Mars Colony Chronicles (Books 1 - 5): A Space Opera Box Set Adventure

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Mars Colony Chronicles (Books 1 - 5): A Space Opera Box Set Adventure Page 75

by Brandon Ellis


  His eyes went wide.

  A starfighter was heading straight for him.

  “Watch out,” said Jozi. She pulled out her gun and shot photon blasts at the craft, hitting the ship but doing minimal damage.

  Zoota! Zoota!

  The starfighter shot a few rounds, missing Ozzy wide left.

  A terrible scream erupted. Jozi grabbed for her belly, and Ozzy reached for her. She lost her grip and fell from the rope. Ozzy snagged the back of her jumpsuit, grasping on tightly.

  Blood trickled down her hands. She let out a loud breath as the rope pulled Ozzy and her into the craft. The underbelly’s opening slammed shut, and Ozzy set Jozi on the floor, immediately tending to her.

  He jostled her shoulder. “Jozi.”

  She didn’t respond.

  “Jozi!”

  He rolled her over. Blood oozed from her stomach. Her eyes were open and vacant. She wasn’t breathing.

  He frantically pressed on her neck, feeling for a pulse.

  Nothing.

  He shook her. “Come back, Jozi.”

  He put his hands over his face and slumped. He couldn’t believe it.

  Jozi was dead.

  36

  Earth • Ancient Athapaskan Land, California

  Ozzy put his hand on Jozi’s stomach, doing his best to stop the bleeding. Her hand limply slid off her belly.

  They were in the holding bay, and the ship shuddered from a direct hit. Ozzy fell against the blue-lit wall, his bloodied hand smacking against the floor, leaving a red, slippery mess.

  “Graviton shields on,” yelled Gragas over his helmet mic. “Take us out of here.” He rushed to Jozi and put his hand on her head.

  His chin hit his chest. He slowly shook his head.

  “No, no.” Ozzy pushed Gragas away and pressed on Jozi’s chest several times, performing CPR. “Get Quad. Now!” He continued to press and checked her pulse.

  Nothing.

  He pressed on her chest again and again.

  “I’m here, Ozzy.” Quad stepped into the bay and went to one knee.

  “Use your ball thingy,” demanded Ozzy. Panic coursed through his veins, and he held his arms close to his stomach as if in pain. He put his ear next to Jozi’s mouth, hoping to feel breath—even a little.

  Nothing.

  “No,” he yelled.

  “Step back.” Quad held out his hand. The golden pinball was in his palm. It flew and hovered in the air and dropped onto Jozi’s chest. It transformed into a spider and crawled to her lips. It disappeared inside her mouth.

  Jozi twitched, her hands and arms jerking back and forth.

  Ozzy placed his hands over his heart. “Come back, Jozi. Come back.” She had given him everything. He had given her shit, and this is how he repaid her? “You didn’t have to come along, Jozi. Why did you come on this mission?”

  Her hands curled into balls and relaxed. Her limbs continued to shake, yet her eyes were open and frozen in time, lifeless.

  She was still dead.

  The bug crawled out of her mouth and jumped into the air. It turned into a golden ball and landed in Quad’s hand.

  Quad moaned. “I’m sorry, Ozzy. I cannot help your friend.” He kneeled next to Jozi and closed her eyes. He touched the skin between her eyebrows and brought his hands to his chest. “May you journey to the Source. May you find your way to the light. May you remember who you truly are.” He dipped his head and walked out of the room.

  Ozzy took several steps backward until he ran into a wall. He leaned against it and slid down. His heart pushed to his throat, and he punched the ground. He stared at Jozi. Her breaths weren’t forming like they were supposed to—the way he wanted them to.

  Screw the Source, the light, the Great Spirit, or whoever or whatever was out there. If anything, it was the Source of pain.

  “I’m sorry, Ozzy,” said Gragas, sitting next to him. “She is in a much easier place now and is transitioning to her next phase in life.”

  That was obvious, numbnuts. Ozzy wanted to cuss, scream, and do anything and everything to Gragas at that moment. He refrained and instead brought his knees to his chest and dropped his head in his hands. “She’s dead.”

  Gragas glanced at his feet. “I lost a few Galactic Knights in the lodge today. I don’t know exactly how you’re feeling, but I have an inkling.”

  Ozzy lifted his head. His gut was dull, and his heart was empty. Dunrakee didn’t deserve Earth. They didn’t deserve even to be next to it or next to him. They were slime and the pests of the galaxy. He was supposed to be pest control, and his mission was to eradicate these bubble-heads.

  He put his hands out and ground his teeth. “Where is the holopad?”

  Gragas leaned forward and pulled it out from Jozi’s belt. He handed it to Ozzy. “Here, my friend.”

  His friend? Gragas was a Dunrakee. Yes, he was a nice one, but nice ones were part of the problem if not the problem. They allowed their government to do this, to kill all humans they possibly could, to kill Jozi.

  “We need to find Zeld.” Ozzy’s voice cracked. He wanted to let the tears fall for Jozi, but he had to do one thing first—find the crystal sphere and kill the whole lot of them. They didn’t deserve kindness. They didn’t deserve mercy. They deserved death and a long, terrible one at that.

  Gragas put his hand on the holopad, resting his other hand on Ozzy’s knee. “What are you going to do?”

  He eyed Gragas for a few seconds and glanced back at the holopad. He activated it. A holographic image hovered in front of him. It was a map with a red dot. The dot moved, which indicated that a crystalline signature was moving. He pointed at the dot. “That’s Zeld. She has the sphere, and she’s heading for the Ark. If we don’t stop her, she’ll use the Ark, and I don’t think you want that.”

  “She will die if she does.”

  “We don’t know if she’s of the bloodline.”

  “I’d be surprised if she were.”

  Ozzy pushed off the floor and stood. “We are flying away from the sphere, so turn this ship around. We’ll take the sphere from her.” He took another look at Jozi. He bit his lower lip, keeping it from trembling. “We will kill those who have caused Jozi’s pain.”

  And those who caused his pain.

  Gragas inhaled deeply. “You don’t exactly know who caused Jozi’s death, Ozzy.”

  “I do.” Ozzy slapped his hands together and bent down, placing his hands under Jozi.

  “You know who did it?” Gragas asked.

  Ozzy picked her up. She was listless in his arms. Her dead weight made her heavier than he imagined her to be. He looked at Jozi’s peaceful face. “You ask who did it?” He frowned. “Your race, Gragas. Your damned race. It’s time to end the Dunrakee disease once and for all.”

  37

  Earth • Ancient Athapaskan Land, California

  Gragas folded his arms over his chest and stepped in front of Ozzy. “As I said before, I forbid it.”

  Ozzy’s arms shook. His biceps burned from holding Jozi. “Move out of my way.”

  “I’m not giving the order to turn my ship around so you can kill an entire race.” He slapped his chest. “My race.”

  Ozzy’s face reddened. Anger rose from his belly and pierced his eyes. He shook Jozi in front of Gragas. “Look at her,” he growled, his voice like a tiger. She was pale and drained of all life. “Your race has killed enough of my people.”

  “I’m not giving the order to turn my ship around. I can’t watch my entire race go up in flames all because you hold a grudge.”

  “A grudge?” A vein popped and pulsed on Ozzy’s forehead. He placed Jozi on the floor and unholstered his gun. He aimed it at Gragas’s head.

  Gragas stepped back.

  Quad walked into the bay, his fingers stroking his masked chin.

  “Excuse me.” His robotic voice was sad. He bent down and picked up Jozi as if nothing were happening between Gragas and Ozzy. “Gragas, do I have permission to put her into the heali
ng tubes until we get her home? I would like to tinker with her insides.”

  Ozzy had been in those healing tubes after he’d been shot. They were wide and tall and filled with a healing liquid Ozzy knew nothing about. But it healed him quickly. It worked on people dying or those needing repair. It didn’t work on the already dead.

  Gragas kept his gaze on Ozzy. “Yes,” he replied. “Take her to the tubes.”

  Ozzy changed his aim, pointing his weapon at Quad. “You’re not tinkering with my friend, Quad.”

  Quad hesitated for a moment. “She has been dead and gone for almost two minutes. Her brain might not be completely dead. If I can repair it, we can learn a lot.”

  Ozzy shook his head, holding in a sob. What did it matter if Quad took her? She wasn’t going to resurrect miraculously.

  He holstered his weapon and leaned against the wall. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. This mission and all of life were hopeless. He plopped down on his rear and rested his head in his hands. “Go ahead. Take her.”

  “Thank you, Ozzy,” Quad responded and raced out the doorway.

  Gragas sat next to Ozzy, putting his arm around him.

  Ozzy pushed it away. “Go.”

  Gragas dipped his head. “I understand your pain.”

  Ozzy turned his head, facing Gragas in disgust. “You understand nothing. Now, please leave.”

  “As you wish.” Gragas stood and walked out of the holding bay.

  Ozzy rested his forehead against his palm. “I’m sorry, Jozi. I’m so sorry.”

  The holopad beeped. He had almost forgotten about it. Zeld was getting closer to the Ark. If she was or wasn’t someone of the bloodline, Ozzy still had to get that sphere and activate the Ark himself.

  If Ozzy knew Zeld, she would try to find a way off this planet with both the Ark and the crystal sphere and hock them to the highest bidder.

  That wasn’t going to fly. Ozzy needed to finish his mission and now.

  He stood and walked out the door into a hallway. Small, blue lights lined the corridor. If he went straight, he’d go to the bridge.

  But he wasn’t looking for the bridge. He was looking for a way off this bird. There had to be a transport ship inside this big lug somewhere.

  He spun on his heels and walked in the opposite direction. He strode through a thin aft passage to a dining area with empty tables and chairs.

  A few machines sat on counters, also known as food replicators as on Mars and could make whatever food you desired in less than a minute.

  He wasn’t hungry.

  He passed through the dining area to a launch bay with an airlock. There sat two starfighters. They had small, compact wings, a short body, and cannons attached to the nose and underwings. Both cockpits were open, which was standard in most military craft bays so the pilot could jump into them as fast as possible when needed.

  Perfect.

  He looked over his shoulder, making sure no one had seen or followed him.

  Duh. They probably had holocams everywhere on the ship. He was definitely being watched.

  A crackle came over the intercom system. “Ozzy, this is Gragas. Don’t do what I think you’re going to do.”

  Ozzy held up his middle finger and walked to a ladder that leaned against a starfighter. It led to the cockpit.

  He climbed it and hopped inside. He cracked his knuckles. “Gragas, you’re not going to like me anymore.”

  Ozzy couldn’t care less.

  He pulled up the holodisplay and swiped his fingers over the “activate engines” holobutton. The engines purred alive, and the starfighter vibrated.

  The cockpit ceiling closed. It hissed as its lining sealed airtight.

  He held on to the control stick and activated his weapons. The target lock beeped, and he placed his finger over the trigger. “You better open the airlock.”

  He figured the ship’s sensors would detect weapons lock and notify the bridge. Gragas would have to deal with a blown-out airlock if he didn’t open the damn thing.

  The cockpit erupted in static. A moment later, Gragas’s voice boomed into Ozzy’s ears. “If you fly out of here, I have no choice but to shoot you down. I cannot have you destroy an entire race, especially my race. It will record a loop in the fabric of energy, time, and space, and more civilizations will repeat our mistakes.”

  Ozzy screwed up his face, not knowing or caring what Gragas was talking about. “Let me out, Gragas. You know I’ll blow a hole in your ship if you don’t.”

  “Fine. As you wish.”

  Light seeped in, and the airlock opened. Below him was more forest. A mountain was in the distance. It had two snow-covered peeks. They were beautiful and made everything on Mars look that much uglier.

  He pressed forward on the throttle and shot out of the launch bay at a ridiculous speed. Gravity pushed him into the backrest, and he strained his muscles to drive away the sensation.

  He swiped his finger over the holodisplay and brought up another screen.

  “Anti-gravity,” he mumbled. He pushed his finger through a button. The anti-grav unit activated, and the sensation he had felt quickly faded away.

  He placed the holopad on his lap and veered the starfighter toward Zeld’s location.

  He zipped low, hugging the canopy of trees.

  A beep blared in the cockpit.

  Shit.

  He was being targeted and by Gragas of all people. The guy wasn’t bluffing. Ozzy brought up rear cams, and the Galactic Knight’s ship was already on his tail, baring down on him quickly.

  “We have you in our sights, Ozzy. Return to the ship, or I have no choice,” said Gragas. Even now, his tone carried compassion and understanding.

  In a way, it soothed Ozzy. But it didn’t soothe him enough. “I don’t think so, Gragas. Out.”

  He turned off the com line and banked left.

  The big ship followed his banking maneuver. For a large ship with a wide girth, it maneuvered well.

  Ozzy switched all gravitons to rear shields. It wouldn’t do much, but at least it would repel some of the blasts that would come his way, keeping him alive a few extra seconds to eject from this craft.

  Ozzy eyed the map. He was getting close to Zeld. The beeping became louder. Gragas was closing in.

  He gripped the control stick tightly and placed his finger on the ejection button just in case.

  He performed a barrel roll, looping in a wide turn. The beeping ceased. He eyed his rear cam. The Galactic Knight’s ship was performing the same maneuver.

  Ozzy’s eyes widened. That’s a starfighter move, not a ship as big as a basic frigate.

  Ozzy performed a second barrel roll and looped in the opposite direction, placing him in the path he needed to go—toward Zeld.

  Three minutes and he’d be there.

  Gragas followed. It was effortless, and the beeps filled Ozzy’s cockpit again.

  He punched the side wall. “You got to be kidding me.” He couldn’t shake the Knights.

  He pulled up, heading toward the blue sky and puffy clouds.

  More beeps.

  He took his eyes off the horizon and leveled out. He glanced down at the radar and jerked in surprise and gasped. New ships appeared. The Dunrakee were sending a squadron his way.

  He turned his com line back on. “Gragas, you have a problem.”

  “We have a problem is a more accurate statement,” Gragas replied.

  Two minutes.

  “Take them out, Gragas.”

  “I wish those were the ships I was aiming for, Ozzy. You don’t know how much I wish that.” The com line crackled off.

  Ozzy swallowed. Not only were the Dunrakee after him, but the Galactic Knights were also after him.

  What else could go wrong?

  One minute.

  He pushed his stick forward and went into a dive. He redirected graviton shields to cover his entire starfighter.

  The beeps came more rapidly, and then a steady beep riddled his ears.

 
Crap.

  Shots had been fired and were fast approaching.

  The tops of the trees were coming in fast as well. But it was too late.

  He tucked the holopad between his belt and pants. Five seconds to impact.

  He pressed the eject button.

  Nothing happened.

  “What?”

  Two seconds until impact, and thirty seconds until he was on top of Zeld.

  And he was about to turn into a ball of flames.

  38

  Earth • Ancient Athapaskan Land, California

  “Damn you, seat. Eject,” he yelled, slamming his fist on the holographic eject button.

  His fist went through it and hit a side panel. The ceiling separated in a flash, and wind blasted into the cockpit. His seat lifted into the air, and fire shot out the bottom, sending him higher.

  A loud concussive blast knocked Ozzy into a spin. A rush of heat enveloped him, and he closed his eyes, covering his head with his arms.

  The starfighter tore to shreds, and debris fell toward the forest below.

  Who shot him? Gragas or the Dunrakee?

  More explosions filled the sky. The Dunrakee and the Galactic Knights were now engrossed in a fight.

  A laser shot past him, slamming into a Dunrakee fighter. The craft lurched and broke into two. Fire spit out everywhere and smoke trailed the falling ship.

  Ozzy pressed a button near his thigh, and a small panel opened in the armrest. A control stick rose from inside.

  He grabbed the control stick and steered his ejection seat toward the canopy of trees. He had to get under this battle as quickly as he could.

  A squealing sound zipped by him. He twisted his head quickly, catching a glimpse of a missile whizzing by and striking another Dunrakee starfighter. Its wings buckled and broke in several pieces. A boom penetrated the heavens, and the starfighter’s fuselage burst into flames, turning the rest of the fighter into a blazing monster.

  The blast sent a shock wave of energy toward Ozzy. His ejection seat twisted in the air.

 

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