The Falken Chronicles

by Piers Platt

  “Just checking in,” Quiss said. “How’s your wounded guest doing?”

  “Better,” Falken said. “He’s stabilized now. Is the Liberty Belle on station yet?”

  “Any minute, brother, any minute. Listen, we’re going to suspend our tours this afternoon until you guys have transferred over safely and are back up in space. We don’t want to stir up the hornet’s nest, you know?”

  “I appreciate it, Quiss. Anything else?”

  “That’s it for now,” Quiss said.

  “Okay,” Falken said. “I better sign off and get everyone ready. Oh, and Quiss?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks again for everything. It was a real help to us,” Falken said, “knowing that you were keeping such a close eye on things down here—”

  Kuda cut the connection, and slammed the butt of his pistol into the back of Falken’s head. Falken grunted and shook his head, wincing at the pain.

  “Test me like that again, and it’ll be the last thing you do,” Kuda snarled.

  *

  Quiss frowned and shut the communications link off. Across the map table from him, Hylie frowned too, swiveling slowly in her captain’s chair.

  “Did he just hang up on you?” she asked.

  “Maybe?” Quiss asked. “I know they’ve had a rough go of it, but … that was a little odd.”

  “You’d be stressed out, too,” Hylie said.

  “I would, sure,” Quiss said. “But this is Falken we’re talking about.”

  The ship’s computer sounded a gentle alarm. Hylie turned and looked down at the nearest display, and then glanced up through the cockpit window. “Can’t see ‘em yet, but the Liberty Belle just arrived,” she said. She switched channels on the radio, and then pressed down on a button.

  “Liberty Belle, Adrenaline Junkies, over.”

  Quiss walked over to the captain’s station, standing behind her to peer out the viewport. “They’re a few minutes late,” he said.

  Hylie pressed the button again. “Liberty Belle, this is Adrenaline Junkies, over.”

  The radio remained quiet. In the distance, they saw a small white-gray dot of a ship appear from out of the dark of the star field, decelerating as it moved toward the atmosphere of Olympus.

  “Maybe they called the research center first,” Quiss guessed.

  “Could be.”

  On a hunch, Hylie tapped a command into her computer. The heads-up display over the cockpit window traced a red outline around the Liberty Belle, and then their view of the ship expanded, the sensors zooming in on the ship.

  “What the fuck is that?” Hylie asked, sitting up straighter in her chair. Instinctively, her fingers took hold of the ship’s steering controls.

  “They’re … towing something? Another ship?” Quiss shook his head. “What’s going on, Hylie?”

  Hylie lit the ship’s engines. “I don’t know, but I don’t like this at all.”

  On the display in front of them, a section of the ship being towed flashed briefly, like a camera bulb had gone off along the hull.

  “What was that?” Quiss asked.

  Hylie threw power to the ship’s engines, swerving hard away from the Liberty Belle and the other ship.

  “Hylie?!” Quiss asked, grabbing a hand-grip on the ceiling to steady himself as the ship lurched.

  “Warning: space debris detected,” the ship’s computer said. “Collision imminent.”

  “That’s not space debris,” Hylie said, gritting her teeth as she jerked the ship through another tight turn. “They shot a goddamn missile at us.”

  *

  Auresh watched as the tourist ship dropped into a steep dive toward the planet’s atmosphere.

  “They’re evading,” one of the crewmembers on the bridge reported. “Missile’s got a good lock, though.”

  Cadellium leaned forward, staring at the vidscreen intensely. “Can they dodge it?”

  “They can try,” Auresh said. “Kind of pointless, though. Just delays the inevitable.”

  On the vidscreen, the missile closed with the Adrenaline Junkies. Suddenly, the missile exploded, throwing shrapnel in a wide arc through space. Auresh saw the ship shudder, and its engines flicker off.

  “There we go,” Auresh said. “Give me a damage assessment.”

  “Direct hit on the aft quarter,” a crewmember said. “Computer model says eighty to ninety percent of core systems should be damaged or offline.”

  “Will they survive?” Cadellium asked Auresh.

  “Not unless they bail out,” Auresh said. He held up a hand, silencing Cadellium’s follow-up question. “Distress beacon?” he asked.

  A crewmember nodded. “Yeah, it’s already active.”

  “Send the signal,” Auresh commanded.

  “CGS Extremis, this is Liberty Belle,” Captain Muir’s voice emanated from the bridge’s speakers. In the recording, her tone was brusque – Auresh’s men had had to force the speech from her at gunpoint.

  “This is the CGS Extremis,” they heard Commander Jiyake reply.

  “Roger, we have arrived at Olympus – beginning rescue operations now. You may be picking up an emergency beacon signal from the Adrenaline Junkies – they tell me they’re having some sort of electrical problems. Just disregard the signal.”

  “CGS Extremis, roger,” Jiyake replied. “Can you keep us posted on the status of the rescue?”

  “Gotta go,” the recording of Muir said, abruptly. “Liberty Belle out.”

  Cadellium raised an eyebrow. “That last recording wasn’t quite right. She’ll find that strange, no?”

  “The less time we spend trying to maintain the charade, the better,” Auresh told him. “They can’t come investigate, anyway.”

  On the bridge vidscreen, Auresh saw a pair of life rafts detach from the dark, drifting hull of the Adrenaline Junkies’ craft.

  “Get me the research center on the radio,” he said. “And prepare for descent.”

  *

  Hylie took a deep breath, and then let it out. Through the life raft’s narrow porthole, she watched as the wreck of her ship disappeared into the distance, spinning slowly as it leaked what remained of its internal air supply.

  “Captain Hylie?”

  She turned away from the window and unbuckled her safety belt, floating upward in the raft’s micro-gravity. “Yeah?”

  The guest, a younger woman, looked close to tears. “Are we going to die out here?”

  Hylie shook her head. “No, no. Both this raft and the one Quiss is in have enough air, food, and water to last for more than a week. When we bailed out of the ship, that automatically turned on an emergency beacon. The beacon sent a distress signal to Harrison’s Waypoint, where you guys first flew in from.”

  “Oh,” she said, relieved. “That was only a few hours away.”

  “Right,” Hylie said, smiling at the other guests in the raft. “I’m sure they’re already getting another ship ready to send our way. We just have to hang out until they get here and pick us up, is all.”

  “What happened?” the woman asked.

  Hylie frowned. The last thing they need to hear is somebody shot at us. “Uh, I’m not sure. I think something malfunctioned in our power core, and started a chain reaction that knocked out the ship’s engines and life support. Again, I’m truly sorry for the scare, and the inconvenience.” I hope Quiss has enough sense not to tell his raft what happened, either.

  “What about the ship that came to rescue those folks down on the surface?” one of the men asked. “Couldn’t they pick us up?”

  “They may be on the surface a while,” Hylie lied. “And they’re trying to rescue folks that are in a much more desperate situation. We’re better off getting our own rescue, I think.”

  “Nothing to worry about, then?” he asked.

  “Nope,” she smiled. “Nothing at all.”

  Unless those bastards decide to come finish us off.

  Chapter 23

  On the vidscreen in
the research center’s lounge, the radio call icon flashed.

  “The Liberty Belle is here,” Falken said, eyeing Kuda and his handgun warily. “They’re hailing us.”

  “About time,” Shep muttered.

  Kuda pointed the controller at the screen, answering the call.

  “Ground team, this is Starfarer,” a gruff voice said.

  That’s not Captain Muir, Falken thought, a pit settling into his stomach.

  “This is ground team,” Kuda replied. “We have control of the research center.”

  “Roger,” the new voice replied. “Report.”

  “Six hostages, one of them injured,” Kuda said. “No injuries on ground team. Research center data archives intact. Awaiting instructions.”

  “How many dragons are at the center?”

  Kuda frowned. “None. They released them all several months ago, according to the scientists here.”

  “Then you need to acquire some new ones, don’t you?” the voice asked.

  “Yeah, we do,” Kuda agreed.

  “We’ll remain in orbit until you’ve secured them,” the voice told them.

  “What’s the status of the other tourist ship?” Shep asked, speaking for the first time.

  “Neutralized,” the voice replied. “Now get to work.” With an abrupt click, the line went dead.

  Falken’s eyes narrowed. “Your friends shot down Hylie and Quiss?”

  “Not your concern, Falken,” Shep said.

  “The Adrenaline Junkies saved me,” Falken insisted. “If it wasn’t for them, none of us would have made it off the Ecolympus.”

  “I’ll be sure to thank any survivors on our way out,” Shep sneered. He pointed at Brondi and Luthena. “Stand up. You’re going to catch us some dragons. A male and a female, preferably.”

  “You’re thinking of breeding them? That’s a terrible idea,” Luthena said. “None of the specimens we had under observation here ever showed any interest in mating while in captivity.”

  “When we want your scientific opinion, we’ll ask for it,” Shep told her.

  “They’re dangerous enough to handle as it is,” Brondi continued. “But males and females kept in close proximity to one another tend to become extra aggressive.”

  “I don’t want to hear it,” Shep said, exasperated. “You’re going to help us, or I’m going to start shooting your friends here. Got it?”

  “What happens to us after you take the dragons?” Falken asked.

  “We leave you here,” Kuda said.

  “You’re not going to kill us?” Vina asked.

  “Assuming everyone cooperates – including helping to catch the dragons – then we’ll just leave you here for the next rescue ship to find,” Kuda said. “Now let’s get going.”

  Luthena and Brondi shared a look. “We have proxies in storage that we can use,” Luthena said. “It’s the safest way to handle the capture.”

  Brondi nodded. “I can dust off the sensory displacement pods, and get them warmed up.”

  “How many proxies?” Shep asked.

  “Four, last I checked,” Luthena said. “So we better hope that’s enough.”

  Falken rose slowly to his feet. “I’ll go, too. You’re going to need help.”

  “That we will,” Brondi agreed.

  Kuda’s eyes narrowed. “And I’ll be your fourth man.”

  Falken shook his head. “No. You’re too inexperienced around dragons. You’ll just increase the likelihood that we lose the proxies.”

  “That wasn’t a question,” Kuda said. “I’m not letting the three of you out of my sight. I’m coming, end of story.”

  “You’ll just have to make sure you do it right the first time, Falken,” Shep warned. “‘Cause if not, you’ll be going out there in your own skin to finish the job.”

  *

  Vina watched as Falken pulled his arm through the body suit’s sleeve, the thin fabric stretching.

  “It’s too small,” she said.

  “It’s the biggest suit they had,” Falken said, shrugging it over his shoulders.

  Across the room, Luthena and Kuda were tugging their own suits on – Kuda had handed his weapon to Shep for safekeeping. Brondi flitted between the displacement pods, checking hoses and power cords that were covered in a thin layer of dust.

  “Falken, you better take unit five,” he said. “Four’s got a leaky air hose.”

  “Got it,” Falken said. He stepped over to the unit and swung the lid open, then accessed a settings menu on the control panel.

  “What are you doing?” Vina asked.

  “Disabling the trauma cutoff,” Falken told her. “Normally the proxies are programmed to stop streaming their feed at a certain level of damage. Basically, if your proxy is being torn apart by a dragon, it severs the connection before it gets too traumatic for you to experience. But the proxy can still function at that point, technically. So even if I’ve only got a torso and one arm working, I want to stay in it, in case I can somehow help with the capture. We don’t have the luxury of being grossed out on this.”

  “Good luck,” Vina said, a frown of worry crossing her face. “Be careful out there.”

  “You be careful in here,” Falken told her, eyeing Shep across the room. Falken took Vina in his arms, pulling her close for a hug, surprising her. “The research center has a long-range communicator,” he told her, whispering in her ear. “If you can do so without alerting Shep, try to get a signal to the police at Harrison’s Waypoint.”

  “Ready, Falken?” Brondi asked.

  “Ready,” he said. He let go of Vina and climbed into the displacement pod.

  *

  Falken opened his eyes and found himself standing in the dim twilight of the research center’s vehicle bay. A chest harness was holding him in place – he unbuckled it and stepped down into the bay. Beside him, three other proxies stepped out of their own harnesses within the container. All were generic, nondescript male proxies – unlike the versions he and his guests had used on the Ecolympus, these proxies were not built to resemble their user.

  He saw one of the proxies turn and open a footlocker next to the container. The proxy pulled out several items of gear, including a permanent marker. Then the proxy drew a large, black L on its chest.

  “I’m Luthena,” she said. “Who’s who?”

  “Brondi,” the proxy standing next to her said, pointing to himself. “Good idea.” She marked a large B on his chest, then labeled both Falken and Kuda, too.

  “Okay,” Luthena said, capping the marker and tucking it away. “Let’s gear up.”

  Falken took a noise cancellation staff out of the locker and slung it across his chest, setting it to Active Cancellation mode. Then he activated a second staff and handed it to Kuda.

  “It’s already on,” Falken said. “Don’t mess with it.”

  “Okay,” Kuda said.

  Brondi and Luthena had donned their own staffs as well.

  “How do you want to trap?” Falken asked them.

  “We’ve got spring-snares and tranquilizer guns,” Luthena said, passing out short-barreled rifles to each of them. “No sense going very far. I’d suggest we set the snares right outside the vehicle bay, then put a couple staffs in Lure mode, and take cover just inside the bay. Whatever lands we tranquilize, then get the hell back inside.”

  “How do the tranquilizers work?” Kuda asked, eyeing his weapon.

  “Just like a regular gun,” Brondi said. “Which I assume you’re familiar with.”

  “The snares will hold the dragons close to the ground, if we anchor them right. Then we’ll have a better chance of hitting them with a dart. The tranquilizers are dosed to put an average-sized dragon to sleep for a couple hours,” Falken explained.

  “What if more than two dragons come?” Kuda asked.

  “Then we cross our fingers, and hope we have enough darts to fend them all off,” Luthena said. “Otherwise they get a nice meal of proxies.”

  She slung he
r gun over one arm and pulled a large case off of a shelf on the wall, grunting. “Damn things are heavy even for a proxy to carry. Falken, get the other one?”

  “Got it,” he said.

  They each grabbed a handle, Falken and Kuda carrying one case, Brondi and Luthena the other. When they reached the bay’s outer door, Brondi set his side of the case down and jogged over to a control panel mounted on the rocky face of the wall.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  “Ready,” Luthena said.

  Brondi hit the door switch, and the door shuddered and then rose slowly up into the ceiling, squeaking slightly as it did so.

  Back outside again, Falken thought.

  Beyond the bay door, the wrecked Ecolympus truck sat facing them. The morning’s rain had passed, but the day remained cloudy and gray. Falken scanned the sky, but it appeared clear of dragons. The only sign of Greban was a large bloody patch on the ground several yards away, and a noise cancellation staff bent in half. Falken shook his head.

  He died saving us … saving the men who betrayed us.

  Angrily, Falken tugged on the carrying case, pulling Kuda behind him. The four of them hurried outside – Falken and Kuda peeled off to the right, while Luthena and Brondi stopped halfway to the wrecked truck. Falken lowered the case toward the ground carefully, but it slipped out of Kuda’s hand and hit the earth with a dull thud.

  Falken mouthed Quiet!, and pointed up at the sky.

  He knelt next to the box and flipped open the clips along its side, then swung the lid up. With Kuda’s help, he lifted the snare device out of the case and set it down on the ground. Then he mimed an unrolling motion, and Kuda nodded. Slowly, they unfurled the device’s rope, laying it out in a wide loop along the ground. Falken hurried back to the device and ensured the spring was loaded, and the device’s motion sensor was active. Then he pulled two metal cables out of the other end of the device, each of which ended in a heavy-duty, spring-loaded cam device. He hooked those to his proxy’s belt. Kuda eyed the tools warily, but Falken ignored him.

  It’s not a weapon, relax.