Rebel Sword

by Peter Bostrom

  Contents

  Title

  Dedication

  Front Matter

  Prologue

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  30

  31

  32

  33

  34

  35

  36

  37

  38

  39

  Epilogue

  ebook backmatter

  REBEL Sword

  Book One

  of

  GALACTIC KNIGHT

  Peter Bostrom

  For my three favorite admirals: Kirk, Adama, and Ackbar

  To be notified of future books in The Galactic Knight series, sign up here: smarturl.it/peterbostrom

  Peter Bostrom is the pen name of Nick Webb co-writing with other authors. Rebel Sword is by Nick Webb and Jacob Rennaker.

  Copyright 2020 by Hyperspace Media

  Other books by Peter Bostrom:

  The Last War Series:

  Book 1: The Last War

  Book 2: The Last Hero

  Book 3: The Last Dawn

  Book 4: The Last Champion

  Book 5: The Last Strike

  Other books by Nick Webb:

  Constitution, Book 1 of the Legacy Fleet Series

  Mercury’s Bane, Book 1 of the Earth Dawning Series

  The Terran Gambit, Book 1 of the Pax Humana Saga

  PROLOGUE

  “NIX COMMAND, I’VE got your patrol report for gamma sector—nothing out of the ordinary here. Just me, Private Chu, and the blessed heavens.”

  Private O’Connor tapped the communicator on his wrist to sign off.

  He looked down the ridge and saw an uneven field of dull gray outcroppings. Nothing else. So he continued to shuffle with his awkwardly heavy anti-grav boots along the patrol route around Pluto’s smallest—and most neglected—Peacekeeper facility.

  O’Connor tapped his communicator again to open a private channel to his patrol mate and said, “Saints preserve us! I feel like I’m in purgatory.”

  “You’ve never been on the maintenance crew,” Chu said. “It’s even worse—terrible work and everyone there’s an idiot. I’m lucky I got this transfer.”

  The clunky metal sensor in Chu’s hand lit up and he cursed in surprise.

  “What?” O’Connor asked.

  “We’ve got an unknown energy reading coming from the downside of this ridge.”

  O’Connor looked once more across the barren landscape and saw exactly what he had seen before: nothing. He looked back at Chu’s device, but it had gone dark. Chu shook his head.

  “Do we need to call it in?” O’Connor asked.

  “No, it’s probably just a malfunction. I’d be surprised if we had equipment that actually worked out here,” Chu said, whacking the communicator against the palm of his hand.

  “Well, I’m tired of walking the same route day after day, so what do you say?” O’Connor said. “Let’s have us a look.”

  “I don’t think that’s such a good idea, O’Connor.”

  “Oh, come on. What’s the worst that could happen?”

  “Fine,” Chu said. “The reading came from just over there—less than a klick.”

  The two picked their way down the slope and began to cross the rocky terrain. Chu slapped his device once, twice, and on the third time, it lit up abruptly in a blue-white glow.

  “It says the anomaly should be right—”

  “Over there?” O’Connor interrupted, pointing to their right.

  Several meters away, the air over the dull gray dirt was shimmering.

  “Chu . . . what are we looking at?”

  “I—I don’t know. Maybe it’s a thermal vent. Or—”

  The shimmer suddenly exploded into a kaleidoscope of neon color then just as quickly spiraled back into itself to form a shimmering circle about two meters in diameter. The rainbow-colored shape rippled in the air, just inches above the ground.

  “Mother of God,” O’Connor whispered.

  The spell broke instantly as something leapt out of the colored circle. It was a humanoid figure, clad in off-white armored plates that trailed a red and black cape. O’Connor had only a shocked instant to register the faint orange glow hovering around the pointy-toed boots before they planted in a spiral of dust and a dark, T-shaped visor snapped in his direction.

  But the two soldiers were already in motion—Chu dove to the side and O’Connor dropped to the ground just as a flash of scarlet whizzed over his head. He quickly leveled his plasma gun and fired. The plasma slug connected with the smooth off-white breastplate in a flash, catapulting the stranger backward.

  It lay in a heap on the ground with its chest armor now interrupted by a fist-sized black hole. Above, the rippling sphere of color continued its silent dance.

  O’Connor swatted at his communicator. “Nix command—come in! Code red!”

  Nothing answered but crackling static.

  Chu was slapping at his own communicator. O’Connor re-opened their private channel and shouted a Hail Mary when it successfully connected.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah—no thanks to whatever that was,” Chu panted. “And I’m pretty sure that . . . rainbow hole is disrupting our long-distance communication. Let’s get back to base on the double.”

  “Wait—let’s check it out first. We need something to report.”

  “O’Connor . . . ”

  But O’Connor was already approaching the armored body. Chu was close behind. The intruder’s cape was a tangle beneath him, red on the outside, black on the inside. Embedded on the outer edge of each boot was a small, glowing orange stone and directly beneath them shone two ornate black crosses, side by side.

  “Must be anti-grav tech,” O’Connor said, “though he looks like a bloody archbishop with all these jewels and crosses on his wellies.” He reached down to pry a heavy black weapon from the intruder’s hand, revealing the general shape of an old-fashioned short rifle. At its end, though, was a semi-circular piece of metal that bent back toward the weapon’s stock, a thin string connecting its two ends.

  “A crossbow?” Chu asked.

  “Aye—very medieval. But look at the handle,” O’Connor said. A small ruby twinkled up at him, a single silver cross beneath it.

  The intruder’s other limp arm brandished a small metallic shield, which Chu detached and turned in his hands. A round purple gem was inlaid at the center, gleaming above two more black crosses.

  “They certainly are devout. Would you look at all these crosses?” O’Connor said.

  “Crosses? Looks like plus signs to me,” Chu said, rubbing absently at the back of his helmet.

  “Well, I’ll be damned if they’re not Templar crosses—what, are they fecking crusaders? See how each arm is the same size and flares out at the end?”

  “What do you think they mean? Energy capacity?” Chu asked.

  “Could be,” O’Connor said. “Or maybe intensity. Let’s take this weapon back to base. Rand should be able to—”

  Suddenly, the shield flew out of Chu’s hands as if yanked by an invisible string. The two soldiers stood mesmerized as it sailed into the swirling, colored portal, which had now swelled to several times its original size.

&nb
sp; Then, in turn, the crossbow was jerked from O’Connor’s hand and followed the same soaring arc as a clawed hand shot out of the portal and snatched it.

  Out stepped the contents of a nightmare: an enormous, fanged helmet crowned a hulking figure in rough red-orange armor that looked like fur. In one enormous fist it clutched both the shield and the crossbow as it flexed a massive, spiked bicep. In the other hand writhed what looked like a glowing red serpent—a long, furious red whip.

  Two off-white armored figures emerged from the portal holding glowing red swords and marched to take their places at either side of their leader. The enormous red monster tilted its helmet toward Chu and easily crumpled the reclaimed shield and crossbow with its spiked hand, then tossed them casually to the side.

  Without a word, O’Connor and Chu both leveled their weapons and released a fury of plasma fire. In a glowing red blur, one of the soldiers leapt directly into the line of fire, his sword expertly deflecting each plasma slug. As he did so, the sword flared a brighter red.

  O’Connor and Chu were frozen. The armored monster thrust out an arm and Chu was yanked off his feet by some invisible force.

  As he sailed through the air, the monster swung his whip and sent its glowing red length hurtling toward Chu. A heartbeat later, the whip connected in midair with Chu’s flailing body.

  There was a loud crack followed by a flash of red light, and when O’Connor’s eyes finally adjusted, he saw Chu laying on the ground with a gaping hole where his chest used to be.

  “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” O’Connor breathed.

  He looked back up at the killer, who raised a spiked fist in response. Just behind him, a dozen more armored figures poured through the shimmering portal, red capes flashing behind. They parted around the monster and the two sword-wielding guards, forming a defensive barricade in front of them.

  O’Connor unleashed a frenzied barrage of plasma slugs, but the enemy raised their shielded arms and easily deflected the blasts.

  In response, they leveled their crossbows. O’Connor leapt sideways, landed behind a nearby outcropping, and took up a defensive position. He hit the communicator on his arm three times to activate his microphone and record a distress call.

  “Nix command!” O’Connor yelled as he continued to fire his futile plasma slugs at the enemy’s line. “Code Red! We have an incoming army in gamma sector . . .”

  He ducked as a volley of thin, glowing red objects raced toward him. “They’re coming through a portal that looks like . . . like an eye made of rainbows!”

  O’Connor popped back up and fired a few more shots before ducking again. “And their weaponry is unlike anything I’ve seen. Their leader looks like a bloody monster, and—”

  The outcropping O’Connor was hiding behind started to shake violently before tearing out of the ground. The armored monster was making a pulling motion with his colossal arm as the rocky mass flew backward over his fierce-looking helmet.

  “Dear Lord! I swear it’s like . . . like they’ve got magic.”

  That was the last thing O’Connor said before his exposed form was struck by dozens of glowing red arrows. As each pierced his suit and entered his body, it released an explosion of pain. O’Connor screamed out in wordless agony.

  He slumped to the side, and with what little life he had left, O’Connor uttered a desperate prayer.

  “Holy Father, may you raise up a warrior to defeat these monsters . . . and blast these bastards to kingdom—”

  A whip snapped, and there was silence.

  1

  SO THERE I was, pausing for breath around the corner of a long corridor. Everything around me was practically sparkling—way cleaner than the base where I was stationed. It was so clean I could actually smell the sharp tang of sanitizing fluid.

  I looked down at the polished black floor and saw my reflection looking back at me. I grinned. No—too big. That made me look like an idiot. So I smirked instead. That was better.

  I activated my laser sword with a snap and a hiss. It glowed yellow and hummed softly in my hand, the humming growing louder as I moved it through the air. I gripped tightly with both hands, raising it slowly to my right shoulder, and peeked back down at my reflection.

  Getting warmer.

  My short, reddish brown hair was, miraculously, perfectly messy. My brown hooded robe hung dramatically from my broad shoulders. But I felt I needed something more, so I furrowed my brow a bit and leaned forward.

  There—that was it.

  I tightened my grip on the laser sword, gave my badass reflection one last look, and spun around the corner.

  The silver and black walls were completely lined with enemy soldiers in their identical white and polished armor. Even so outnumbered, I knew they were no match for me—except for the fact that each of them held a gleaming black blaster rifle.

  I had to get to the large metal doorway at the end of the corridor. But all those sons-of-bitches were right in the way. Terrible odds. But I had the element of surprise, so that had to count for something, right? So I did what any self-respecting space warrior would do when outnumbered thirty or forty-to-one.

  I charged straight down the middle of the corridor.

  As soon as they heard the slap of my boots against the floor, their domed helmets snapped around, and all eyes zeroed in on me through their big, black, bug-eyed visors. I reached the closest of them just as he raised his blaster. With a massive grunt, I swung my laser sword with both hands in a wide circle and sliced through the barrels of the three or four (or ten) blaster rifles that were closest to me before they could even get a shot off. There was a satisfying clang as their smoldering barrels hit the floor.

  I shifted my laser sword to one hand and raised the other toward the squadron of white-armored soldiers, yelling, “Force push!” With that, my invisible power threw the front line crashing into the second, toppling them all into a confused pile of shouting dominoes.

  But the next row was ready. They stepped forward for their turn, instantly showering me in blaster rifle fire. But, in a blur of yellow light, my laser sword deflected the bright enemy bolts and sent them ricocheting off the walls or back into the chests of their makers.

  Still, the attack continued. So I looked up at the long line of white lighting fixtures above and squeezed my fist, sending a loud popping noise followed by a high-pitched screech of metal tearing through the air.

  I spread my fingers wide, yelled, “Force slam!” and swooped my outstretched arm down toward the squirming mass of soldiers still struggling to get to their feet. There was another screech as the light fixtures suddenly came loose and slammed down onto the fallen soldiers with a dull crunch.

  I grinned and picked my way gracefully over the wreckage, finally reaching the large metal doorway at the end of the corridor. I punched a large button, and a double set of doors hissed open diagonally. The expanding diamond shape might not have been very practical, but it was impressive.

  The only lights in the massive room beyond radiated from faintly glowing horizontal strips of deep red that ran along the walls. Starlight shone in through the tall circular window at the end, where I could just make out the shape of a hooded figure on a throne.

  It was probably a trap.

  So, of course, I entered.

  The double doors hissed shut behind me, and I was swallowed up in the darkness. A moment later, a large something stepped out from the shadows into a patch of red light.

  His black bug-eyed helmet stood a good head taller than my normally imposing—and dashingly handsome—six-foot frame. He let out loud, mechanical wheezing noises through his triangular grate of a mouthpiece. It sounded like a robot with asthma, which would have been funny—but only if this dangerous man had been far, far away from me.

  The black synthetic leather of his uniform was a little too kinky for my tastes, and smack-dab in the middle of his chest was a control panel. Another poor fashion choice. I shook my head.

  But he was wearing a pretty
awesome black cape. I’m going to be honest with you: I was a little jealous of the cape. But before I could picture how I’d look in a cape like that, he reached out a beefy arm and activated his very own red laser sword with a snap and a hiss.

  So there we stood with our glowing swords drawn. Then, in one sweeping motion, he lunged forward and swung that red laser sword at my head. Luckily, I was ready for him.

  I yelled, “Force jump!” and sprang over him, meeting his blade in midair before twisting and landing behind him. I kicked him in the back. Bam! He let out a louder-than-usual wheeze and staggered away. I sprang forward to slice him in half, but he spun around faster than I anticipated and thrust his weapon at the very last moment to block mine.

  We both pushed forward and our locked blades sputtered and popped as we tried to gain ground on the other. I grunted and he wheezed, and that’s when I had a brilliant idea.

  Under my breath, I said, “Force jump!” and leapt back three or four meters away from the man in black. Just as I was landing, I raised a palm toward him and with all my might yelled, “Super Force push!”

  An invisible wave hit him squarely in the chest, denting his control panel and sending his red laser sword flying. He sprawled onto his back in a flurry of black cape. Then everything went silent, except for the sputtering mechanical wheeze of the shiny black helmet.

  I’d done it! Defeating this villain would prove once and for all to the entire galaxy that I was a true hero. I held my laser sword in my right hand and with my left I grabbed the edge of my robe and swung it in front of me so it billowed a bit for dramatic effect.

  I heard a wicked cackle come from the shadowy hooded figure still seated on the throne, but ignored it as I strode up to the struggling form of my enemy. Then, in the most heroic voice I could muster, I said, “I think it’s about time I end your reign of terror once and for all . . . DARTH VADER!”