He leaned down and picked her up, cradling her in both of his arms. He turned back to Talek and Fiwho had also come around. “She needs medical attention. Let’s get her back to the Killer.”
Talek nodded while Fi glanced to the sky. Sirens blared from miles away. “Be wise, Sora. There will be more.”
2
“So, you kill six ConSec officersand then you bring the teen criminal back here? Here?!” Trika said, throwing her hands up. “If our contact doesn’t show soon, the government willand we’ll be toast.”
Talek rolled his eyes, stepping into the doorway of the medical bay. Trika always had a complaint about something. “We were already in too deep to turn back. Our fates were sealed the moment those officers tried to confiscate our cargo. I doubt they would have let us off-world.”
“I guess we’ll never know,” Trika said. She leaned against the wall of the circular room.
Talek noticed that Sora had not budged, nor had he paid Trika much mind. The captain of the Killer stood over a cotton slab in the middle of the room that held the unconscious girl. A wireless console sat next to the slab, displaying all of her different vitals. An oxygen mask sat on her face.
The medical bay of this ship did not hold much. Other than those necessities, a counter sat at the end of the small room with miscellaneous medical supplies and spare slabs. Small devices lined the narrow walls, but whoever designed the freighter didn’t have the intent to incur injury. Still, Talek found it suitable for its current task of mending the girl.
He reached Sora’s side. “How is she?”
“She’ll be alright. Viktor applied some gel to burns from the bolts and the console didn’t show any internal bleeding,” Sora said, leaning over the slab. “Just scrapes and bruises. I’m ready to find out who she is.”
“Whoever she may be, those officers wanted her dead,” Talek said, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “They left a conflict with us to pursue her. They knew who she was. Surprising, considering how young she is, that she is of such great interest to the government.”
“My mind detects that her body has been on the run for some time,” Kossk said, entering the room and stepping to Sora’s other side. Talek listened to the hiss that followed his words. “Her body has features of exhaustion. The creases in her face demonstrate that her body has seen much hardship.”
“What are you even talking about?” Trika said. “You saw her for half a second.”
Kossk put a claw on her left leg and closed his wide, yellow eyes. “The muscles of her leg have endured much movement. Quick movement. Her body has been fleeing for a long period of time. It has affected her soul.”
Trika shook her head, but Talek did not hold the same disbelief. He did not know the full extent of Kossk’s abilities or history, but he had encountered him before their time together on the Killer. Their lives had an odd tendency to intersect. The Mizan had seen a lot of life and lived that life. His species had a natural intuition that humans did not have, but Kossk’s intuition excelled because of his experience with different wars and different people. He knew this galaxy and the people in it had a depth that surpassed what appeared on the surface.
Talek understood him because he had seen many similar experiences. He only had twenty-three years under his belt, but didn’t even remember some of those experiences. He just knew what he took away from them: darkness filled the nebula in more ways than most knew. This galaxy didn’t just have technology, spaceships and monarchies. It had a dark spirituality he had personally seen.
Talek joined Sora to flee his past. Past experiences aside, he believed in the simpler life of traveling on a ship. Forgetting about horrors and secrets that no one knew. Still, though, when he heard of the takeover, he knew the simple life remained farther away than he preferred. Today, when they encountered the officers and he saw the girl, he knew the true nature of this galaxy called.
Because darkness and its consequences trickled everywhere, even down to a lower-class ship crew. Perhaps not the darkness he and his family had witnessed, but the darkness of this Queen Bettina.
Suddenly, he felt the familiar pounding in his head. It had become uncommon since he retreated to this simpler life, but these thoughts and experiences brought it back. He’d drifted too far into his mind. He looked at Sora, striving to return his focus to the task at hand.
“You’re probably right, Kossk,” Sora said, standing upright. “Something like this doesn’t just start one day. This has been her life for a while.”
Talek didn’t know the extent of Sora’s history either, but he admired the man. He saw beneath the surface as well.
“Captain,” Viktor said, poking his head in the doorway. “Our contact has arrived.”
Sora nodded. “I would like to stay with the girl in case she wakes up,” he said, gesturing toward Talek. “Talek, would you go with Viktor to hand over the cargo?”
“You got it, boss,” Talek said with a nod. He headed for the doorway. “We’ll make it quick.”
Following Viktor, Talek turned left and walked through the corridor into the main hold. He spotted Fi sitting on the couch. “You may need to sharpen your sword again,” he said as he walked past. “Beheadings dull it, I hear.”
“Not mine. It’s withstood worse,” Fi said, grabbing the blade and twirling it. Light flashed toward Talek. “Did have to clean the blood, though.”
He flashed her a smirk. The woman intrigued him. Formerly a bounty hunter, she wanted to escape that life and joined Sora to retire. Similar to him, in a way. However, most of her life, thoughts and personality remained a mystery. Fi had a serious, stoic nature about her and yet she did not have apathy. She hopped to action just as quickly as Sora and Talek had once the girl appeared.
Talek proceeded, following Viktor out of the main hold and into the next corridor. They turned left again and walked down the boarding ramp. Talek quickly scanned the silver area, making sure no officers were in sight. Things appeared clear. Apparently, with all of the action and attention geared toward the fugitive, the Killer’s weapon situation had been forgotten. For now.
A dark-skinned man in a large, brown coat and a small, black hat stood by the weapons cargo. A gray cargo truck sat behind him. He shoved his hands into his pockets and lightly tapped his boots against the ground. Talek hoped the crew could trust him for these precious few minutes. They didn’t need another complication.
“Dr. Viktor Atkins, first mate of the Killer,” Viktor said, extending his hand as they reached the man. He removed his hand from his pocket and shook Viktor’s. “Captain Trok is pre-occupied right now, but your weapons are in tip-top condition.”
“Tony. I’ve spoken to Captain Trok. My boss couldn’t be here either, but he sends his regards,” the man said, looking at the boxes. “Everything appears to be accounted for. Any trouble?”
Talek cleared his throat. “With the weapons themselves? No, they are in prime condition. However, Con Security was not too pleased with the modified ammo.”
“I feared as much,” Tony said, sighing. “The Queen’s regulations are suppressing my employer and his organization more and more. How did you get them off your back?”
Talek and Viktor glanced at each other, but Talek cleared his throat again. “An encounter broke out, but we handled it.”
Tony’s unusually large, brown eyes went wide. “An encounter? You fought them to preserve our weapons?”
“You could say so,” Talek said, glancing at Viktor again.
“I will pass that along to my employer. He will be happy to hear that you were so committed to our job,” Tony said, shaking his head. He extended several metal, shining chips from his pocket. “Your payment, good sirs. 2,000 credits in full.”
Viktor took the credits. “Thank you. We wish you well in your endeavors.”
Two men appeared in the background, getting out of the cargo truck. They hurried forward and grabbed the weapon boxes, beginning to pile them into the back of the truck. T
ony turned and moved away from Talek and Viktor, supervising.
Talek’s words stopped him. “With all due respect, Tony, what are these for?”
Viktor turned to Talek, blinking. “Talek, I think that violates professional etiquette…”
Talek knew etiquette: no questions asked. However, based on Tony’s words, he had a suspicion and he wanted to find out if it held merit.
Tony halted, slowly turning around. He stepped back toward Talek and Viktor. “I don’t think that my employer wishes to divulge that information.”
Talek could detect the hesitancy in his tone. He would share. “We fought for your cargo and broke multiple government laws in the process. Our own lives are at risk. I think we’ve earned the right to know, sir.”
Tony bit his lip. He looked back at the cargo as the two men secured it in the truck, before sighing and looking at the ground. “Our… organization wants to be prepared for the backlash.”
“Backlash? From who?” Viktor said, now curious.
“Queen Bettina. As I said, her regulations and oppression are growing. My employer feels that it will not be long before we are in direct conflict with her. He monitors the flight path of the Bombard so that we stay out of her way, but he wanted weapons in case we do encounter trouble,” Tony said, finally meeting Talek’s eyes. The first time he had this entire time. “The takeover, the crackdown on galactic crime are foreshadowing the future. The media is suddenly silent, completely under her control, but we see what is really happening.”
Talek did not know what organization Tony worked for, but he didn’t need to. He gave Talek the information that he wanted. More people than just the Killer crew felt the government pressure and more people wanted to respond to it. Not a war, at least not yet, but a response. Tony’s body language had already said it all and now his words confirmed it.
Tony looked back again. The men had just secured the last box and sealed the group of boxes inside the truck. He glanced back at Talek and Viktor. “Take care of yourself, gentlemen.”
“You, as well, Tony. The Queen’s reach is growing. Be wary,” Talek said as the man walked away again.
“Do you think that was overstepping?” Viktor said as both men turned back toward the ship. “Captain Trok usually likes to keep a healthy boundary between us and the employer.”
“Like I said, we nearly lost our lives for those weapons. I wanted to confirm we weren’t the only ones out there concerned with this takeover,” Talek said, pausing as he put his right foot onto the ramp. He looked back at the oppressed world. “That information might be useful one day.”
“Careful not to get too caught up in politics, Dano,” Fi said. Talek snapped his head around to see her standing at the top of the ramp. Her silver hair glistened as the light of the silver city reflected onto it. “It’s unhealthy.”
Talek let a smile peek through his black beard. “True. Politics are not only boring, but pointless. Too insignificant for people like us.”
“My only hope is that the Captain agrees with that sentiment as well,” Viktor said, shaking his head as the two men ascended the ramp. “Speaking of which, I should check on our new patient.”
Viktor hurried away once they entered the ship while Talek stood across from Fi. The two of them stepped further into the entry corridor. “Did you mention you already did a test run with a few of his modified projectiles?” Fi said. “Pretty sure Sora and I both noticed.”
“I don’t think he needed to know every detail,” Talek said, chuckling. “Besides, they worked well for us. You know, took down those officers awfully fast.”
“Are there any left?”
Talek shrugged. “Possibly. Depends on who’s asking.”
Fi’s lips curled into a small smirk. Barely noticeable, but Talek could see it. He entertained her and he considered that an accomplishment. “Well, maybe I can borrow one or two on our next pursuit.”
“Fi Kal, renowned bounty hunter and weapons connoisseur,” Talek said, tossing her a wink. “Who would have thought?”
Fi scoffed, walking past him. “Never said I was renowned. Far from it.”
Talek stood still as he watched her go. Quite a mystery, indeed.
Bettina. Sirens. Soldiers. Officers. The woman overshadowed her, lifting up her thick, double-edged sword and striking it down…
Nait. Captured. Tortured. The officers tackled his mangled body, twisting his arms into their handcuffs.
“Run, Scout, go!”
Jaskia. Gone. Naos. Gone. Separated at the palace on Etionapa, as soldiers marched through the halls and laser-fire drowned out any other noise.
White stars surrounded her. Silence overcame space. The silver, hulking cruiser overshadowed the stars within seconds. Scout’s hands stuck to the controls, eyeing the Bombard’s black turrets as her small shuttle drifted past the flagship. The capital ship traveled quicker than any other, so if it saw her junk pile it would have it in seconds.
Scout gasped as her eyes snapped open. First, she saw a blur, but within milliseconds the world around her spun into place.
A small room. The faded green on the walls showed that this room wasn’t too high tech, but she did hear the beeping of a machine to her left. She felt a soft surface comfort her back. The softest surface she’d laid on in weeks.
“Her body is awake,” a hissing voice said. Mizan, maybe.
A man with brown hair and a dark, green jacket appeared over her, holding the rim of her bed. He looked to be in his early or mid-twenties, maybe. His hair covered his ears and forehead while his brown eyes locked with her own. Scout recoiled to the other edge of the small slab.
“Can you hear us?” he said. He sounded soothing and she didn’t like it.
“Where am I?!” Scout said, her eyes darting around as she continued to take in the surroundings. She saw a woman with blue hair leaning against the wall. As she spoke, she realized she had a mask over her nose and mouth.
“Calm down, miss, your body is only just now recovering from the trauma…,” another man, with slick black hair and a completely white lab coat, said as he appeared at the first guy’s side. He began to mess with the computer.
“Where. Am. I?!” Scout said, ripping the mask off of her mouth and nose. She chucked it across the room.
“Whoa, whoa, chill with the attitude,” the blue-haired woman said, raising her voice as she leaned down to grab the mask. The brown-haired guy held up a hand toward her.
He held his other hand toward Scout. Not to grab, but as if it was some peace-making gesture. She shoved her back even further into the metal at the other side of the slab and clutched it tighter.
“My name is Sora Trok. You are inside the medical bay of the Killer, our freighter,” Sora said, not pulling his hand back. His voice kept that soothing, calm tone. Scout scowled. “We rescued you from those officers on the streets of Volt.”
Scout remembered her ankles. They still tingled from the burn of the bolts. She fell off the ledge and passed out. Why hadn’t the officers captured her?
“My name is Dr. Viktor Atkins. We have been tending to your injuries in the hours since then,” the black-haired guy said, stepping back from the computer. “The rest seems to have done you well, miss.”
Scout remembered the shouts as she fell unconscious. The officers started fighting again. They yelled something about her having “allies.”
These people?
“Why? Why did you… rescue me?” Scout said, not even liking the words as they left her mouth.
“Your body is that of a child,” the hiss said, stepping out from behind the Sora dude. Yup, a Mizan. “The bodies of the government wanted to take the life out of your body. It did not sit well with our minds and souls.”
“Uh-huh,” Scout said. She began to lose feeling in her palm from gripping the metal so tight.
“We already had an encounter with those officers and we knew they were corrupt. When we saw you run by, we knew that we weren’t going to let them kill you,” So
ra said. His hand still hadn’t moved either.
She gulped and her whole body started to shake. She didn’t know if the trauma of the last several days and weeks had caused it or if it stemmed from this strange encounter. “So, you decided to fight government officials and fix me up just because you wanted to? Because you felt like it was right?”
“Pretty stupid, huh?” the blue-haired woman said, rolling her eyes.
“Yes,” Sora said, giving her a reassuring nod. “We know what it’s like to be on the streets with nothing.”
What a nice assumption.
“We don’t know you, but we know you didn’t deserve that,” Sora said. “No one does.”
“Who said I have nothing? You just said it: you don’t know me,” Scout said, scowling again as she straightened her back. She did feel much stronger than she had several hours ago. She did not feel exhaustion or sweat constantly running down her face.
Sora didn’t reply, frowning slightly. The others looked at each other, except the Mizan.
“Your body has seen much hardship,” he said.
Scout gulped again, looking down for a few seconds. They did make a correct assumption: she didn’t have anything.
“My name is Scout,” she said, continuing to stare at her lap. She didn’t want to make eye contact again. Not yet. “Yeah, I’ve been on the streets for a while. Fled the capital planet a few weeks ago and ended up here. Been constantly running from them.”
“Etionapa? What was a teenager doing there?” the blue-haired woman said, narrowing her eyes.
Scout didn’t feel like delving into a history lesson of her life on the galactic capital. She paused and Sora jumped in. “Why are you running?”
Maybe he detected that she didn’t want to answer the first question.
Scout sucked in air through her nose and let it build up in her chest. Her body tensed but she let it sit there. The first long breath she had taken in weeks. Finally, she blew it out of her mouth and felt her chest relax. The first relaxation she had felt in three weeks and four days.
Survival, Dark Times Page 4
