The Seryys Chronicles: Steel Alliance

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The Seryys Chronicles: Steel Alliance Page 7

by Joseph Nicholson


  The second floor was equally empty.

  As he entered the third floor, he was immediately jumped by a Roamer who was lingering behind the perfume display of a department store. The thing was eating bottles of perfume. Brawl had to chuckle as he dispatched the thing. It smelled fantastic!

  He knew that where there was one, there were probably others. He moved soundlessly through the store, weaving around displays and up and down aisles. When nothing else moved, he proceeded to the third floor. Now he had made it to residences, the daunting hallway of doors on both sides made him slump his shoulders. He reckoned that maybe he should wait on the roof and see if someone would come up to make a call or check their radio.

  So he climbed. Once he reached the top, he sat and waited.

  After about half an hour of waiting, he could feel the roof rumble under his backside where he sat. Immediately, he jumped to his feet and ran to the edge overlooking the street. A huge Reaper lumbered down the street tailed by several more of varying size. Suddenly a blur of color zipped beneath the feet of the giant Reaper and it went crashing down to the street, shaking the building upon which Brawl stood. It took a moment to register what had happened, but the end result was very evident. The giant Reaper’s feet remained where they were and the rest of the Reaper left them behind. The Reaper roared making Brawl’s ears hurt as it crawled forward, hand over hand, digging its talons into the street. The other smaller ones lunged, not for the attacker, but the downed Reaper in the hopes of a filling dinner.

  The other Reapers tore the thing apart. Within minutes, there was nothing left but bones. Right before his eyes, one of the Reapers changed, shedding its lighter skin to don a dark pink coat. There was another blur of color and the lead Reaper’s hands fell off. It screeched and kicked futilely at whatever was attacking it. The thing moved so fast, Brawl couldn’t track it. In one fluid motion, the blur danced through the herd of Reapers; relieving them of their hands, feet, heads… one was cleaved clean in half at the waist. Thick purple fluid spurted out the top of the waist still standing on its feet, while the upper half writhed about, screeching. It was downright macabre, Brawl reckoned.

  Whoever, or whatever, was doing this was making short order of a whole herd of Reapers apparently without even breaking a sweat! The herd was down to two or three when another herd emerged from the wooded park across the street and a herd of Roamers were approaching from the opposite direction from which the first herd of Reapers had come. Brawl reckoned the odds were against this mystery person, but was interested to see what would happen.

  Like clockwork, the blur weaved through the Roamers first, spinning and cartwheeling, decapitating every single one of them without even trying. It moved on to the Reapers emerging from woods. Like a spinning top, it was a whirlwind of glinting metal whipping up purple ooze and limbs and heads. Just as it was finishing with those Reapers, the other herd was in on it. The blur tried weaving through, but one particularly large, blood-red-toned Reaper scored a lucky hit and knocked it clear across the street and into the building. That was the first time he saw the blur not blurry.

  It was a girl! She staggered to her feet, holding up a sword. Three Reapers were on her immediately. She danced around them, straight into the same blood-red Reaper who scooped her up in one hand. Brawl had seen enough, it was time to save to girl! With a war cry he leapt from the building top, forty stories down. Halfway to the ground, Brawl slapped his chest and a small parachute deployed from his back. He coasted the rest of the way until he was directly above ol’ Blood-Red. He slapped his chest again and the line of the parachute cut free. He dropped onto the thing’s head and started pounding it with his prosthetic arm. Four blows later, there was a deep crack in the thing’s head big enough to expose brain matter. Brawl wasted no time. He dug in and started pulling stuff out.

  Instantly, the Reaper dropped the girl and began screeching in pain. Not long after that, it fell dead, twitching and bleeding. The girl didn’t skip a beat; the instant she landed she was on the move again, swiping her blade through Reapers. Brawl followed suit with his knife, gouging them with deep stabs. By the end, the street was quiet once more and they were both completely covered in purple ooze. They regarded each other for a few moments, heaving deep breaths trying to get the energy to say something. After a minute, Brawl broke the silence.

  “You’re welcome, I reckon!”

  The girl was beautiful, and… oddly familiar, like he’d seen her before somewhere, but couldn’t quite place it. She had jet black hair pulled back in ponytail, piercing green eyes and a killer body! She frowned as if insulted then said, “I didn’t need your help!”

  “Not by my reckoning,” Brawl snipped back. “You looked to be a heap of uh-oh!”

  “I can handle me myself,” she retorted.

  “No doubt!” Brawl chuckled. “But sometimes a guy’s just gotta save the damsel in distress!”

  “Do I look like a ‘damsel in distress?’” she asked angrily.

  “Yeah,” he replied simply. “You were about to be Reaper chow for ol’ Blood-Red there.”

  “It was part of my plan, you redneck!” she spat, holding up a fusion grenade. “I was about to stuff this thing down its throat before you dropped in. I barely had time to deactivate it before I blew us both sky high!”

  Brawl regarded the grenade for a moment, then almost blushed… almost. “Aw shit, ma’am. My damsel-in-distress radar must be broken, I reckon!”

  “It’s fine, thanks for your help,” she said, softening up a bit. “What the hell are you doing out here?”

  “I could ask you the same thing, missy.”

  She gave Brawl a “really?” look and pointed at the red-lettered call for help. “What do you think?”

  “Well, I’m glad I found you!” Brawl said with a genuine smile.

  “Why? Are you here to rescue us?”

  “Well… not exactly,” he admitted.

  She pushed past him moving toward the building. “Then what good are you?”

  “Whoa!” Brawl laughed. “You’ve got fire, baby! I like that!” He followed her prompting a dirty look. “But to answer both of your questions, I’m here on official government business. The good Prime Minister sent me to capture a live mutated Reaper. Once I have one, I have a dedicated com unit to call for extraction.”

  That stopped her dead in her tracks. “You have a way to call for help?”

  “Yup!”

  “Then get us the hell out of here!” she snapped.

  “Not ’til I complete my mission,” Brawl insisted.

  “Let me talk to Puar. I’ll bet I can get him to change his mind.”

  “Yeah?” he laughed. “What makes you think that, little lady?”

  “Because I saved his life!”

  “I reckon that would help,” he tossed her the com unit. “Here, have at it!”

  She keyed the device on and a voice came on the other side. “Have you captured one already?”

  “Not exactly,” she responded.

  “Who is this?” the voice asked suspiciously.

  “Someone to whom you owe a favor or two.”

  Of course! Brawl realized. He remembered where he saw her! She was with Khai and Captain Dah when they rescued the Prime Minister. The Agent! What was her name?

  “Kay’Lah Kayward! Well this is an unexpected surprise. How did you come by Burke’s com unit?”

  “He gave it to me,” she said plainly. “I need your help.”

  “So he’s not dead. That’s a good sign. What can I do for you?”

  “I need an immediate evac! My family has been trapped down here for days. My mom’s injured and is in pretty bad shape.”

  “Consider it done… on one condition.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Help him with his mission.”

  “Deal. From what I’ve seen he can use all the help he can get!”

  “Okay. I’ll have a shuttle coming within the hour. Puar out.”

  She h
anded the com unit back to Brawl, who growled, “What do you mean by ‘from what I’ve seen’?”

  “I was watching you from the roof,” she said plainly. “You had quite a tough time out there.”

  “You were watching and didn’t come help?” he asked, anger filling his voice.

  “How long were you watching me?” she shot back.

  Brawl was silent for a few moments, then said, “Touché.”

  Chapter Five

  Vor’l stood, arms crossed, on the bridge of the Fur’l. His warriors were aboard this unknown vessel. It was vicious looking, a long wedge-shaped hull topped with two smaller wedges mounted like wings. It was bristling with weaponry. He liked it, though it didn’t put up much of a fight. The real fight came when they tried to capture the vessel. Several of these pale-white men strapped bombs to their bodies and then threw themselves at his warriors, his hunters. They fought tooth and nail, even tried to set an automated self-destruct to kill everyone on board rather than have her fall into enemy’s hands. Had their technology been less primitive, less laughable, Vor'l's menmay have not deactivated it in time and thousands of his men would have perished.

  Preliminary information was coming in already. Their seekers had uncovered their origins, as well as evidence of a costly and bloody war with the Seryysans, a war that had lasted centuries. It was interesting to see how this caste of Humans had evolved into such a rarity: all white skin, white hair, fangs, with a complete reliance on blood as a food source, combined with superior strength, and impressive fighting skills. Though he hadn’t seen the Seryysans in close quarters fighting, he imagined they would be comparable. The one thing that interested him the most was how the war started, with Seryys making the first move of aggression on the Vyysarri by destroying their sun. It was a cowardly move, to be sure, but not too different from what they were planning on doing to the Seryysans. It would seem that history had a sense of humor, albeit a dark one. The more information he got about these people, the more concerned he became. These Vyysarri would be a thorn in their side should they ally with the Seryysans. Perhaps I should strike at them first…

  The last bit of data streamed in. The more he read the more he agreed that these Vyysarri were trouble. The most important thing his seekers ripped from their main computer was jump coordinates for their main colony and the Seryys System. At last! Vor’l thought. No more chasing ghosts!

  “Communications!”

  “My Alpha?”

  “Have you transmitted the Vyysarri jump coordinates to the helm?”

  “Yes, Alpha.”

  “Helm, plot a course to the home colony in Vyysarri Space and notify the fleet.”

  “At once, my Alpha!”

  The stars outside of the view port vanished in a swirl of dark matter and the next thing he saw was a hulking mass of asteroid, ship parts and station parts almost haphazardly pieced together. A few dozen ships patrolled the immediate area. They immediately began to converge on the two hundred-ship F’Rosian fleet. Vor’l sneered as they approached.

  The Vyysarri ships formed a wedge-shaped attack formation overlapping their shields and firing arcs. It was a wise plan, textbook even. But no amount of strategic prowess could make up for the sheer power that Vor’l possessed at his paw tips.

  “Attack,” he said calmly. “Leave nothing intact. Kill everyone.”

  Without hesitation the fleet opened fire. Multi-colored lances of energy zipped back and forth between the two fleets. Within minutes, six of the Fang-Class ships were ablaze, venting atmosphere. One in particular had a cascade of explosions rock the ship in half. The pieces floated off in opposite directions, flickering and dying. When Vor’l was convinced that he could divide his forces, he did so. He allocated twenty of his two hundred ships to the attack on the colony itself.

  A dozen ships broke from the main fleet to engage the F’Rosian ships, obviously to protect their home, their families, men, women, children; they would all perish at the might of the F’Rosians! Though the colony’s shields were far superior to those of the ships protecting it, it wasn’t long before the lances of energy broke through and peppered the hull. Large swaths of rock and metal were bitten off with each strike. Cheers rang through the bridge of the Fur’l as the whole colony went up in flames. A multi-blossomed conflagration erupted across the colony’s surface.

  Vor’l grinned, knowing that his grandchildren’s grandchildren’s grandchildren would remember this day as a great day of victory for his people. He beamed with pride.

  “Alpha!” his tactician shouted with urgency.

  “What is it?” Vor’l asked, annoyed.

  “The Vyysarri ships are powering up their black hole drives!”

  “They’re running?” Vor’l asked, truly surprised. “From everything I’ve read, these people do not run from anything!”

  Then, as if watching a nightmare coming to life, black holes began opening up in the midst of his fleet. Entire ships were sucked in at a time, some colliding together as they went. And, as if things weren’t bad enough, the remaining Vyysarri ships charged forward at ramming speed. Vor’l watched as his victory quickly turned into a very costly one. A Vyysarri ship buried itself nose first into a fleeing F’Rosian ship. Both vessels exploded sending debris in all directions.

  Vor’l’s eyes were wide with equal parts surprise and rage. “Retreat,” he said, barely believing those words were coming from his mouth.

  “I beg my Alpha’s pardon?”

  “I said retreat, you four-legged mongrel! Pull what’s left of the fleet out, leave two ships to cover our retreat. Tell their captains that their lives were given in the protection of their Alpha and will be rewarded in the afterlife.”

  “It will be done!”

  The F’Rosian ships began withdrawing save the two to protect the retreat, which advanced and intensified their fire on the Vyysarri vessels. Two F’Rosian ships versus two dozen Vyysarri ships was no contest. They were destroyed quickly, but not so quickly that the other ships couldn’t go full-burn—which was just shy of lightspeed—out of the system to regroup.

  Out in space, between the Vyysarri and Seryys Systems, Vor’l stared at the stars out the main viewer. His gaze was unbroken for nearly ten minutes as the bridge crew sat tensely waiting for something—anything—to happen. At last, he turned to regard his crew. When he spoke, it was so soft they all had to strain to hear him.

  “Alert the fleet to affect whatever repairs are necessary, meaning weapons, shields and engines. All other systems are secondary and can be repaired en route, including life-support. We have crippled the Vyysarri beyond repair; now it’s time to march on Seryys and end their legacy now and forever.”

  No one said a word, they simply got to work.

  Vor’l sat in silence for a moment, listening to the tense and hushed conversations of his bridge crew working diligently to ready themselves for another battle. He thought of the people he just lost, his pack mates. Some of the ships were intact when they were sucked into the micro-black holes. He wondered if they would ever find their ways home.

  “Science,” he called out softly.

  “My Alpha?”

  “Were the sensors able to get a reading of those black holes generated by the Vyysarri ships?”

  “Briefly, yes.”

  “We’re you able to determine where the other side of those black holes led?”

  “No, my Alpha. There was too much interference.”

  “Is there a way for them to return?”

  “One could surmise that outcome. But my guess is that they don’t know where they are, or how far they’ve traveled. Without a point of origin, it would be highly improbable that they could calculate a jump back.”

  “Do we know how long repairs will take?”

  “The last estimate was eight days with repair crews working around the clock; some of our ships took extensive damage from collisions with one another as they avoided the black holes.”

  “Tell the fleet they have f
ive days, any ship not ready at that point should be abandoned and scuttled or left behind.” The shock on his face was apparent. “Is there a problem?”

  “No, my Alpha,” he said quickly. “I will relay the message at once.”

  Vor’l didn’t say anything, just brooded and stared out into the dead void of space.

  “Prefect!” Braac shouted while entering the room without knocking, urgency and dread filling his voice.

  “What is it, my friend?” Prefect Chuumdar said from the deep umbra of his office.

  “Colony One has been destroyed!”

  “What?” Chuumdar literally jumped from his seat.

  “A fleet of unknown ships simply appeared and started firing, we didn’t even detect them until they started bombardment. Our greatest city is gone, along with four billion people!”

  “What of the fleet protecting our colony?”

  “Most of it is gone. However, Commander Kryyn thought of a way to dispatch many ships using their Eve’Zon drives to create black holes in their ranks. The black holes sucked the enemy ships in and led to an actual black hole several light years out. Whatever ships made the jump were immediately drawn in and destroyed. Admiral Kryyn did not survive.”

  Chuumdar slumped back down in his chair, staring at a single point on the wall past Braac. He took little solace knowing that they dealt a serious blow to the F’Rosian fleet as four billion people—men, women and children—lost their lives. Braac had recommended that he personally move to another location after the assassination attempt orchestrated by Warthol/Stiprox AKA Dack’Tander Dah. Though Chuumdar was able to defeat the assassin easily, the next time could have proved fatal. Not in a million years did he think that the whole colony would be wiped out, Braac’s recommendation saved his life. Not since the Seryysans’ attack on the sun around which Vyysar orbited, had they suffered such a blow.

 

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