Shattered Alliance

by Benjamin Wallace

  The king waved off Thurgood’s threats and gestured to the glass in front of him. “Would you like some more kordblat, Captain?”

  “Is that what I’m drinking?” Antarius asked.

  “It is.”

  “Then, yes. Yes, I would like more kordblat.”

  The king snapped his fingers and one of the many servants stepped forward with a pitcher.

  The captain watched as the teal liquid filled his empty glass about halfway. There the servant stopped.

  “What’s this? Is there some kind of kordblat shortage?” the captain asked. He pointed to the glass. “C’mon on, man. Fill it to the brim. Keep the kordblat coming.”

  The king cut a slice of yellow meat and placed it in his mouth. It was either not considered rude to talk with your mouthful on Shandor, or the king didn’t care. “I can’t help but notice that you haven’t touched your roasted dolgrath.”

  “Oh, yes,” Antarius said, and took a sip of the kordblat. “That’s because I’m allergic to weird food.”

  The king swallowed and paused. He gestured toward the captain and gave the gray alien a look that roughly translated to ‘see?’ Passive aggressiveness was hardly unique to humans and the king was no stranger to the practice. “Perhaps you would like something else then, Captain?”

  “I don’t know,” Antarius said, making sure his boredom with the whole affair came through in his tone. “Do you have anything that isn’t gross, disgusting or repugnant? You know, something that might get around the old gag reflex?”

  A flash of anger appeared on the king’s face but it quickly vanished with a cough from the Rox Tolgath. The king smiled and asked, “What would you suggest?”

  “I don’t know. How about pizza?”

  “My people don’t like pizza, Captain Thurgood,” the king said with fading patience.

  “Every planet’s people likes pizza, pal. It’s Earth’s greatest export. There’s not a planet in the Alliance that hasn’t embraced it.”

  “But you’re not on an Alliance planet. Are you, Captain?” the Rox Tolgath said. “This planet is now a part of the Righteous Empire, a ten thousand year old civilization that has risen from—”

  “Ten thousand years old and you haven’t figured out pizza?” Thurgood laughed a full and hearty laugh that sprayed kordblat across the table. “I’d hardly call that civilized.”

  “I told you they were insufferable,” the king muttered, and drank from his own glass.

  Rox Tolgath Malbourne spoke next. “Captain, your bravado is understandable, if not appreciated. Though our worlds are separated by countless parsecs it seems a soldier is a soldier is a soldier. No?”

  “Agreed. But I don’t know why you have to say it three times.”

  “My point is that although we are a different people, a different race, our occupation as commanders unites us. Tell me, do you think it is a dedication to duty, or an understanding of what must be done to succeed, that makes it so?”

  “Can’t it be both?” Antarius asked.

  The Rox Tolgath smiled, “I guess it could be—”

  “Or neither? Let’s go with neither. Whichever one you don’t like.” Antarius lifted his glass and took a drink without taking his eyes off the armored man standing behind Malbourne.

  He could feel the man staring at him through the helmet’s dark glass. He’d sensed eyes like that before. It was the sense of eyes that felt nothing when killing. A dispassionate stare that divorced itself from the horrors it witnessed and caused. It was the sense of a stare of a very dangerous man.

  “Why isn’t your friend with the monster face joining us?”

  “He is my Lictor.”

  “I’m sorry,” Antarius tapped the translator in his ear. “In English it sounds like you said he licks you.”

  “No. He is my attendant.”

  “Well, the two of you certainly look happy together.”

  “But only in lethal matters.”

  “And he’s ugly?” Thurgood assumed. “Is that why he never takes the mask off?” The captain smiled and took a drink of kordblat as he felt the Lictor’s gaze harden.

  “You surprise me, Captain. I’ve read much about you and your exploits. I thought a man of your upbringing would be more well-mannered.”

  The captain burped. “You’ve read about me?”

  The alien nodded.

  “That’s weird. I haven’t heard of you at all.”

  “That is because we didn’t want you to hear about us, Captain,” the Rox Tolgath explained with a delight he didn’t try to hide. “For years, we’ve hidden our movements. You will never know the depths of our subterfuge. We have plotted in shadows and worked in whispers to—”

  “Maybe,” the captain said with a feigned yawn that he had learned in his formative years at Fullsworth Academy. “Or maybe it’s because I’m awesome and famous and you’re not.”

  The Rox Tolgath was unphased by the response. “This is true. But both of those qualities seem to be nothing more than the result of lineage and nepotism.”

  “And I’m amazing at both those things.”

  “Perhaps. But the scion is not the father, is he? Your father, by all accounts, appears to be an extraordinary man. And he possesses many qualities my own people respect. He appears to be brutally efficient, ruthless in his decision making and he’s built his own empire of sorts, hasn’t he?”

  “You forgot cold, distant and frequently absent.”

  “Still, he seems a rare breed for an Earthian. I wonder if he won’t feel more at home in our empire. A place that recognizes and celebrates remarkable individuals. Unlike your own home world.”

  Antarius’s eyes hardened. “You can bag on Dad all you want, Grayface, but don’t you dare bag on Earth.”

  The king nearly spit his kordblat through his nostrils as he laughed at the exchange.

  The Rox Tolgath was not as amused. “I’m afraid Earth has had its day, Captain.”

  “Not if I have anything to say about it,” Antarius said.

  “You don’t have anything to say about it, Captain. It doesn’t matter what you or anyone else thinks about it, Earth is finished. Your alliance is finished. The Righteous Empire is the new power in the galaxy. We cannot be stopped. It is our nature, our destiny, to rule The Known.”

  “I’ll stop you.”

  The Rox Tolgath laughed. “I admire your spirit, Captain but… you’re here. Your fleet has withdrawn to Earth. Your military has been all but decommissioned. You are outgunned. You are obsolete.”

  “Do you really think that’s going to save you from me, Rox? I’ll be out of here in no time. And once I am, I’ll be coming for you.”

  Kordblat covered the table in front of the king as the teal liquid shot from his nose and a pair of sand-gills that the captain hadn’t noticed before. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what you tried to say but the translation was hilarious.” His majesty roared with laughter while he wiped the ale from his face.

  The smile had disappeared from Malbourne’s face, however. The alien leaned forward over the table. “Your Security Council has already bowed to our will. The cowards have left you and your crew to your fate, Captain. No one is coming to rescue you.”

  6

  It wouldn’t be Cason’s first time to associate with the less than reputable. The less than reputable were often the most reliable when it came to getting information. The less than reputable were the most likely to sell a security code, expose a weak spot in a system or turn on a coworker, friend or family member. The more he thought about it, the majority of his work was done with the less than reputable because they were the only ones you could completely trust to do the wrong thing. But this was the first time he had found the less than reputable in such a glamorous place.

  The FouRitz Sky was the product of a bygone era and more than a few corporate mergers. It had been the last stand of American opulence back when national pride was still a thing, and the massive tower had been built with one purpose—to reclaim
the title of world’s tallest building.

  It was a distinction that America had held for the entirety of the 20th century but lost early in the 21st. For half a century, America made no effort to reclaim the title. As countries across Asia, the Middle East and South America vied for the title, America did nothing. When the country finally got back in the game, the world took notice.

  The Sky was the tallest building in the world by a literal mile. It set records for the world’s highest restaurant, the world’s highest swimming pool, the world’s highest aquarium, the world’s highest swimming-with-the-sharks experience and the world’s highest death by shark attack. It somehow even managed to capture the record for the world’s highest basement.

  And, naturally, the FouRitz Sky was also the world’s highest luxury hotel.

  He arrived in the lobby of the Cloudline Suites after spending several minutes in the elevator and made his way to the room number he’d been given. He knocked on the door and waited.

  Cason always had a plan. They weren’t always good plans and sometimes they involved jumping off buildings, but he always had a plan. Now was no different; he had a plan. But, as he waited for the door to open, he wasn’t sure what that plan was. He knew the Oncilla by reputation only and he couldn’t be certain how he’d react to finally meeting him.

  The man’s reputation read like a degenerate’s resumé. That was either fantastic or shameful depending on what you were looking for. The Oncilla was an accomplished smuggler, brigand, pirate, con artist and more. The cad had even made it onto Cason’s to-do list more than once by harassing Thurgood’s mining fleet and raiding Thurgood Shipping. They still weren’t certain what the criminal had stolen from Thurgood’s private servers when he broke into Harius’s personal yacht a year ago.

  But the Oncilla had also earned a reputation as a ghost and proved most elusive. In fact, the man had been the only prey that had been able to elude Cason. But Maze was in good company. No one had been able to catch the criminal. No law enforcement agency in the system had even managed to catch a picture of him.

  Cason had come close in Chryse. And he had missed capturing the master thief by only a few minutes in a bar on Tharsis. Now, his most elusive target stood on the other side of the door and Thurgood had simply made a call to arrange it all. It was an indication of the sum Harius must be offering for the smuggler’s help.

  Cason knocked again and honestly didn’t know how he’d react when he finally came face to face with the bane of his career. The professional in him wanted to stay calm and relaxed until the job was done. The Oncilla was just another contact. Just another case. But his pride planned on punching the pirate in the throat without warning, or possibly taking out a knee and watching his once-elusive prey writhe in agony before him. He heard the latch turn and honestly wasn’t sure which side was going to win the argument.

  When the door opened, it was the teenager in him that won the argument as he instantly fell in love.

  The woman was gorgeous. And she was gorgeous, period. It wasn’t in some measured way. There were no caveats. She was gorgeous in all the ways that gorgeousness was measured. Her eyes were beautiful like a celestial phenomenon where time and energy came together to spread across dimensions. Her hair didn’t so much fall to her shoulders as it descended gracefully like a million dancers on aerial silk. Her dress was cut from an alien fabric and seemed to actively caress her every curve as she stood before him. She didn’t say a word and, even in her silence, her voice was captivating.

  Even the scenery behind her made her look like an angel. Pink and white clouds billowed out the window of the sky suite, giving her the appearance of a Renaissance painting, much like Botticelli’s Birth of Venus but with much nicer breasts.

  He found his words somewhere in the back of his throat. “I’m looking for the Oncilla.”

  “You must be the great Cason Maze,” she said with a flawless, gorgeous smile.

  All he could do was nod, and he wasn’t even sure that was the right answer.

  “Aren’t you going to come in?” she asked.

  It was only then that he realized she had walked away from the door. His feet jumped ahead of his manners and he was inside the suite before he thanked her for the invitation.

  “Have a seat,” she said, waving a hand toward a plush sofa in the center of the room. “Would you like a drink? I’m having one.”

  He nodded and sat all in one motion and watched her intently as she made the drinks. She didn’t ask what he wanted and he didn’t think to say. When he took the offered drink, it was perfect. But he had indulged his inner teen for long enough. It was time to act like a professional once more. He took a drink and cleared his throat and his thoughts. “This is my favorite drink.”

  “I know, Mr. Maze.”

  “Is the Oncilla here?”

  She sat in the chair across from him and took a sip of her own cocktail. The woman studied him over the rim of the glass and he could see a smile in her eyes. She finally lowered the glass and spoke. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Very,” he assured her.

  “What do you know about the Oncilla, Mr. Maze?”

  “He’s a thief.”

  “A very accomplished one,” she agreed, and took another sip.

  “That’s hardly admirable. An accomplished criminal is still a criminal. The Oncilla is a smuggler, a pirate.” His list went on and on and the longer it went the more he broke free of the woman’s spell. He began to remember why he was there. He concluded the litany of crimes with a summary. “In short, the Oncilla is a scoundrel.”

  “You sure know a lot about him,” she said with a smile. “Here’s something that you may not know. No one has come closer to catching the Oncilla than you did.”

  “Is that so?” Cason asked.

  “It is,” the woman said. “I always thought that was a pretty impressive feat.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Now, I consider it even more impressive considering you never even knew what I looked like.”

  It wasn’t the first time he felt stupid. There had been plenty of other instances in his past. Actions or statements that still came to haunt him in the middle of the night and make him twitch randomly before falling asleep. But this amount of stupid was going to rank in the top 5. It would also be the first moment to make the top 5 that didn’t happen in high school.

  He wasn’t sure how much the surprise showed on his face so he hid behind his glass and took a long drink while he tried to figure out a way to save some of his dignity. He lowered the glass and shrugged. “I honestly didn’t expect to catch you in a place like this.”

  “Just to be clear,” the Oncilla said with a laugh and a wave of her finger. “You didn’t catch me anywhere.”

  He let his gaze wander around the opulent suite. “I guess I expected someplace… I don’t know… seedier.”

  “A hive of scum and villainy?”

  “I suppose,” he said, now feeling a little embarrassed for making the assumption.

  “Why in the world would I hang out in a place like that?”

  “That’s where criminals hang out.”

  “Bad ones do,” she agreed. “But as we’ve already covered, I’m not a bad criminal. I’m an exceptional one. And I didn’t get into the game to live in hives, hovels or scum holes. In fact, I specifically became the galaxy’s greatest outlaw so I’d never have to hang out in places like those.”

  Cason leaned forward and set his half-finished drink on a glass coffee table. “I assume you know why I’m here?”

  “Naturally.” She stood and refilled her glass from the bar cart. “Daddy’s little boy has gotten himself kidnapped again and needs someone to bail him out of trouble.”

  “An Alliance Captain and his crew have been captured by an unknown enemy force and they need extracting.” His rephrasing of the situation didn’t change what she said at all. But he thought maybe it made him look like less of a schmuck.

  She waved off
the correction. “Semantics. Either way, I have to smuggle your righteous butt onto a potentially hostile planet so you can run an errand for your boss.”

  “You’ll be doing the Alliance a great service,” Cason said.

  “I’ll be doing it for a great deal of money.” She set the bottle back on the cart. “And don’t try to play me, Maze. If the Alliance was involved, you wouldn’t be here talking to me. You wouldn’t be involved at all. Instead there’d be an Alliance ship speeding toward Shandor with a diplomatic team. It’s obvious they want nothing to do with this.”

  “Is that going to be a problem?”

  Even her sarcastic laugh was alluring. It wasn’t just dismissive, it was full of a passion he had never heard before. She was going to enjoy the challenge.

  “Well, if that’s settled… what should I call you? What is the Oncilla’s name?”

  “You can call me Priscilla,” she said.

  “That’s a little… that’s not really your name. That’s just too obvious.”

  She shrugged and smiled, and that was the end of that discussion.

  “Priscilla it is,” Cason said as he stood from the couch. “We should get going.”

  She matched him as he rose, finished what was left in her drink and set the glass on the cart without making a sound.

  That’s when the door to the suite exploded in a shower of splinters.

  The foot that did the detonating landed heavily in the suite, attached to a massive green biped that had to turn sideways to fit through the doorway. He had four eyes, three chins and the bad breath of at least seven people. Four more aliens of various races moved into the room behind him. They barely came up to the giant’s shoulders.

  Cason looked at Priscilla. “I don’t think they’re here for me.”

  The alien pointed a massive finger toward the woman and growled with a voice that rattled the glasses on the bar cart. “You double crossed me, woman!”

  “Is this going to be a problem?” Cason asked.

  “Why would this be a problem?” she said with a crooked grin.

  “We are in a hurry,” Cason said, and reached toward his gun.