by L. S. Mercer
Sam ignored his friend and remained seated on the floor, panting even though he wasn’t truly tired.
Gerrig walked over to the terminal and checked to make sure it was still running. Upon confirmation, he began to search the database for Talon Deveroh, Sam’s brother. After a few minutes of loading, the name finally popped up and gave Gerrig a sense of panic as he read the screen.
“Sam?” He whispered.
Sam pulled himself to his feet and walked over to stand next to his large friend. As he read the page, his heart sank.
“Talon Slater, executed.” He mouthed.
A tear immediately formed in the corner of his eye and ran mournfully down his cheek.
“We should go.” Said Gerrig.
Sam seemed as though he hadn’t heard him; he stayed locked to the screen, broken and silent.
“Sam, Damon will leave us if we don’t go!” Urged Gerrig.
Sam slowly nodded and turned from the screen; He remained silent as he followed his friend to the door.
Damon chucked a pebble into the wall, the sound of it echoing loudly through the halls of the dungeon as if he’d been tossing boulders. There was a mound of rocks on his bed that he’d collected from the poorly made sandbed. It was starting to drive him crazy, tossing rocks against the wall for hours upon hours with nothing better to do.
Copper tossed over at the sound of the last rock that Damon had thrown, so he’d decided to stop and just lay there silently in the dark. There was literally nothing for him to do, not even a rock big enough to carve drawings into the walls of Drago getting punched in the face or burned alive. Yeah, it was petty, but nothing would please him more at that moment.
Growing too bored, Damon took one of the rocks and chucked it out of the cell bars and into the hallway. It made no sound. Damon pulled himself from his bed and tip-toed his way to the edge of the cell. Without warning, the rock came flying back into the cell, lightly hitting him in the chest and bouncing off the floor with the usual echo.
“Who’s there?” Asked Damon, trying to be quiet for the sleeping Eyres.
A low, creepy snicker came from the shadows in front of the cell.
“Damon Blackwing.” Whispered the voice.
“Creepy disembodied voice.” Replied Damon.
A light shot in front of the cell, illuminating everything around them. A man stood in front of the cell, though he wasn’t a normal looking man. Clad in a black warsuit; A large energy blade on his back, and very creepy red mechanical eyes. Whatever it was, it didn’t look very friendly.
“Embodied in a sense.” Said the man, moving closer to the bars.
Damon raised his brow at the man, unsure of how to respond to that mysterious statement.
“Who are you.” Asked Damon.
The man chuckled.
“Who I am is long forgotten. It’s what I am that matters here today.” He replied.
Damon nodded, pretending to understand what the strange individual was saying.
“A great evil will soon assault the galaxy. So I come to you in peace.” Said the man. “And with a gift.”
“A gift?” Asked Damon, taking a small step away from the bars.
The man raised his palm and the small pile of rocks from Damon’s bed came floating past his head. They began to move in a circle before his very eyes, causing Damon to become slightly freaked out.
“I’ve gone insane, that’s it.” Whispered Damon to himself.
The man laughed.
“No, this is very real.” He replied.
Damon reached out his hand as quickly as possible and grabbed a few pebbles out of the air. To his surprise, the pebbles remained in his hand. Not knowing what to do, he threw them onto the ground in a slight panic.
“If this isn’t a dream, what are you?” He asked.
“I created the monster to whom the galaxy would bow to.” Said the man. “Now I seek to form a balance.”
“A balance.” Repeated Damon.
The man nodded.
“He’s grown too powerful, and I fear only you can stop him.” He whispered.
Damon chuckled and looked around the cell.
“A little preoccupied at the moment actually.” He said.
The cell door clicked open and creaked as it moved on its own.
Damon stared at it in shock.
“Will you accept my gift?” Asked the man.
Damon thought about declining, but at the same time, he didn’t think there was much for him to lose at this point; He nodded.
“I’m quite weak, so I cannot offer you much.” Muttered the man as he reached out his arm towards Damon.
Damon grabbed his arm and with a sudden rush, energy shot through his entire body, causing him to feel every emotion a man could feel. It was like having your lifeforce renewed within seconds; He felt great.
“Use your mind, and the power will come naturally.” Said the man. “And take this.”
The man unhooked the energy blade and handed it over to Damon.
“These weapons will help you to project your power in battle. People with our powers have been using them for hundreds of years.”
Damon stared at the weapon with confusion.
“I don’t know how to use this.” He muttered.
“You will.” Reassured the man.
A loud explosion erupted from somewhere above them in the Royal District. Damon smiled to himself at the sound, he knew that the Alliance must have finally arrived.
“Fight your battle Damon Blackwing.” Said the man. “But save your strength.”
With that last warning, the man vanished into a puff of black mist. Damon stared at the spot where he’d been before, wondering if maybe he’d be able to teleport like that as well. He squeezed his brain, trying to for himself to move to the surface, but nothing happened. He lowered his shoulders in disappointed.
“Damon?” Asked Alloy.
Damon turned to look at the Eyres, who were both awake and standing at the end of the sandbed.
“We’re free.” Said Damon.
The Eyres both raised their hands to the air in excitement and began bouncing around the cell. Once they were ready, Damon led them out of the cell and into the hallway, holding his new weapon tightly within his grasp.
“We need to find a safe place to hide you guys.” He said. “I have a war to fight.”
Chapter 17
“But if we don’t get a fleet, the Ostillion’s will fail!” Complained Helen into her communicator.
“I’m sorry Helen.” Replied Jaffar, Helen’s father and the leader of the Ghan Empire. “We cannot spare any ships.”
Helen groaned in frustration.
“You don’t get it!” She shouted. “If Ostillion dies, Ghan is next!”
Jaffar remained silent.
“Humans have lost the galaxy.” She continued. “But Draxis promised to give it back.”
“I will make you a deal.” He replied. “I will personally come to see this Draxis character. If I approve, he will have his fleet. If I don’t, you must promise to return home with me.”
Helen nodded with a smile on her face.
“I promise.” She said.
“See you soon.” Said Jaffar.
The transmission fizzed out as Helen placed her communicator back onto her utility belt.
Draxis put up a hand to order everyone to stop. They all looked up at the monstrosity before them; A mountain in the perfect shape of a sword.
“We are here!” Roared Draxis with excitement.
He took another step forward but then turned to address the others.
“You should stay here. I will return with whatever is inside before nightfall.” He said.
“Nightfall?” Asked Talon as he rummaged through his lunch pale. “We have to be back before then!”
Draxis nodded at him.
“We will.” He promised.
Draxis turned and walked away from the group, up the hill to where he felt the entrance to the mountain
would be. As he walked, a strange feeling entered the pit of his stomach; He never thought he’d feel that again. With the many creatures of the Ostillion surface scattering as he walked, he wondered what was actually inside the mountain; They seemed fearful of entering.
It didn’t take long for him to come to a hole in the base of the mountain; So close to the entrance, but now he didn’t want to go in. He wanted to know what was inside so badly, but a part of him still didn’t trust Sylaris’ word. Draxis waited for at least ten minutes before finally deciding to take the risk; He entered the hole.
As he walked in, torches lit up on the walls on their own. The halls of the mountain were very architecturally detailed with strange hieroglyphic-like images etched the entire way through. He admired them as he walked: Quiet voices whispering through the air as if he were not the only one there.
Draxis stopped when he heard the soft sound of footsteps behind him, which was impossible unless someone had followed him in. The sound came to a halt at the same time that he did, so he switched his eyes to night vision to scan the darkness behind him since the torches seemed to have been going out behind him. It was hard to count the amount, but the entire hallway was filled with ancient looking Tracers; Draxis assumed that they must have been from the original creators.
They didn’t seem to be much of a threat, and technically he too was a Tracer; The chances of them attacking him and winning were minuscule at best. He turned and continued to walk through the tunnel. A few more minutes of walking with the discomfort of hundreds of stalkers behind, he came to a large door with strange, eroded symbols carved into it.
Draxis reached out his hand to try and open the door.
“Do not enter!” Shouted all the Tracers in unison.
Surprised by the startling roar, Draxis flipped around and stared at the Tracers. They’d once again become eerily silent.
“Sylaris sent me.” Said Draxis.
“Do not enter!” They all shouted again.
Although he didn’t want to hurt them, he was starting to get irritated by their demand. They’d be unable to stop him, but he didn’t want to waste any energy in fighting them.
“Stop me.” He growled.
They failed to respond this time, making him slightly nervous. He turned back to the door and placed his palm into the center of it. With a mighty shove, the door exploded under the pressure of the energy releasing from his hand. The Tracers remained still, so Draxis walked into the doorway; Ready to see what was the key to his power really was.
The room was empty aside from the promised chest sitting in the center. As he stepped in, a hanging cardis crystal lit up the room in a blood red color. Draxis moved towards the chest, making sure to turn and check on the Tracers every few steps in case they tried to jump him from behind.
“Welcome.” Said Sylaris, appearing behind the chest with a smile brightening his usual somber expression.
“Yeah.” Muttered Draxis.
Sylaris looked out the doorway to see the Tracers all piled in front of it.
“They do still work.” He whispered.
Draxis ignored his comment, kneeling down in front of the chest and trying to pry it open. The chest wouldn’t budge, even under the pressure of his energized arms. In a fit of frustration, Draxis slammed the bottom of his fist into the top of the chest.
“You didn’t think I’d make it that easy did you?” Asked Sylaris. “Only I can open it.”
Sylaris simply waved his hand over the chest and it opened with ease.
“Thanks.” Said Draxis in an almost mocking tone.
Sylaris nodded.
Inside the chest was a strange looking device that resembled a sword; It looked altered to use some sort of power, like electricity or more likely pulse energy. He pulled it out; As soon as the sword left the confines of the chest it powered up with a bright orange light, transforming into a double-edged blade before his very eyes.
“Looks, fiery.” Observed Draxis.
Sylaris ran his finger across the hilt of the blade; He seemed to be lost in memories.
“Powered by the touch of Pulsers.” He whispered. “Like you.”
“Pulsers?” Asked Draxis, rolling his mechanical eyes at the name.
Sylaris smiled.
“It’s what they used to call us.” He replied.
Draxis backed up and began to expertly swing the blade around, imagining that he was fighting a horde of Voorians. Quite pleased, he powered down the blade with just a thought and hooked it to the utility belt on his waist.
“Soon.” He seethed. “Soon, the entire galaxy will tremble at my feet.”
The night was calm as Draxis stared up at the sky, waiting for the Ghan transport to arrive so that the strike team could retrieve them. He could see the massive amounts of the strange, winged creatures flying above the dome; Staring hungrily at the occupants inside.
“It’s quite pretty, aside from the flesh-eating rats in the sky.” Said Talon, walking up beside Draxis.
“Pretty.” Repeated Draxis.
Talon watched him for a second and then returned his sights to the sky. Draxis wondered why Talon wasn’t nearly as terrified of him as the others, especially since he’d seen his memories. It was the perfect moment to put that conversation in progress that he’d wanted to have before.
“I know what you’re thinking.” Said Talon. “What do I know about you?”
Draxis, surprised that Talon had initiated the talk, nodded at him.
“Well, I’ve seen your entire life. Every moment sped up thousands of times.” He said, turning to Draxis. “Even though I don’t know the details, I know that you are just a good person who’s done bad things. I know that you are struggling to control this otherworldly power that seems to be slowly destroying you as a person by the minute.”
Draxis chuckled at the mechanic’s observations.
“What about you?” He asked.
“Me?” Asked Talon.
“Yeah, you.”
“Escaped from the Kharan Royal District and came home to save my people.” He mumbled.
Draxis raised his eyebrow and placed his hand on Talon’s shoulder.
“They’re in good hands.” Said Draxis.
“Now they are.” Replied Talon. “The people you saved from the work camps really look up to you.”
“Yeah.” Whispered Draxis to himself.
Talon looked down at the blade on Draxis’ hip; The firelight of his torch shown in his eyes in a sinister fashion, causing Draxis to shift uncomfortably.
“You know, a sword doesn’t fare well in a firefight.” He commented.
Draxis grinned at him and let his guard back down.
“A firefight doesn’t fare well against me.” He replied.
Before Talon could reply, a large ship shot into the atmosphere and plummeted down to the ground. It looked as though it might be a crash landing, but just as the Eradicator had, it came to an immediate halt on the ground near the dome.
Talon and Draxis both moved immediately to the dome entrance to wait for the squad to bring them inside. As they got there, the fighters were just leaving the dome; Draxis sat down in one of the stone chairs lining the large greeting room.
“So you have to impress daddy?” Asked Talon, grinning as he sat down next to Draxis.
“As do you!” Shouted Helen, who was just entering the room through the other doo.
Talon’s face went bright red.
“What if he doesn’t want to help us?” Asked Draxis.
Helen smiled and sat down on the other side of him.
“He will help us.” She assured him.
“Don’t forget that Ghan needs this war just as much as Ostillion.” Said Talon.
The doors to the dome opened up and everyone entered together, unharmed. The King was easy to spot in his gold flaked, black robe and ornate crown; He smiled wide at his daughter, who grew very excited by his presence.
“Helen!” He shouted as she ran up to embrace hi
m.
Jaffar opened his arms and wrapped them tightly around her.
“You look good!” He said.
Draxis slowly rose from his seat and stood as tall as he could, trying to make himself look like one of the old, posh nobles from back in the day. When Jaffar finished his greetings with Helen, he looked past her at the self-proclaimed emperor. His mouth curled into a frown as he examined Draxis.
“You didn’t tell me he was a tracer.” Whispered Jaffar in a disappointed tone.
Draxis heard him from across the room; His hearing being amplified more than a human.
“A tracer, yes.” Grumbled Draxis as he walked over to join the crowd, followed by Talon.
Jaffar seemed surprised by how fluidly he spoke.
“Actually, he’s technically a cyborg.” Interjected Talon.
He knew that Draxis was getting annoyed rather quickly.
“Well, it comes full circle then.” Replied Jaffar. “Humans enslaved Tracers, now Tracers rule humans. Quite comical really.”
“Father!” Shouted Helen.
Jaffar’s personal guard began to snicker amongst themselves; This angered Draxis even more than Jaffar’s commentary. He furiously thrust his hands forward, causing the guard to fly across the room in all directions.
“Enough!” He roared.
Jaffar fell back in terror, grabbing his daughter by the shoulder to protect her.
“Make fun of the situation all you want.” Hissed Draxis. “But know this. If you aren’t with me, you are my enemy. And I annihilate my enemies!”
Everyone in the room remained silent, each afraid of what Draxis was about to do. After venting, he let them all go and walked back to his seat.
He knew that everyone was still staring at him; Yet he just stared forward, like a tracer.
“Th-that power.” Gasped Jaffar. “A pulser.”
Draxis continued to stare forward.
“Just like the stories.” Confirmed Helen, smiling over at her leader.
Jaffar ignored his daughter, moving over to Draxis; He was awestruck.
“Draxis.” He said in a near whisper.
Draxis dramatically looked down at him as he bent his knee.
“You have your fleet, my Lord.”
