by Justin Sloan
This one was using his shape-changing ability, which was going to make things a bit more difficult.
Kalan thought, These Pallicon sonsabitches could be tricky.
He waited until he was sure the male had passed his hiding place, then he drew a deep breath and stepped into the aisle. He kept his handgun trained on the deck.
Sure enough, the Pallicon was waiting. He’d changed his shape to make four short legs grow underneath him so he could lay on his back as he walked.
He spotted Kalan a split second after Kalan spotted him. Thankfully for Kalan he was faster than the Pallicon, and he blasted a hole in his chest.
Kalan shook his head, almost feeling sorry for the poor bastard. When he’d reshaped himself into a monstrosity with four legs coming out of his back, he’d probably never figured he’d stay like that for eternity.
The communicator on the Pallicon’s belt flashed, and a voice came through. “Everything all right down there, Uunard?”
Kalan paused for a moment, then reminded himself he was probably going to die on this shuttle anyway. Might as well have a little fun first.
He grabbed the communicator and held it to his mouth. “Everything’s good. We could use a little help, though. We took him down, but he got me in the leg. Hurts like a son of a bitch. This gray guy’s as big as a yanecat.”
The reply was instantaneous, and it didn’t sound happy. “Suck it up, shape yourself a new leg, and get over here. We’ve got fifty passengers to corral and there’s a damn battle going on outside, so we don’t have time for you to cry into your soup.”
Kalan paused for another moment, then decided to give it one more try. “Okay, I get it. Could you at least toss me down a medkit? I’m bleeding all over the place.”
The reply sounded both disgusted and resigned. “Hang on.”
Thirty seconds later a male carrying a medkit appeared in the hatch. Kalan promptly shot him in the head, then in the torso for good measure.
The communicator chirped again. “Uh, Uunard, what’s going on down there?”
Kalan struggled to keep the smile out of his voice as he answered, “The big guy wasn’t dead after all. I think we’re going to need another medkit.”
There was a long pause before the voice came through the comm again. “Listen, you stupid piece of shift-waste, in about three minutes this transport is going to be swarming with three dozen Pallicons. If you give yourself up, I’ll end you quick. Otherwise you’re going to be a long time dying. Do you know what we do to beings who kill Pallicons?”
“Do you bring them medkits?”
Kalan didn’t wait around to hear the hijacker’s response. Instead, he crept up the ladder and carefully stuck his head through the hatch.
As he’d suspected, the two remaining Pallicons were nowhere in sight. Most likely they’d retreated to the cockpit. The passengers still sat stone-faced and afraid, as if the hijackers were holding guns to each of their heads.
Kalan didn’t blame them. They weren’t accustomed to this sort of threat to their lives. Sadly, the same couldn’t be said for Kalan.
He stalked down the aisle toward the cockpit, knowing that no matter the outcome of this fight, he and the rest of the passengers were likely to die soon. As long as he took a few of these shapeshifting assholes with him, he’d die content.
When he reached the cockpit, someone stepped out and glared at him. Kalan almost laughed as he saw his own face staring back at him. The Pallicon had shifted into a perfect copy of him.
“If you’re trying to intimidate me, you should have shifted into someone less handsome,” he pointed out. It was an old Pallicon trick, Kalan knew. An average guy hesitated to punch himself in the face, even if he wasn’t the one wearing it.
Unfortunately for the Pallicons, Kalan wasn’t the average guy.
“I’ve always wondered if I could beat myself in a fight,” he said with a smile. “This is going to be fun.”
The Singlaxian Grandeur
Each time Valerie missed the ship, she became increasingly worried this whole space-shooting thing wasn’t for her. Give her a gun and a sword and she could take on an army by herself, but flying around space with only this hunk of metal to protect her while shooting crazy technology-driven laser beams at another ship? The idea was almost ludicrous.
And yet, it was exactly what was required of her if she were to pull this off.
“Oh, I have an idea!” Bob said, clinging onto the armrests of his chair as the ship spun again. “Try hitting them with the next one.”
“Try biting your own ear,” she replied. “But until you’re able, shut your stupid fucking mouth.”
“Anyone else feel like we’re in a hostile work environment?”
“SHUT UP!” Robin and Garcia said as one, and this time he listened.
Valerie was about to thank them, but instead she let out a yelp of excitement. A hit had finally landed on an enemy ship, tearing one of the wings. The ship was veering back and forth, overcompensating and then turning back toward them, and she fired again. With a series of connecting shots, the enemy ship was blasted into debris.
“Let’s hope those were the bad guys,” Garcia said with a chuckle. “I’d hate to find out we just blew up the local leadership’s personal guard or something worse.”
“They shot at us, ignoring my hail,” Valerie countered. “Of course they were the bad guys.”
He shrugged. “Either way, they’re dead now.”
“They were the bad guys,” she mumbled, swerving to avoid the debris of the enemy ship and then turning back toward the transport.
When she pulled up to the small ship she tried hailing it, but no response came—not even in the form of gunfire.
“Don’t blow it away,” Bob suggested.
“Oh, you were able to successfully bite your ear?” she asked. “Let’s see it, then.”
He glared, actually tried, and then glared again when he realized how stupid that had looked.
“Yeah, I didn’t think so.” She raised her eyebrows. “Which makes me wonder… Why are you talking?”
Robin cleared her throat. “I’m not sure if this is like two cats playing or two people flirting—it’s honestly confusing—so would you two stop and focus on the situation at hand?”
“Sorry.” Valerie blushed and maneuvered in closer, noticing a docking bay near on the transport ship. “Looks like we’re boarding her. We need to be sure she hasn’t been taken over by the enemy, because we need to get to that competition and right now this is our best bet.”
Docking wasn’t as easy as she had hoped, but they made a direct connection so there was no need for suits or pressurization chambers. They went in with everyone on guard, weapons at the ready.
Even without such things as movies back on Earth—those had only been introduced to Valerie in space, since Earth had lost much technology since the Great Collapse—Valerie was able to imagine all sorts of monstrous aliens within. Her mind went to strange places, like a being made of leaves, or maybe there would be a whole cadre of giant spiders. That really made her wonder what they’d be up against, but also made her laugh.
“Something’s funny?” Robin whispered at her side, preparing to turn the corner into the main cabin of the ship.
“Just… Odd that we were the monsters back home. I mean vampires and Weres… We were essentially boogeymen, only real. Now look at us, walking into a ship that could be filled with slime monsters or massive eyeballs that walk, for all we know.”
Robin frowned, then shook her head. “No, not funny. Ironic, yet terrifying.”
“But you’re ready, right? I can count on you?”
With a nod and a smile, Robin gestured. “After you.”
Valerie smiled and darted out of the hallway, only to freeze where she stood, mouth open as she stared in confusion.
What she found was no monster in the sense that she had imagined. Instead, the room was full of short tattooed people like the one she had seen on the plane
t, and two tall gray-skinned men fighting each other. What was odd, though, was that as far as she could tell there was no difference between the two. It was almost like watching a man fight himself in the mirror.
Not knowing how to proceed, she held up a hand for the others to halt. They would see how this played out, and only then interfere.
CHAPTER FOUR
Civilian Transport Shuttle
Kalan threw another punch and was relieved to see the Pallicon wearing his face go down. That alien could take a hit. He’d withstood three of Kalan’s best shots before finally falling to the deck.
He was vaguely aware that the airlock had opened during the fight, but he’d been too busy taking the shapeshifter down to pay it much attention. Now he saw four creatures watching him.
One look told him they weren’t Pallicons, or at least not Pallicons in their natural form.
He smiled sheepishly as the four gun-toting intruders marched down the aisle toward him. They weren’t the biggest beings he’d ever seen, but based on the way they carried themselves and the weapons they held, these four meant business. He picked a spot on the dark-haired woman’s head and stared at it while she approached, watching for the telltale signs. By the time she reached him, he was confident she wasn’t a shapeshifter.
“Drop the handgun,” the woman ordered.
Kalan quickly complied, letting the Tralen-14 slip from his hand with a pang of regret. He had really liked that weapon.
The woman looked at the body at Kalan’s feet, then up at him. Then back at the body. “What the hell is this? Is he your twin brother or something?”
“No, ma’am,” he said, his hands still high in the air. “He’s a Pallicon. They’re shapeshifters.”
In truth, the term “shapeshifters” didn’t accurately describe the beings. Young ones, like the six who’d attempted to hijack the shuttle, were limited to changing their shapes. However, as Pallicons grew older, they became more resilient. Kalan had seen a middle-aged Pallicon shrug off a gunshot wound like it was nothing. The creature had simply reshaped himself so the wound no longer existed.
Some said that elderly Pallicons were nearly unkillable; that you couldn’t give them an injury they couldn’t shift away. But the culture was so secretive it was impossible to distinguish truth from legend.
The brown-haired woman cast her gaze around the ship, then settled it back on Kalan. “You’d better start explaining. What happened here?”
Kalan opened his mouth to answer, but before he could he heard a voice behind him.
“I’ll tell you what happened. This one saved our lives!” The old Skulla female marched down the aisle toward them. “He unbuckled his harness, got out of his seat, and kicked their asses.”
The woman raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like our kind of guy. I’m Valerie.” She gestured toward her three companions. “The good-looking one is Robin. The other two are Garcia and Flynn.”
Kalan nodded a greeting. “I’m Kalan of Clan Gah’har’zakanew.” When he saw the looks on their faces, he quickly added, “Kalan Grayhewn is fine.”
“Kalan’s a hero,” the old female said. “He took down six Pallicons all by himself.”
Kalan tilted his head, remembering something. “Actually I only took down five. I got so caught up fighting my handsome lookalike that I forgot about the leader.”
Suddenly the sixth Pallicon rushed out of the cockpit, handgun raised and a snarl on his face.
Valerie moved so fast Kalan could barely track her movement. She whirled toward the male in a blur and lashed out, her hand striking him in the face so hard he slammed into the bulkhead and slid unconscious to the deck.
“Holy shit,” Kalan muttered. He’d seen some things in his time, but he’d never seen anyone move like that.
“Why’d you go so easy on him?” Robin asked.
Valerie shrugged. “I figured we might want to question him.”
Kalan took a small step backward. If that was going easy, he didn’t want to see this woman go all-out.
Ten minutes later he was on the Singlaxian Grandeur. They’d invited him aboard in a tone that made it clear it was mere politeness that kept it from being an order. After what he’d seen Valerie do, he wasn’t about to argue. His only regret was that he hadn’t had time to thank the old Skulla female for sticking up for him.
Garcia took him to a small cabin furnished with only a table and a few chairs, and told him to wait for Valerie. He did just that for the next twenty minutes. The wait didn’t bother him. He’d had a lot of practice over the years, and he’d come to enjoy the company of his own thoughts.
He spent the time thinking about what he might do next once this weird interview was over. He’d have to scrounge for new job prospects now that he’d missed his other interview. Starting over didn’t sound appealing. There were plenty of friends who could get him work if he was willing to step outside the law…
But no. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t go that route, and he intended to keep that promise.
He was so lost in his own thoughts that he started when the door slid open and Valerie and Garcia sauntered in. Valerie took the seat across from him and looked him in the eye, while Garcia remained standing and hovered behind her.
“Kalan Grayhewn,” Valerie said. “Let’s talk.”
“Ready when you are.” He didn’t mean the comment to come off as snarky, but this was beginning to feel like an interrogation.
“First question. Where’d you learn to fight like that? You a military man?”
“No, ma’am. Maybe in another life I would have gone that way, but in this one I’m a saby.”
Valerie’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you said you were a Grayhewn. Which is it?”
Kalan leaned forward in his seat, trying to figure out if the woman was joking. When he realized she wasn’t, he began to wonder where the hell she was from that she hadn’t heard of sabies.
“It’s short for ‘SEDE baby’, ma’am.” He waited for the light of recognition to come into her eyes. When it didn’t, he figured he’d better explain further. “The Swarthian Extended Detention Environment. ‘SEDE.’ It’s a prison. Largest in the galaxy, or at least that’s their claim. My mother was incarcerated there when I was born.”
“Ah, ‘SEDE baby.’ I get it.”
“Thing is, SEDE has a policy that any kids born in their prison have to stay there until they’re eighteen. In theory it’s to deter people from having kids aboard SEDE. Hope is, no parent wants to put a kid through that kind of hell. In reality, we end up with a bunch of kids who age out of the system with no skills other than the ones they learned in the galaxy’s toughest prison.”
“And you’re one of those?” Valerie asked.
Kalan nodded. “I know half the scumbags in the system. Shit, I grew up with most of them. But I’d like to think I picked up a few other skills, too, the kind that would make me employable. I’m a pretty decent pilot. I fix engines. I’m definitely not afraid to get my hands dirty. Seems potential employers don’t share my optimistic viewpoint, though. They tend to shy away from anyone with the word SEDE on their record, earned or not. I’ve been out five years, and I’ve yet to find consistent work.”
He tried to read her eyes as she listened to him, but he found he couldn’t. There was something odd about her, something that felt different than any being he’d ever encountered.
“Wait,” she interjected. “You said ‘aboard’ SEDE.”
“Yes, ma’am. SEDE’s a prison ship. Stays on the move, and its flight plan is top secret. Makes breaking out nigh impossible.”
“Geez, a flying prison,” Garcia observed, shaking his head in amazement.
Valerie said, “You’ve got a choice to make. You say you’re a pilot. I’ll bet the company who runs those shuttles would jump at the chance to hire a hero who just saved one of their ships from shapeshifting hijackers. Play your cards right, and I’ll bet you could build a nice little career for yourself.”
He
sat up a bit straighter. He hadn’t considered that. Being a shuttle pilot would be boring as dust, but it would be a steady job. “You said I had a choice. What’s the other option?”
“My team and I aren’t from around here.”
“You’re kidding,” he said dryly.
“We have a job to do in this system, and doing it will require us to get up close and personal with the locals. We could use a guy who knows the lay of the land. Someone who can stop me before I offend a whole culture by waving hello with the wrong hand or something.”
He considered that a moment. “I’m flattered, ma’am, but I’m not from around here either. I’ve spent most of my free life on the other side of the system.”
Valerie shrugged. “You said you know half the scum in the system. And it doesn’t hurt that you can handle yourself in a fight.”
“Huh.” He thought a moment. “And who exactly would I be working for? You’d be giving me my orders, but who gives you yours?”
She leaned forward and smiled. “The good guys.”
For some strange reason, he believed her. “That’s how it is? I don’t get to know who I’m working for?”
“You’re working for me. That should be enough. I’ll give you more details if and when they become relevant to the job.” She paused. “The only thing I’ll add is this… My intel says there’s a bully in this planetary system. We’re going to smack him down. You want to help?”
Kalan sighed. “I’ve always hated bullies.”
“Is that a yes?”
He paused a moment, then smiled. “I guess the shuttle companies will still be hiring when this is over.”
She held out a hand. “Welcome aboard, Grayhewn.”
He took her hand and she shook it in a strange up and down motion, not the backward-and-forward method he was used to. She really wasn’t from around here.
“So how the hell does a prisoner learn to be a pilot?” she asked.
Kalan chuckled. “That’s a strange story. It was all because a Yollin prisoner missed dinner. You see—”
