The Joining: The Saga of the Shards Book One (The Cycle of the Shards 1)

by Chris Stephenson

  As the first military vehicles arrived at the spaceport, the protective dome over the top of the building shattered from the force of a starship crashing through it. Pt'ron's second stolen vehicle of the day was just powerful enough to accelerate through the closed structure, though the glass covering seemed to be more of a decoration rather than any type of real protection. As the sharp pieces fell below, some cutting Critock's body further as he stirred from his pummeling, the starship flew away from the desert planet. Pt'ron let a large smile envelop his face as he exited the atmosphere and entered space. He had done it. He clutched the shards, still in his hand, and breathed out in relief, then studied them. Such a small thing that would eventually give him such great power...If it was his power to have, that is. Unfortunately, he was tasked to deliver these items. Two small crystals, resembling red rubies. The pursuit of which had doomed civilizations and killed untold trillions of people the galaxies over. Powerless but for centuries from now, when their activation would give their owner the abilities of a God. Pt'ron was going to give it all up, for no small reward of course. You did not back out on an agreement with this individual, no matter what the prize. Noticing two fleet vessels approaching, not yet in firing range, he quickly set his course, and in a flash of purple and red, the starship tore a hole in subspace, and disappeared from sight.

  Critock rose to his knees, looking up at the gaping hole in the structure above him. His fists clenched as the military personnel gathered around him, offering him aid. He stood up slowly, ignoring them. Aid was the last thing he needed right now. The call for vengeance still shouted within him, and he could not ignore it. He looked around the personnel quickly, searching for a familiar face. Finding it, he strode over quickly to the Commander of this squad, a short, tiny-faced man with hair on the sides of his head but nowhere else.

  “I need a ship.” The Squad Commander was caught off guard as Critock walked right past him, with no acknowledgement other than the request. He quickly turned to follow.

  “Sir!” Critock ignored the Commander’s calling. “Sir!” He walked past a few occupied fighters, landed but not yet empty, before he found what he was looking for.

  The Commander finally caught up to Critock as he was climbing into the pilot’s seat of the TC-657 Warper, ignoring the markings that clearly denoted this craft as the Commander’s. He waved his arms frantically as he yelled towards Critock. “Haven’t you done enough?”

  Critock shook his head, sighing. “Not yet.” He laid his hands on the screens, getting a quick feel for the controls. The ship wasn’t the most advanced, but it had an impressive load out, including a few experimental weapons. It would do nicely for what he had in mind. He glanced over at the Squad Commander, a small voice in his mind whispering for him to go back and apologize. But this wasn’t the time for standard military procedures. Every moment he wasted Pt’ron got that much farther away from him. He had probably already escaped the initial scouts, and the trail would soon grow cold. He gave a quick salute, and closed the canopy. Already he could see a few other soldiers began to head towards him, knowing that something wasn’t quite right. There was nothing that any of them could do. The ship took no time at all to power back up, as it had just arrived. Tapping a couple panels, the Warper moved through the sky, on the exact course that Pt'ron had taken. Hopefully he would still be able to track the signature from the subspace rupture. If not, he had a pretty good idea where to look.

  The silver starship slowed to a stop after coming out of the rupture, then switched seamlessly to emergency power. A couple of hours of this, and there'd be no evidence he ever went this way. Not that the fleet would be tracking him this far out. With every light-year that went by, the probability that the tracking systems would find him lessened. Nobody would think to look here, on the edge of what many considered one of the most dangerous places in the universe: The Katron ice fields.

  He liked coming here, and always had. The constant destruction of the countless freezing crystals and the subsequent reforming calmed him, and helped him to remember that while nothing lasts forever, even in the farthest reaches of space, things would always find a way to come back together again in new and interesting ways. The fact that daredevils would often attempt to pilot through the constantly moving crystals always gave him a laugh, as it always ended badly for the pilots. He himself had attempted to fly through the less dangerous portions, but never to the interior. No one sane would ever go that far. Another reason for coming out here was the solitude. It was a great place to hide if it ever came down to it, and so it had.

  He tapped his console, giving a small amount of power to the communications array. He thought it wise to give his benefactor his whereabouts, in case she became antsy and sent her legions to hunt him down. There was no fear that the conversation would be traced back to his location. No one would be listening on the other end that his benefactor didn't want. He placed the Shards back in their bag and patted it, knowing what a large commodity they were, and knowing that half the universe would be here to collect them if they knew where he was.

  The communication went through in a moment, and a woman in a dark room appeared. All that Pt'ron could clearly see was her eyes, and they were a bright, terrifying red. He assumed that the woman had utilized some complicated surgery on herself to give the proper effect. Whatever the cause, it was definitely working. It never failed to simultaneously terrify and intimidate. He struggled to speak with just her visage on the screen.

  "My mistress..."

  The humanoid figure, clutching a scepter decorated with an ornate ruby-like display, stared Pt'ron down. "You were to contact me a long time before now."

  "I know, forgive me. I have collected the Shards, they are yours..."

  "Mine! You Kari Kim'cha! You have every military within a trillion miles looking for you! Do you think I want you leading them to my doorstep?” She calmed her voice suddenly.“Or is it that you want my destruction..." She gripped her scepter menacingly.

  "No! Never! I simply wish to fulfill my end of the bargain!"

  "And you shall. The bargain was never yours to begin with, however. My bargain was with the Shards, and so they will be recovered, in due time. My...minions will recover them when the war has truly burned itself out. Sometime I would think around their awakening."

  Pt'ron thought for a half moment, knowing that he would not be able to survive for long without his leader's protection. "Have mercy! What would you have me do?"

  Without a second glance, Pt'ron's leader glanced away dismissively. "Hide."

  "The shards won't be activated for a thousand cycles! Until their power is restored I am vulnerable!"

  "Then you had better find a good hiding spot. I do not care for failure, nor fools, and thus far you have proven yourself to be both. If the proper time comes and you have not caused further disaster, perhaps you will have a place in the legions. Until then, do not disturb me again." There was a brief buzz of static as the connection closed, and then nothing, just a black screen.

  Without a moment to register his shock, suddenly he both heard and felt laser shots hitting the hull. Four or five distinct blasts striking right above his head. Jumping up in his seat and restoring power to everything the shots did not damage, Pt'ron looked out the windows at who had found him. He was not surprised at the answer.

  Critock lazily swung his Warper around for another pass. It was child's play to locate the starship, due to the size of the hole torn in subspace. The garbled communication coming from uninhabited space didn't help matters for Pt'ron, but truthfully Critock would've been able to locate him without any of the help he had received. He knew Pt'ron, and knew he would come here. 'The best hiding place in the universe', he had always called it. Unless of course the person trying to find you knew where it was. He fired another series of blasts, right as Pt'ron's vessel had gotten its shields up.

  As Critock's shots were absorbed by the field of energy surrounding his ship, Pt'ron cursed. He should have known
that his old friend would have recovered far quicker than he hoped. Now that his ego was wounded along with his pride, his need for vengeance would have increased. He scanned the console wildly, hoping against hope for something, anything, that would help him turn the tide against the surprise attack that seemed certain to end his life. Unfortunately, it seemed he was incredibly outmatched. This was a glorified civilian vessel, built for speed and comfort, not war. He looked at the Heads-Up-Display, and realized that if speed was the only thing that this ship was good at, it would have to do.

  The targeting sensors were locked on to Pt'ron's vessel. Critock allowed himself a smirk as he prepared to fire. Vengeance and anger had now clouded his mind, and all he could think of was silencing the ghost of his love, his intended, his Shau'ri. The voice called to him to finish it, to end her call and his suffering. Yet as his finger closed on the panel he was denied yet again as the targeted vessel suddenly accelerated away, in the last direction that Critock expected: the ice fields.

  Mad with fear and the incredible desire to get away, Pt'ron knew that his only chance was to escape into the fields. There were few that could navigate the exterior clouds let alone the interior crystals as they spun and crashed in an endless dance of destruction, beautiful at a distance yet deadly up close. He was a good pilot, but he knew that he would need an extraordinary amount of luck to survive the fields. Better odds there, he figured, than with Critock's rage. The starship entered the freezing cloud, the lowered temperature affecting the systems as the lights flickered, but luckily for Pt'ron the engines held. It would not be any colder within the crystal field, so at least that would not be an issue.

  For Critock, there was no question about what he must do next. If Pt'ron thought he could survive the fields, then so would he. He knew he was the better pilot, so if it would just be skill that decided victory today, then this would be a short flight. He also knew, however, that luck and chance would be everything once they entered the interior. He hoped he had built up enough karma to keep him alive long enough to watch his enemy burn amongst the ice, perhaps having foolishly followed his reflection right into one of the outcroppings. It was this thought that caused Critock to smile an empty, crazed smile, which faded as he refocused himself. He couldn't just think he was the better pilot, he had to be the better pilot. This was the only way to win the day. His eyebrows furrowed, he accelerated, and his vessel followed Pt'ron into the clouds and the endlessly spinning crystal fields.

  Pt'ron had hoped for an instant that Critock would do the intelligent thing and let him go. The war was over, he would still have his victory. But the thoughts of vengeance and pride must have been too much for him, he assumed, and so the chase would continue in this dangerous arena. Pt'ron increased his speed as fast as he could, not as fast as the vessel would go but still within controllable limits. At least he hoped they were controllable, as he didn't have much experience with this type of ship. He deftly maneuvered around an outcropping of ice, to the left and to the right, moving up a little in the process. His eyes glanced to the radar, but it was a mess of whiteness with the multiple crystals affecting the systems. He hoped Critock's was malfunctioning as well, as he would need every piece of luck he could get at this point.

  Indeed Critock's was, but he didn't notice, so focused was he at maneuvering around and matching Pt'ron's motions as best as possible. In perfect formation, as though they were putting on a show, the two spaceships moved up and around and under the various crystals. Critock did not let up for an instant, using everything he could to quickly bring this to an end. They were still on the outskirts of the exterior cloud, and it would get much more dangerous the farther in they went.

  In front and to the left of them, two crystals came together in a spectacular crash which sent large pieces of themselves floating quickly towards the two fliers. Pt'ron reacted solely on instinct, diving out of the way, overcoming the crystal shards and simply outrunning them. Critock saw a place to press his advantage and he did so, firing carefully and slowing his speed slightly. The lasers he fired quickly melted the ice in front of him, and he was able to fly straight through the crystals, dodging the larger pieces by turning sideways, with the intent of overtaking his adversary on the other side. To his surprise, however, once he was through nobody was there to meet him. He flipped his ship around and scanned the area, with no sign of Pt'ron at all. Now he was well within the ice fields, with no way to track his enemy. Any advantage he had was lost.

  Pt'ron had watched as he dove out of the way, and noted that Critock had decided to take the direct route. Quickly finding an opening, he did an 180 degree vertical turn and flew back up, dodging the now smaller pieces of ice that he was heading towards. He flew straight, going deeper into the ice fields in the process, but to a place where Critock would have no idea where he went. This pleased him greatly, and he immediately began planning his next move. He supposed he could keep an eye on the other vessel to better plan, attempting to use what little defenses this craft had to attack and finish the job he should have completed not even an hour before. But even as the thought came up, he dismissed it. He could not win in a straight fight. This was a civilian vessel used for transport, and Critock's was a military ship designed for combat with multiple enemies. It would be a short battle and not one that would end in Pt'ron's favor. He decided to fly deeper, hoping that he would be able to dodge the crystals and lose his enemy even more than he already had.

  Critock knew that Pt'ron could have gone in any direction, so he decided to go straight down, working his way through the bends and twists of this section of ice. It was more a cavern than a field in this area, endless shards having melted together to form a maze of glaciers endlessly floating and moving through the stars. He moved through it, getting deeper and deeper into the field before he finally gave up in this direction, spinning his ship around and retracing his steps back upward.

  Pt'ron had not stayed on the same course for long. His innate paranoia was playing tricks on him, and every minute or so he would change course, sometimes to the complete opposite way. It was because of this that he had not gotten that far away from Critock, and in fact was now losing ground to him yet again. Sweat from nervousness had returned to Pt'ron's brow, as he checked his useless sensors and rear displays at least ten times a minute. There was nothing that wasn't ice, but he could swear he saw something. Something that was not just the reflection of his own ship, but another ship. Sometimes, many ships. And faces. Faces staring at him accusingly. Each time he shook it off, and each time they returned quicker and quicker. He shook himself one more time and was brought back to reality by a series of red lasers moving past him to the right, to strike a crystal. Now realizing that Critock had really shown up, he allowed himself a moment of levity at Critock's aim. That was, until a giant ice shard created by the immense heat of Critock's lasers came crashing down towards Pt'ron. His innards leapt into his chest as he, completely on instinct, spun around and went in the opposite direction, directly at Critock.

  Critock was caught off guard at this, especially when Pt'ron fired what little weapons he had. With the excitement and with his clouded vision, Critock had neglected to turn his shielding on, and a red report came over the panels explaining the damage that had been caused. A string of Marconian curses came out as Critock assessed the damage and flipped his vessel around simultaneously. Nothing important thankfully, at least nothing he would need. Critock powered forward, determined not to lose him.

  Pt'ron was not satisfied with the damage done to Critock's ship. His own ship had little offensive capabilities, and that could not have been shown more clearly but from the pitiful performance of the cutting laser that had just been displayed. It was primarily used for moving asteroids out of the way, not for the attempted destruction of a heavily armored ship! If his shields had been up, Critock would not have even noticed the attack! As it was, Pt'ron was sure that he had caused nothing but to make his old friend angrier and that was the last thing he wanted to do.
A vengeful Critock he might be able to deal with. An angry Critock was something else entirely. There was no hope now to lose him, now that he was even slightly wounded. His pride had already suffered so much this day, and now taking fire from this weakling of a vessel would only escalate things. Deeper in...that was the only escape now. Deeper into the recesses of the ice fields. The danger that Pt'ron faced in there would be far less than if he were to challenge Critock again. He executed a perfect swan dive between two crystals, increasing his speed and narrowly missing being speared through by a particular sharp shard. Critock matched him, any regard for his own safety forgotten. Together they moved in and out of the increasingly perilous encounter, closer to the center of the Katron ice fields.

  At last Pt'ron had lost Critock again, having made an incredibly sharp left, then diving around and into a right turn. The intense forces impacting his body almost caused him to black out and only his fear of being caught kept him conscious. Even then he was surprised when he realized that his pursuer had once again disappeared from sight.

  He was lost again, this time ever so close to the center of the fields, a place that few had ever seen. Those that made it this far were merely lucky, and most would not be able to repeat their luck to escape. Curiosity won a sudden battle in his soul, the want to see the sight so often denied to mortals. But he wasn't mortal any more, was he? He thought hard as he clutched the Shards to him. At least he wouldn't be, pending him surviving this test. And that's all this was, really. A test to determine if he was worthy of these ancient gifts. Only time and escape separated him from what he believed to be his rightful place and his rightful power. His fears alleviated momentarily, he nudged his vessel forward into a small tunnel that was barely big enough to maneuver through. But he made it, focused on this new task to see the unseen, even if it was only a distraction. If nothing else, it was somewhere that he would never be found. Critock would never think to look for him in here. It was only chance that had led himself in here to begin with.