said Magnus, throwing his arm across her shoulders.
“Thank you, Mister Magnus. Shall we try to find a place a little more quiet?”
“A very good idea, Miss Dumark.”
Armond, Qwee and Basko looked at the tray of drinks on the empty table and then each other. “Be a shame to let ‘em go to waste,” said Armond.
“Wouldn’t be right,” said Basko.
“Especially since they’re already paid for,” said Qwee. They each picked up a drink from the tray and held it up in front of them.
“To us,” said Basko. They drained the glasses and then followed their companions out the door.
Chapter 7
Magnus and Qwee were already buckled into their seats when Kalar boarded Vindicator.
“You know where to stow your gear,” Magnus shouted from the cockpit.
Kalar carried her belongings through the living area into the sleeping quarters and dumped them on the empty bunk in one of the small cabins. They were going over the takeoff checklist when she entered the cockpit and buckled into a seat behind Magnus.
“Are we ready?” ask
ed Magnus.
“Let’s go,” replied Kalar.
Magnus flipped four switches on the control panel and waited for the four red lights to stop blinking. “Engines on.”
Qwee toggled two switches, lighting up the rest of the panel. “All systems ready.”
Magnus gained clearance for takeoff and then eased Vindicator into the launch area. He waited for Armond to gain clearance and then throttled his engines, leaving the spaceport with Armond’s Star Runner following close behind.
Clearing Dracus space, Magnus triggered his Comm link. “See you at Gantiss III.”
“I’ll be right behind you, buddy,” said Armond. “Don’t slow down or I’ll be in your cockpit.”
Magnus smiled as he shut down the Comm link and initiated the hyperdrive. The star field ahead slowly became star lines and then faded to black as Vindicator settled into hyperspace.
Magnus swiveled his chair around to Kalar. “So tell me what you know about Owen Clayton.”
Kalar adjusted the backward tilt on her chair and crossed her legs. “Owen Clayton inherited Clayton Enterprises from his father, Branson. It was a legit business back then, but it didn’t take long for Owen to turn it into something his father wouldn’t be proud of. But, he was so discreet at what he did, he never got caught at it. Pretty soon his reputation grew along with his credit bank.”
“How did Clayton hook up with Rena?”
“Rena’s father, Trace Brodine, owns Universal Freighters. Clayton hired Brodine to make his contraband runs. I guess Clayton figured it would be cheaper to hire someone than to buy and maintain his own fleet. Plus, he didn’t want it traced back to him if any of the freighters got caught with the goods.”
Qwee set the controls to autopilot and swiveled his chair around to Kalar.
“Trace,” she continued, “was transporting one of Clayton’s contraband shipments when he was hijacked by pirates. He was fortunate to escape with his life, but Clayton was livid when he found out Trace had lost a shipment and threatened to put Brodine out of business permanently. But then, Clayton offered to forget all about the lost credits if Trace would consent to letting him marry Rena.”
“What did she say about that?” asked Qwee.
“Rena went ballistic on Trace. She told him if he made her marry Clayton, she would never forgive him. Trace told her living with Clayton would be better than living in the street, because that’s exactly where she would be if she didn’t. She finally gave in and shortly after the wedding, she was abducted by Raxlon Brietta. I guess he thought Clayton would pay big credits to get her back.”
“Instead, Clayton hires us to get her back,” said Magnus.
The star lines reappeared and slowly became a twinkling star field as Vindicator dropped from hyperspace.
“Gantiss III dead ahead,” said Qwee.
Gantiss III was the galaxy’s shipyard. From small personal shuttles that were built in factories on the planet to the commercial Starliners and Galactic Star Destroyers, in various stages of construction, in docks above the planet.
“What is this all about?” asked Magnus.
They’d dropped in on a star fighter attack on a freight hauler. The sparsely armed freighter, no obvious match for the sleek and swift star fighters, was lumbering as fast as its engines could take it toward the surface of Gantiss III.
“The freighter is badly in need of some help,” said Qwee.
“What are we going to do, Colonel?” crackled Armond over the Comm link. He had the habit of addressing Magnus by his military rank when he sensed a fracas was at hand.
“Let’s even the odds up a little,” said Magnus.
“Now you’re talkin’,” said Armond.
“Take over here, Qwee,” said Magnus, unbuckling his seat belt. He beckoned Kalar with his finger. “Follow me.”
Kalar unbuckled from her seat and followed Magnus out the cockpit hatch and down the corridor to a ladder. He bent down and pulled on a ring in the deck and opened a trap door that revealed a gun turret below.
“Man the lower gun and I’ll go up top,” said Magnus and climbed the ladder.
Kalar slid through the open hatch and harnessed into the padded gunner’s chair. She located the switch and powered up the turret controls. She rotated the turret left and right, then put on an intercom headset. “All set below.”
“All set up top. We’re ready when you are, Qwee.”
“Ready, Mister Juncker?” said Qwee into the Comm link.
“Lead on, Mister Qwee,” said Basko Zarr, who’d taken over the controls of Star Runner.
Qwee and Basko engaged their respective force fields and the two ships raced to rescue the beleaguered freighter. Two fighters broke from the attack and turned their attention to the oncoming rescuers.
“Heads up, here they come,” said Magnus.
Green streaks of lethal energy spewed from the fighters as they engaged the new threat. The deadly laser fire rocked the ships as it dissipated across their shields. The companion ships returned fire, turning the lightly shielded enemies into brilliant fireballs.
Kalar’s yell of excitement came through Magnus’s headset as the two ships flew through the fire and debris that seconds ago were deadly adversaries.
The fiery demise of their comrades made the other fighters rethink their objective. They turned their attention to the deadly intruders. The fighters split, two going high and two going low.
Magnus and Kalar exchanged fire with two of the fighters, following them as they streaked by.
“Are you going to shoot them or play with them until our shields collapse to make it more interesting,” chided Qwee.
The fighters turned and readied for another run. “Here they come again,” said Magnus.
Qwee deftly dodged the colored streaks of hot light crisscrossing between the warring ships, but still managed to add a few more charred scars to Vindicator’s hull.
“Just like old times,” said Qwee, as a blue bolt from Magnus’s turret gun penetrated the shield and pierced the canopy of the passing fighter, disintegrating it brilliantly.
The second fighter streaked past Kalar and she took him out with a well placed engine shot.
Qwee turned Vindicator in time to see a fighter disappear in a fiery explosion and the last fighter drop in behind Star Runner. Qwee watched the ship suddenly start to twist and turn in an attempt to evade the star fighter.
“Vindicator, we’re in trouble, gun’s jammed,” crackled the Comm link.
Qwee could hear a bit of urgency in Basko Zarr’s normally calm voice and tried to anticipate the old man’s dodging and darting moves. He set a course to intersect the fleeing craft. When Basko streaked past them, Magnus and Kalar trained their guns on the pursuing star fighter, disintegrating it amid a tremendous ball of fire.
“Well done, Mister Qwee,” said Magnus.
“Equally well done to you and Miss Dumark,” replied the Jebhari.
“Let’s go find Armond and Basko,” said Magnus.
#
When the star fighters broke off their attack, the freighter pilot made a run for Gantiss III. He waited in the spaceport and watched as Vindicator and Star Runner settled into their bays in the hangar.
“I’m mighty glad you all come along when you did,” he said to the five companions entering the spaceport. He extended his hand to the first one he met. “I’m Trace Brodine.”
“Quentin Magnus.” The freelancer shook the freighter’s hand as the last of them slid through the door behind him. “This is Kalar Dumark,” who smiled at the freighter, “The big fella is Qwee.” A slight bow greeted Trace. “Then there’s Armond Juncker,” who touched two fingers to his forehead, “and Basko Zarr,” giving the freighter a nod of his head.
“I want to thank all of you for saving my bacon out there,” said Trace.
“We just thought the odds were a bit one-sided,” said Kalar.
“And we wanted to even them up a bit,” said Armond.
“What was that
all about anyway?” asked Magnus.
Trace removed the cigar stub from the corner of his mouth with a fingerless gloved hand and held it between his finger and thumb.
“Black Fist has been making life miserable for me ever since I refused to do their smuggling. I guess they thought I should take up with them just because my daughter did,” he said.
The look of recognition suddenly overtook the faces of Magnus and Kalar. The name Trace Brodine had escaped them when he introduced himself.
“You’re Rena’s father,” said Kalar
“Yep, though I can’t say I’m too proud of that right now. I guess stayin’ with Mondo Kai appealed more to her than goin’ back to Owen Clayton.”
At the mention of the bounty hunter’s name, something stirred in Qwee that was not lost on Magnus.
“I take it you’ve met Kai,” said Magnus.
Trace nodded and replaced the cigar stub in the left side of his mouth. “Big, evil fella. As mean as he is big. Raxlon Brietta wanted to make him second-in-command of Black Fist, but I guess ol’ Kai had other ideas. To make a long story short, Brietta ended up on the business end of Kai’s blaster. The rest is history.”
“This Mondo Kai, does he have a badly scarred face?” asked Qwee.
“That’s him,” said Trace.
“Out with it, Qwee,” said Magnus.
The Jebhari thought for a moment, then took a deep breath and let it out slow. “My father brought a young Mondo Kai into our house after his family were killed by marauders. Our young years together were volatile. My father did everything he could to control him. When he became of age, he left my father’s house and turned to hunting bounty. One day one of his bounties tried to escape and Kai took a blaster shot to his face. He was ducking away and that was the only thing that spared his life, but he was permanently scarred. His hatred will eventually destroy him, but he will bring darkness to many lives before that day comes. I have always felt that I would have to stop this curse that has now unleashed itself on the galaxy.”
Not a word was uttered for a couple of minutes until Trace broke the silence. “That sounds like him, Qwee. Things oughta get a whole lot more interesting from now on.”
