by L. S. Mercer
“You may have power.” Growled Draxis. “But you have always been weak.”
Damon felt the insult grow as an anger within him; his deep-rooted hatred for his brother’s views erupting in a show of violence. Swing after swing, he exhausted much of his energy just releasing the tension that had been building within him since childhood.
“I’m, not, weak!” He screamed as he took another shot at his brother.
Draxis dodged once again, as he had for every other attack. A smile crossed his lips as he saw a flaw in Damon’s form; He stabbed at Damon’s backside, barely grazing the right side of his hip. Damon tumbled over in agony, grabbing his hip with a desperation to make the pain go away.
“Why are you doing this Damon?” Asked Draxis, kicking his energy sword from his fingers. “I’ve always been the better fighter.”
Damon spat at his brother and kicked his leg through the dirt, throwing sand all over him.
“If only you could see the good in all of this.” Draxis mumbled. “I’m doing this for our people.”
Damon shook his head in disappointment.
“You bombed the Alliance. There’s nothing good about you.” He replied.
“The Alliance can barely hold their last outpost. They are unfit to rule the galaxy.”
Damon tried to stand, but Draxis kicked him back into the dirt.
“Join me, or die!” He hissed, once again activating his sword.
“No.” Damon replied.
Draxis grinned wildly as his eyes predicted the many different ways to execute his little brother. For a moment, he became worried about himself. How could he have fallen this far? Was he really willing to kill his own brother for the good of his people? Or was the urge to murder him more of a selfish thing? The answer was yes, of course he was willing to kill his brother; he couldn’t allow anyone to share the same power as him.
“Sorry Damon.” He whispered.
Draxis raised his sword into the air over his brother’s chest. He watched as his brother closed his eyes to accept his fate. Sam, Gerrig, and Sebastian all stared at the brothers in horror, wondering if Draxis was really going to do it. Draxis smiled as the sword went straight for Damon’s heart.
“No!” Screamed Sam.
* * *
The sword had almost reached its mark when suddenly a loud bang erupted from behind Draxis. The sword clanged against the ground as it deactivated. He turned to see what had happened, a cold sensation rushing through his body. Gerrig locked eyes with Draxis, holding a freshly fired pistol in his hand.
“You fool.” Said Draxis.
He began to slowly break into a laugh and step towards Gerrig and Sam.
“Tracer, remember?” Asked Draxis.
The sword behind him began to float and follow its master. Gerrig didn’t know what to do; he’d only thought to the part of stopping the execution. Now he was stuck with a charging pulse pistol and no defense aside from his scrawny little friend.
Draxis stopped abruptly, still smiling at Gerrig, but no longer seeming interested in killing him. As the sword dropped back to the ground, Draxis turned to see Damon trying to stand up, which he could not allow to happen. With a raise of a hand once again, he crushed Damon under a blanket of energy. After neutralizing his biggest threat again, Draxis turned back to the crowd of people watching him. His soldiers stood where Damon had thrown them, waiting for his orders.
“Kill them all.” He demanded with a smile.
Gerrig turned and shot at the soldiers as the other two ran back to the medical bay. Sam turned just in time to see Gerrig fall onto the ground, blood creating a pond around his body.
“No!” Shouted Sam as he shut and locked the door.
“To the back!” Urged Sebastian, pulling on Sam’s armor straps.
“I’m gonna kill them!” Sam screamed, punching the door multiple times in a fit of rage.
Sebastian pulled harder, forcing Sam away from the door.
“And we will. We just need a plan.” Reassured Sebastian as he rummaged through the medicine cabinets.
“You cannot kill him.” Said Elias.
Sebastian and Sam both turned to the corner of the room. Sebastian stared at his former companion with a mix of hatred and despair; while Sam pulled out a dagger, ready to face him.
“Wait!” Exclaimed Sebastian.
Elias raised two pulse pistols into the air. One for the doctor and one for Sam.
“Comply, and you will live.” He said.
Sam chuckled.
“You don’t know who I am.” Said Sam. “Don’t make demands of me.”
Elias didn’t budge; he simply remained silent.
“Elias please.” Begged Sebastian. “We’re friends.”
“We are not friends Doctor. I was only a slave to you.” Replied Elias.
“A slave?” He asked. “Why would you think that?”
Elias decided not to answer. Instead, he fired the pistol at Sebastian. He cried out in pain as he fell back into the row of medicine cabinets, clutching his shoulder.
Sam sprang into action, too fast even for one such as Elias to calculate his movements. Before he even had a chance to react, a dagger plunged into the side of his mechanical brain. The A.I. sputtered for a moment before powering down. Sam felt the need to watch it for a second to make sure that it wouldn’t reactivate before rushing to the aid of the doctor.
“Are you okay?” He asked in a frantic tone.
“I’m fine kid.” Mumbled Sebastian.
“Okay, what do we do?” Asked Sam, checking out the doctor’s wounds.
A loud bang smacked the door of the medical bay. It sounded like breaching charges being placed against it or something of a similar nature. They both knew that with charges they’d only have seconds to come up with some idea before the soldiers accessed the room.
“I’m no good with guns.” Sebastian forced out, moving his back against the cabinet.
“Great.” Muttered Sam.
Sam walked over and picked up Elias’ pistols; he wasn’t sure how effective a couple of pistols would be against the fully automatic carbines that the Ghan troops were carrying, but they’d have to do.
“I think I’m ready.” Sam whispered.
To Sebastian, it sounded like more of a way to falsify his confidence instead of being so. He wondered how long it would take before the soldiers gunned them both down; how quickly they would pick to fire upon him instead of the gun wielder since he was so defenseless. All the wonders, with no way to actually calculate his own odds of survival. To make himself feel better, he grabbed a scalpel that was laying next to him.
“Really?” Asked Sam.
Sebastian shrugged his good shoulder.
“You never know.” He replied.
The charges exploded and the debris from the door flew to the side. Sam raised the guns to fire on anyone turning the corner; Sebastian closed his eyes, ready for his final moments.
Chapter 22
The Eradicator released the bombs. Helen watched as they erupted throughout the Trade District; she wondered how many lives would be taken from them, who were they really bombing. Not that she cared, it was simply out of curiosity. As the ship shook from the pulse energy flying back up into the atmosphere, a heavy grin spread across her face.
“Turn her around boys!” She ordered as she turned to leave the bridge.
The ship swung through the air like a massive wrecking ball, running through some of the Kharan’s communicator antennas. Helen made her way to the exit ramp, where many of her squad were already geared up and ready to drop. She leaned up against the wall to give her balance while she put on her jet boots.
“Here Milady.” Said one of the soldiers, holding out a carbine for her.
Helen grabbed the rifle and nodded at him.
“Let’s give them hell.” She said.
Another soldier chuckled.
“We already have.” He replied.
The ramp began to open and everyone turned on
their boots for a quick, clean drop onto the battlefield.
“Remember, Draxis is expecting this planet to be the Empire’s new capital. Burn it all to the ground!” Shouted Helen.
Everyone let out a deafening battle cry as they all leaped from the exit ramp and into the sky. With a slight bit of wavering, Helen herself jumped out, ready to begin a war that she’d been fantasizing about for years. She just wasn’t quite sure how it would all play out in the end.
* * *
Sam jumped against the wall, out of sight of the medical bay’s entrance hall. He knew he was taking a chance, but he stuffed one of the pistols in the front of his jeans and pulled out a dagger instead. As soon as the first soldier turned the corner, he pounced. Jumping on the soldier, he stabbed him multiple times and doubled him as a human shield against the others; he began to fire. The soldiers retreated almost immediately, having not expected such an excessive display of ingenuity. Sam briefly admired the couple of bodies that he’d dropped before ducking back behind the wall and pulling out the second pistol again.
“Doc, you should really take this.” Urged Sam.
Sebastian shook his head.
“I told you, I hate guns.” He whined.
Sam sighed and aimed one of the pistols toward the corner to wait for more infiltrators. Suddenly, a carbine peaked around the corner. Sam jumped to the side as the rifle began to spray all around the wall. He could barely see the soldiers leg peaking out from the corner where he was shooting; he calculated only about two seconds before they’d assume he was dead and rush the room.
“Now.” He whispered to himself.
Just as predicted the soldiers entered in unison and Sam opened fire with both pistols from the comfort of the medical bay’s floor. His right leg exploded in pain as a desperate shot landed with a through and through; he kept firing. As the soldiers all dropped to the ground, Sebastian breathed a sigh of relief as he scooted over to his injured hero.
“Not bad for a rookie.” Noted Sebastian, looking at Sam’s rank patch.
Sam ignored him as he moaned in agony at the injuries he’d obtained.
“Okay, let me just.” Muttered Sebastian, rubbing his palm against his chin. “Aha!”
Sebastian ripped a piece of Sam’s shirt and tied it tightly against the wound; he didn’t have time to remove the bullet. As Sebastian looked around for anything else to help with both of their pain, he realized how poorly prepared this particular medical facility really was.
“What now?” He asked, continuing to look for things.
“We wait.” Stuttered Sam.
* * *
Helen’s boots collided with the roof of a halfway broken down tavern. She made note of how nice it used to be before their little excursion. The thought actually made her feel bad about it for a second, but she overcame that feeling pretty quickly. From her vantage point, she could almost see the entire battle playing out before her very eyes; the Kharan desperately fighting the Ghan troops for their home back; the Alliance held up in an advantageous tower, firing down on her troops as if they were nothing.
“Hmm.” She thought to herself, filled with sadistic pleasure. “How to break down that tower.”
She knew that with the positioning of her troops, that tower wasn’t going anywhere without taking a loss themselves, so it wasn’t really an option as long as they were beneath it. On the other hand, if she were to order them to retreat from it, the Alliance would be smart enough to realize what was going on and launch a counteraction against them. There were pretty much no options with a good result.
It was a waste of time for her to sit on the tavern and observe when she could be in the battle, so she jumped off the edge and landed near a couple of her troops.
“Quarter is already retreating Milady!” Shouted a soldier over the sound of pulse bombs blowing up in the distance.
Helen shot an Alliance trooper running across the street. She smiled as he flew to the side and lay motionless in the dirt.
“Good!” Replied Helen. “Now we need that tower!”
The soldier nodded and ran back to his troop to give orders. Helen watched as her teams expertly swept through the district with minimal losses compared to the big hit that the other sides were taking. They must have struck just in time to catch both sides at their weakest points.
Suddenly, the troop that she had just commanded began to run for their lives, followed by the sound of a very heavy pounding on the other side of their cover. Helen watched as a large mechanical boar, outfitted with what looked to be starship weaponry, walked straight into the wall. The wall shattered to pieces. A loud boisterous laughter erupted from inside.
Helen knew who it was, just like anyone in the galaxy would; Val’Drago.
“Princess Helen Slater is it?” Asked Val’Drago, his boar firing and taking out two of the Ghan troops.
Helen ignored him, keeping her rifle ready to fire at any moment.
“What brings one such as you to the battlefield?” He asked.
Drago’s cockpit opened up and he bravely stepped out, as if not fearing death in the slightest.
“You’ve lost Val’Drago!” Shouted Helen.
Drago stepped down from his death machine.
“I know.” He replied, sounding somewhat emotional. “But I’ve done my part.”
“Your part?” Asked Helen, becoming defensive.
Drago smiled at her as he came to a stop right in front of her.
“The Kharan are weak Helen of Ghan.” He mumbled, his smile turning to a sad frown. “It’s time for a change. Time for a new power to rule.”
Helen couldn’t believe what she was hearing. The ruthless leader of Kharan standing right in front of her saying that he wants Kharan to die. She stared at him with wide eyes full of confusion and wonder. What angle was he playing? It had to be some sort of trick.
“Helen, there’s more going on here than even you realize. You’ve followed blindly, and I have done the same. Now, with all of the pawns in place around the king, the real power moves in for a checkmate.” He whispered.
“What?” Asked Helen.
“I’ve done my part, now it’s your turn.” He muttered.
Before Helen could ask any more of the King, he backed up and pulled out his pistol. She stared at him in horror as he put the gun to his head and pulled the trigger. He fell to the ground with a massive thud and became still as the pistol rolled from his hands. Val’Drago was dead.
“So it is.” Rasped a voice from behind Helen.
She spun around in surprise at the creepiness of the voice. A man stood just inches away from her, his black armor shining under the Kharan suns. Something about him reminded her of Adrian, although this man was already putting off a much more sinister vibe.
“W-who are you?” She asked.
“My name is Sylaris.” He replied in his raspy, mechanical-like voice.
The name sounded familiar to her, but she couldn’t place it. She stared at him with confusion.
“You need not speak a word, Helen.” He said. “Just listen.”
Helen nodded as she watched him begin to pace back and forth, staring at her.
“The Alliance is retreating via my order to do so. And with Val’Drago dead, so are the Kharan. You will order the blockade to allow them passage.”
“Wait, what?” She blurted out, cutting him off. “I can’t just let them run away, Draxis would hate me.”
Sylaris used his powers to rip Helen’s guns from her hands with such force that she almost fell over. His power caught her off guard; she immediately took a step back from him. As the gun melted under Sylaris’ grasp, Helen began to see how much more powerful he truly was.
“You will obey me, just as Draxis has. Just as Striker has. And the same as Val’Drago. Are you understanding what’s going on here?” He growled.
Helen dropped to her knees and bowed her head to Sylaris.
“What are your orders my Lord.” She whispered.
A low ch
uckle, dripping with amusement slipped from Sylaris’ voice box.
“Order your troops to surround the Kharan work camps and kill anyone who leaves it.” He demanded.
Helen looked up at him once again, her eyes wide with concern.
“What about Draxis?” She asked.
“He will be fine, you have my word.” Replied Sylaris; a bit of disappointment crossed into his voice for a moment.
Helen bowed her head to him once more.
“It will be done.” She said.
Chapter 23
“Mom always said not to play with my food.” Mumbled Draxis.
Throwing his hands violently towards the wall, Damon flew into it, his arm cracking as he slammed into the bricks. Draxis giggled with glee at the suffering of his own brother; he walked towards Damon as he pulled himself up against the dented wall.
“You know, Saia didn’t even know it was me.” He whispered.
Damon grinned at his brother, blood covering his teeth.
“You weren’t exactly pretty at the time.” He replied.
Draxis put his hands up again but Damon finally countered it; their power clashed against each other, causing a wave of energy to become visible between them.
“You know what’s crazy brother?” Asked Damon as he stood up, maintaining the balance of power. “Some dude just showed up and gave me this stuff.”
Draxis raised his eyebrow at him, wondering what game he was playing this time.
“Some dude?” He asked.
“Yep, and the sword. I think someone really wants you dead.” Replied Damon.
With his other hand, Damon summoned his weapon back to him, it flew into his palm with amazing accuracy.
“Smooth.” Admired Draxis.
With a sudden leap backward, Draxis flipped through the air and landed next to his own sword. He smiled over at Damon as the sword floated gracefully into his hands. Both of them activated their weapons in unison and began walking towards each other.
“It doesn’t matter who gave you the power.” Draxis grinned. “It isn’t going to last long.”
Damon ignored the jab; he didn’t care what his brother had to say to him, If it was even still his brother. Draxis had the same attitude, but Damon couldn’t imagine his own brother trying to take over the galaxy or using his power against innocent people. That part wasn’t really like him. Back in the day, Adrian was a mischievous individual with a big heart. Though he’d always acted tough, there was a good cause hidden underneath. This time was different; he acted as if he just wanted to kill everything.
