The Alorian Wars Box Set

by Drew Avera

  “Honestly, we’re safe and we’re already here. Leaving atmosphere now would just put more strain on the ship and be more of a risk than it’s worth. Let’s do what we have to do, but in the meantime we should really think about upgrading our security if we stay,” she said. “The last thing we need is to be caught off guard.” That was the least they could do. She still felt the best decision was not coming to Farax, but it was too late, and they had already put more strain on the ship than they had intended. It would need to be inspected for damages before taking off again. She hoped the hull was not breached, especially with the poisonous gases in the Faraxian upper atmosphere.

  “Agreed,” Brendle said, turning to look at the monitor. Anki turned as well to see what drew his attention to it.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He turned back to her. “Nothing, just hoping the screen stays like that long enough to get us out of here. That wasn’t the best welcoming committee I’ve ever seen and I don’t want to find any more of them if I can help it.”

  Anki smiled. “Me too. Pilot, how long before we can land?”

  “Based on my programmed security protocols, after a few hours of flying without incident, I can have us on deck within an hour after the recommended delay, Captain Anki. If you choose to negate the security measure, I can have us on the ground in twenty minutes. Which do you prefer?”

  She looked at Brendle, placing her hand on his chest and feeling the quick beat of his heart under her fingers. “I don’t think we should risk it,” she said.

  “I don’t either,” Brendle replied, nodding his head.

  “Keep us flying until you are sure we are out of harm, Pilot.”

  “As you wish.”

  “If you need us, we’ll be in our stateroom. Please forward all controls to the console there.”

  “Done, Captain.”

  “Thank you.” Anki pulled Brendle in close to her and their lips met. Adrenaline pumped through her veins and made her heart flutter. Feeling Brendle pressing against her body made that rush more of a thrill. Perhaps a few hours of flying over Farax would give them just enough time to calm down after their near-death experience, and she knew just how she intended to spend that time. “Are you ready to go?”

  Brendle smiled as he looked into her eyes. “Oh yeah. We just need to take care of something real quick,” he said.

  “Like what?”

  He shrugged and took her hand. “You’ll see.”

  11

  Crase

  Luckily for Crase, the storm had passed and the resulting fire of his decoy ship exploding in the distance had burned out. The smoldering scent of underlying scorched debris filled his nostrils as he struggled to carry Neular’s unconscious body off the transport. The thin layer of dirt covering the iron-rich bedrock gave the burning landscape a metallic tinge. The ship contributed to the smell, as did the bodies burning with it. The air was thinner on this port, but the small size of the planet made the atmosphere carry over from other locations as the brisk winds tormented the rocky landscape. The sun was about to set again, a result of the coming solstice, but moving in the darkness was something he was born into and thrived on. For a majority of his career he had craved the anonymity the shadows provided, using them for his benefit and cashing in on the opportunities they provided. He needed the shadows now more than ever. It would do no good for him to be prone to attack at a moment of relative weakness, especially as he carried the only helping hand he had across his sagging shoulders. His body strained under the weight, already exhausted from hours without sleep. I’ll sleep when the mission is done, he thought, trying to motivate himself to take the next step forward.

  He stopped for a moment to check on Neular as the shadows devoured their forms. Neular’s vital signs were waning and it was only a matter of time before the gray man expired. Crase didn’t need a ship’s computer system to tell him that. He took heavy steps, sucking in the thin air through flaring nostrils. One foot in front of the other, he made his way through the dank streets and into a seemingly abandoned alley.

  To those who knew her, Tesera was a practitioner of health; her skills invaluable to many races in the ever-expanding Greshian Empire. To those who believed the myths, she was a witch, stealing souls and casting them into the River of the Damned in order to lengthen her own life. She was immortal in their eyes. To Crase, she was a means to an end and her blood would spill just as easily as the Greshian mole’s had earlier. But he owed her his life in a peculiar situation stretching back two decades. She had saved him from himself in a way. The younger version of him had taken on more than he could handle and the result was a body riddled with enough holes that he should have died. Tesera took it upon herself to drag his dying body back to his ship and break intergalactic law by transporting them out of the system.

  She had once had a life as a royal practitioner, but the political landscape had shifted and she found herself on the run when Crase found her. It was Tesera’s beauty that made him stand up for her, the hormones of an ignorant kid clouding his judgement. She said it was fate they found each other, but he rejected the notion and drove a wedge between them by dumping her on Farax under false pretenses. He had relied on her in the past, but the spark which once unified them was gone. Now, she was merely an acquaintance, and another check in the block for regret he carried with him. Her life is better this way, not being involved in the world I’m trying to shield her from, he thought as he walked through the alley. It was a lie spun by guilt, and he knew it.

  A door blocked his path when he finally made it. Supporting Neular’s body against the rough exterior wall, Crase rapped his knuckles against the rusty metal frame. He knew better than to expect her to answer right away, yet the impatient mind was difficult to calm.

  “Come on,” he hissed, feeling the pelting grit against the back of his neck as the nightly winds kicked up furiously. The storms were the worst part of being on Farax; everything else fell to second place.

  Through the seam between the door and the door jamb, light illuminated forth, the dull amber glow of years-old lighting speckled in dust. The door opened, squealing as the hefty steel groaned against its rusting hinges. The groan sounded like relief to Crase.

  There she stood, taller than any man Crase had ever drawn his blade against. Tesera loomed over him, a frown pouting her lips as her brown eyes softened when she sniffed the air. She was just as beautiful as he remembered, but he pushed the thought from his mind before he could linger on it too long. “His blood is poisoned?” her ability to sense and diagnose ailments was one of the reasons people thought she could be a witch. The truth was, it was a skill she developed through years of training, but it was impossible trying to convince superstitious people of that.

  Crase looked at Neular, the man’s body barely standing as his form leaned against the wall. He looked dead already if not for the shallow hiss of air escaping his throat as he breathed. “Yes. There was an explosion and a large metal fragment sliced through his thigh. I cleaned it as best I could, but I’m afraid it had been lodged in his flesh for too long by time I was able to do anything about it.”

  She nodded and pressed her fingers against Neular’s neck. “His pulse is weak, but present. I think I can help him. Please, bring him inside.”

  Crase craned his neck to the side, and the sound of vertebrae popping sounded in his ears. He tucked his arm under Neular’s and lifted the heavy man enough to drag him carefully into Tesera’s home. Inside, the pale glowing lights cast shadows in different directions. The walls were lined with books, mostly glazed in dust, but this part of the home was a front.

  He found her leaning against a wall, but this one lacked the caked-on grime of years of neglect. “This way,” she instructed, opening a large door built into one of the sagging bookshelves and revealing a stark white room full of polished metallic equipment. It was a stark contrast to the faux living area they just came from, but that was part of the act. Tesera wasn’t a witch, but a doctor, and
one whose past kept her from basking in the glory her talents deserved. Crase knew this because he had seen her fall from grace firsthand. Truth be told, he never really wanted to bring her to Farax, but what made him leave her here was too painful to remind himself of. The pretense of their journey here was his way of manipulating her heart for helping others, but he was only ever looking out for himself. His lies that he was only trying to protect her were in direct opposition to the truth he refused to dwell on. That stubborn, ignorant young man was a selfish ass and he didn’t deserve how much better his life would have been he had kept her in it. He choked the thought back before it had a chance to rise. Neular is the most important thing now, not what could have been.

  Tesera led them to a bed and helped Crase lay the dying man on his back. Crase watched as she checked Neular’s pupils and expertly inspected his body for further harm. She scanned him, using some form of tech Crase had never seen before. But she seems to be well acquainted with it, he thought.

  “The poisoning has spread and is weakening his heart. He lost a lot of blood and needs a transfusion if he’s going to live through the night,” she said grimly.

  “Do you have any stored?” Crase asked.

  She shook her head. “Not Lechun blood, no.”

  Crase’s heart sank. “Is there a suitable substitute?”

  “No. The Lechun have unusual blood. They have long lifespans, but foreign bodies in their bloodstream create a high mortality rate. I can do only so much for him without the transfusion, but if he doesn’t replenish the blood he lost, he will die.”

  “Do you know of any Lechun on Farax?”

  She turned and faced him, her expression stern. “I am a prisoner of this world, not a refugee. If there are Lechun on this planet, I wouldn’t know. Perhaps you could make yourself of good use and search the ports? I know their world was destroyed, but you never know who you’ll bump into when you pay attention to your surroundings.” There was a point to her words fluttering beneath the surface, stabbing at Crase. Outwardly, he didn’t flinch, but inside he felt the pain of her accusation. It was his indecision and neglect that caused her to be caught and imprisoned on this world. She sought refuge, and because he was selfish, she was condemned. His shoulders sagged as he took a deep breath, thinking the fact she was alive was the best he could do for her at the time. If she only knew the truth.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  Crase eyed her, so many words forming on the tip of his tongue. He could apologize for the mistakes of his youth, but he’d already done so thousands of times, careful not to reveal the treachery of the past. He could point out her own flaws, but she had but few, and he needed her help. “Don’t worry about it,” he said through gritted teeth. This day is beginning to be too much, he thought. Maybe I’m getting too old for this. “You have my contact information?”

  “I do,” she answered.

  “Good. I’m heading out. Please do me the courtesy of calling if I run out of time.”

  “I will.”

  There was a moment where he wanted to say something else, but he couldn’t find the right words, so he said nothing at all. Instead, he turned and left as he had so many times before.

  12

  Brendle

  Using mag-boots, Brendle led Anki through the messy passageways of the Replicade, whispering notes to himself as he assessed the damage and neglect of the warship. It was funny how the disaster of disrepair only stood out now that they were going out and looking for problems needing to be solved. Some were obvious, such as low-hanging cables which should have been mounted higher in the overhead. Other problems were harder to find, like frayed cables or even cables cut entirely with the circuit still powered. He found that the hard way when he watched sparks fly as a cable end made contact with the bulkhead. The shower of blue sparks rained down onto the deck and caused Brendle to nearly trip over Anki as he turned to get away from the hazard. She laughed it off with a questioning gaze, which didn’t do much to boost Brendle’s ego. But egos heal, he thought, at least they heal better than being electrocuted does.

  The ship was flying level now, but every so often it lurched as it hit turbulence, and the mag-boots helped keep them on their feet. The boots made the walk more labor intensive, but Brendle knew firsthand what it was like to slam into the bulkhead when the ship maneuvered wildly, and it was not an experience he looked forward to revisiting anytime soon. He rubbed his head at the memory, of their miraculous escape from the Telran and subsequent jump through Key Lourna. They all had their scars from that day, and even though the bump was no longer there, he could still feel it in his subconscious. They make restraints on ships like this for a reason, he thought.

  Compared to the Telran, the Replicade was a heap of functional metal, and he was surprised she had lasted as long as she had without a proper overhaul. There was evidence of an attempt made to overhaul the ship, but most of the work was incomplete and left the ship mostly in disarray. He imagined many Greshian officers would lose their shit to see a warship in this kind of condition. He felt the same way, but the evidence pointed to this ship being a salvaged ship at some point, no longer operational for a military. The Replicade was their salvation, and he was thankful for her, warts and all.

  Brendle continued his walk with Anki behind him as he made mental notes of every compartment and what needed repaired. Cables sagged from the overhead and several fixtures were not properly mounted to the bulkhead, and those were just the easy finds. What the Replicade really needed was a thorough inspection and timely overhaul to get her back into warfighting shape, but that wasn’t something they had time for now. They needed to focus tackling the big jobs, the ones their lives depended on: life-support systems and hull integrity. As much as he hated to say it, the fire hazards would need to be handled by the crew and pieced together enough to not bring harm. Maybe one day we can get her a proper overhaul and make her like new again.

  “You see this?” Brendle pointed towards the overhead where frayed wiring was exposed when his light shined upon it. During normal illumination it was cast in shadows, a silent hazard.

  “Yes,” she answered, jotting down a note. “Repair overhead wiring,” she said as her pen scrolled across the page.

  “Yeah, we don’t have time for a repair crew to do that. It’s something we will need to do ourselves. I’ll probably jump on it while you and the guys are away, so there’s no need to add it to your list.”

  Anki stared at Brendle, an annoyed look on her face as her brow creased and her eyes narrowed. He realized this was the seventh or eighth time he’d pointed out a repair just to tell her not to book it with the contractor.

  “What’s the matter?”

  Anki exhaled heavily and stared him down. “This isn’t exactly how I wanted to spend the last few hours before landing,” she said, the bite of her words just on the nice side of snapping at him.

  He was taken aback, sure she led him to believe she was down for making love, but he didn’t want to mix signals after the pirate situation. He thought it would be best to tackle some of the work needing attention around the ship, to consolidate their time into something productive. “I’m sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I didn’t want to take advantage.”

  “Take advantage? What do you think I wanted to do? That wouldn’t be taking advantage.”

  Brendle shrugged, “It’s just that the lingering threat of death has a way of affecting people’s way of thinking. I didn’t want to make you feel pressured into anything after I already pushed you into being captain for this mission. Besides, there’s a ton of work that needs done on this ship. I thought doing this would be a good distraction from worrying about landing on Farax.”

  Anki scoffed, “I had a much better idea for a distraction,” she teased. “I guess it’s too late now, but you need to cut out pointing things out to me unless you want me to contract it out. I’m getting tired of crossing things out.”

  Brendle smile, “Yeah, I guess I’m used to doing
this kind of thing on a ship with a large crew and no threat of being killed by staying in the same place too long. I guess it’s muscle memory.”

  “It’ll work out. Besides, I think we have plenty to do while on Farax.”

  “You’re probably right,” he replied, looking over the compartment for more things to occupy his time while the rest of the crew would be off-ship. He knew he needed the distraction to keep from worrying. At the moment, he was feeling more useless than anything else. The truth was, now that they were about to embark on a mission and leave him on the ship, he wasn’t feeling very useful. He silently hoped that his repairs of the ship could at least make him look like an equal player in the unfolding events.

  Anki shouldn’t have any issues scheduling repairs, but dealing arms on a world like Farax isn’t something Malikea and Deis will necessarily excel at. At least with Brendle’s military background he could negotiate and build some kind of report before any kind of exchange took place. As it stood, they would be lucky to get half what the weapons were worth, and that was looking on the positive side. “So, you’re all set for your first time on Farax?”

  Anki nodded, and her features softened, but the frustration was still there. He could feel it, but he didn’t think it had as much to do with bedroom antics as something else troubling her now.

  “I don’t like the plan to stay here.”

  He nodded. “I don’t either, but the ship took a beating when we went through Key Lourna. Getting permanent repairs to the hull and a few other things could make the difference between life and death. Besides, we needed to do a supply run weeks ago. Things won’t get any better if we wait to go somewhere safer.” Even though that is probably a smarter decision, he thought, but it’s too late to do anything about that now.