Starblazer

Home > Other > Starblazer > Page 12
Starblazer Page 12

by Spencer Maxwell


  “I saved you using the Essence imbued within the crystal.”

  Ryze rolled his eyes.

  “Then really, explain how the Thrathan didn’t blow your head off?”

  Ryze held up a hand. “Now hold on, wait a minute here. First of all, she wouldn’t have blown off my head. The armor I wear, that stuff can withstand a fission torpedo. A little blaster fire would’ve just dinged it, and that’s nothing new to me. Go examine my armor, you’ll see it’s full of the scars of battle. It comes with the territory.”

  “A fission torpedo? You can’t be serious.”

  “Well, sweetheart, I am.”

  “Sir,” Spex said, “if you don’t mind me interjecting—”

  “I mind,” Ryze grumbled.

  The AI went on anyway. “You are neglecting to take into account the extensive brain damage you would be likely to suffer from such a close-ranged shot. Your head would rattle around in your helmet like a…like a…”

  “Hamster in a bontoball?” Jade finished for him.

  “Thank you, Queen Jade. I have never been good at similes. So, sir, it is safe to posit that you would be…inoperable.”

  “Odd simile, but okay,” Ryze said.

  “Boom!” Jade said, ignoring him and shooting up from the table so fast her plate rattled. “Hear that, Starlo? Inoperable.”

  “I’m not a cybersoldier. I’m a human being. Geez, Spex, have a little respect,” Ryze said.

  “I am sorry, sir.”

  “So without me,” Jade said, “you’d be, at the very least, a brain-dead hamster.”

  Ryze shrugged. “Maybe, except you didn’t make the bounty hunter miss.”

  “Open your eyes, dummy!” Jade shouted. “She didn’t miss. She was blocked by something I conjured up. A forcefield.”

  “A forcefield,” Ryze laughed. He got up and walked toward the dishwasher, putting his plate inside. “Next you’re going to tell me you can fly without the help of a spacecraft.”

  “I’m not messing around, Mr. Starlo. I conjured up a forcefield for you.”

  “And I carried you and your friend’s unconscious bodies out of the comm center before the Dominion showed up and turned you to corpses. Look, we can argue about this all day. Is the Essence real or not? Who knows? But blasters, on the other hand…they’re a proven commodity.”

  “Men,” Jade said, shaking her head.

  Ryze plopped down on the couch in the back corner and kicked his feet up. The meatbrik had really hit the spot. He was even starting to feel sleepy again. Another nap would do me wonders, he thought, visions of his pillow dancing around his head. He knew what would come of that, though: tossing and turning, the silence weighing heavily on his mind, bringing up dark visions of the First War. It wasn’t worth it.

  “What if I show you?” Jade asked. The urgency in her voice jarred him out of his momentary mental lapse. She sounded like an overexcited child who wanted their parents to see the good grades they’d gotten on their report card.

  “Show me what?”

  “The Essence.”

  “I’ll give you a million frags not to,” Ryze answered.

  “Sir,” Spex chimed in, “you are quite a ways off from having a million frags in your account.”

  Ryze pinched the bridge of his nose and looked down. “Spex, you really, really want me to pull your plug, don’t you?”

  “Not particularly, sir.”

  Ignoring their banter, Jade stepped away from the table and toward Ryze. The way the light hit her face reminded him of the gone Xovian king. It was something in her eyes, the perpetually serious look about them. She had the hard-iron face of a ruler, and Ryze didn’t doubt that, given the chance, she would’ve changed many things in Xovia for the better.

  Then those eyes rolled to the back of her head, showing the veiny whites. She outstretched her arms and began murmuring unintelligible words.

  Ryze chuckled. “Are you—are you having a seizure?”

  Jade didn’t answer.

  Suddenly, something changed inside of the room. The lights dimmed, the air felt cooler, almost cold, and the queen appeared to grow taller.

  Ryze blinked slowly, still doubtful. Growing up on Xovia, he had heard much about the Essence, where the Sisters—what was left of them, which had not been many in Ryze’s youth—originated. Even then, he had doubted the power. Those around him believed in one thing and one thing only: The way of the gun.

  “Jade…okay, you’re kind of freaking me out—”

  Then came a crash as loud as blaster fire. The sound made Ryze stand and get into a defensive posture. It was crazy to think an enemy was on the ship, but old habits die hard, and Ryze found his hand full of a small handblas. Even in regular clothes, he never went around unarmed.

  Another crash. And then another.

  The crystal around Jade’s neck pulsed with vibrant colors—red, purple, green. Ryze’s eyes were drawn to it. He felt weakened—

  “Do you see?” Jade asked. Her voice was distant. “It’s real.”

  Ryze twitched his head, coming back to the now. “What in the hell?” He looked past Jade. On the table, two cups and her plate had shattered. All that remained were their glittering pieces.

  “Is that not proof enough?” Jade asked.

  For a long moment, Ryze didn’t answer—he couldn’t. His voice had vanished, along with everything he thought he knew about the galaxy.

  Rumors are always rooted in truth, aren’t they? It was his mother, long deceased but sounding as if she was right there next to him. A narrow mind will knock you on your behind.

  His own internal voice: But this can’t be real. I’m asleep, and I’m dreaming. He walked around her, giving her a wide berth, and picked up one of the glass shards. He examined it closely, squinting. It was hot, so hot it nearly burned his fingers. The proof was right there, wasn’t it? And hadn’t Jade…changed? The same way the legends said one practicing the Essence would change?

  Yes and yes.

  Jade looked on, satisfied. “I have trained with the Sisters since I was but a young girl. Still, such power does not come easily to most, royalty or not.”

  When Ryze finally got his voice back, he said, “Yeah, that’s plenty of proof, but if you’re such a novice, answer me one question: How in the hell did you do that back on Xovia?”

  “I wish I could tell you, Starlo,” Jade answered. Gently, she placed the crystal dangling around her neck in her palm. “My best guess is this.”

  “This whole mad God-King hunting that thing down for nefarious purposes is really starting to sound more and more plausible.”

  “That’s what I told you.”

  Ryze still stood over the table. He blinked again and looked at the shards, making sure he wasn’t hallucinating.

  He knew he wasn’t, but still…

  A few moments later, Wylow joined them from her nap. She, too, wore one of the loose-fitting jumpsuits Ryze had on board. Her curly hair was frazzled, and there were impressions on her face from the pillow, but other than that she looked pretty well, healthy and normal.

  “What’s going on?” Wylow asked. She studied Ryze, the broken flatware, and the crystal around Jade’s neck. “Oh. She’s showed you the Essence, hasn’t she?”

  “I guess so,” Ryze answered.

  “Eerie, isn’t it?”

  “That would be an understatement.”

  Jade smiled triumphantly. “You’ll get used to it.”

  “Meaning what?” Ryze asked, arching an eyebrow.

  “Meaning your journey with us isn’t over,” Jade said. “I think it’s just beginning.”

  Ryze tilted his head back and laughed. “I don’t think so. Just because you saved my life and we bonded doesn’t mean I’m going to take on the entire Dominion now. You shouldn’t, either. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re a little outnumbered.”

  “We don’t have to be,” Jade said, her tone hopeful. “There’s whispers of a growing rebellion.”

  Ryze
shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. All the planets and people of the galaxy could band together, and we still wouldn't be a match against the Dominion. They’ve got enough power to wipe out whole star systems.”

  “No, not yet, but if they get this,” Jade motioned to the crystal, “that’s exactly what will happen.”

  Ryze shrugged. "I wish I could—”

  Suddenly, the ship jolted, causing them to be thrown off balance. Jade tumbled backward onto the couch, Wylow next to her. Ryze, however, wasn’t so lucky. He fell into the wall, elbows and knees knocking against the metal. He pushed the pain away, too concerned with figuring out what happened. From the cockpit, the familiar array of alarms blared, and the emergency lights blinked on.

  “Spex, talk to me!” Ryze shouted.

  The AI’s voice sounded weak. “Searching…searching…”

  Ryze looked over his shoulder at the women. “Everyone okay?”

  Jade nodded, though her eyes were wide in terror. She expected the worst, Ryze could tell.

  “Don’t worry, we can’t get attacked while in the middle of a QJ. Not even the Dominion has access to that type of technology,” he said.

  I think.

  “Main systems,” Spex said, “are offline, sir. We have been pulled out of our QJ.”

  “Welp, we can get attacked now,” Ryze said. “Why are the main systems offline?”

  “We'd better go strap in, Jade,” Wylow said.

  “Searching…searching…searching…” Spex continued as Ryze headed for the cockpit, the AI’s voice following him faintly—a result of the main systems being down. “It seems the Starblazer’s regulator circuit has been damaged, sir.”

  “How bad? Give it to me straight.”

  “Completely fried, sir. We are lucky to have gotten as far as we did with our QJ, but it was the QJ that did the circulator in. I should’ve realized this…”

  “Shit,” Ryze said, “but don’t beat yourself up.” It seemed a lot of luck had been involved in this entire operation, and if there was one thing Ryze didn’t like relying on—besides mysterious powers like the Essence—it was luck. “We’ll have to make an emergency landing. Where’s the nearest system?”

  “Less than one parsec away, sir. At our current speed, having come out of a QJ, we should be there in less than two hours.”

  “Good. What’s the system? The nav-computer is down.” In an emergency situation such as this one, the main reactor diverted most power to the life support system.

  “The Sindorix System, sir.”

  Ryze leaned back in his seat and ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. “I’m guessing you’re gonna tell me the closest planet we can land on is—”

  “Cryton IV, sir.”

  Ryze exhaled slowly. This was not good, not good at all.

  “My databank shows they possess the resources and intellect to help us repair the ship,” Spex said.

  “I know that. That wasn’t the concern.”

  “Then what is it, sir? I’m picking up a faster than normal heart rate.”

  “I owe their leaders a lot of frags, not to mention a lot of citizens the same. And they’re not exactly a forgiving bunch…”

  “I’m sure they will understand. Perhaps we will catch them in a forgiving mood.”

  Pushing away all doubt and thoughts of escape, Ryze said, “Yeah, let’s hope so.”

  But he knew better.

  As soon as the Starblazer entered the system, long-range scanners would pick them up, and a convoy of snarling bugs in ugly ships would escort them to the planet’s surface. There, a thousand armed guards would be foaming at the mouth to finally put a beamblast through Ryze Starlo.

  Twenty-Two

  The Calamity came out of QJ in the Zenith System. On the bridge viewscreen, Ace Silver looked at the planet Zed in the distance. A large ball of swirling red, a ring wrapping around it, where miners extracted precious gems. A dangerous job to be sure, but Zed’s main source of income. Of course, the Dominion took most of their earnings.

  Ace had never been here before. He did not care for planets this far out—the people were strange, the dialect hard to comprehend, and the climates often uninhabitable.

  “Sir, the mercenary’s signal,” one of the crew said, “it’s coming from the Gashei outskirts.”

  “Good. Prepare my shuttle,” Ace replied, not turning around. His eyes were transfixed on the planet, the swirling reds and yellows, the hanging cloud of smoke and exhaust from the gem processing factories.

  “Sir? Are you sure? We have a crew ready and waiting to touchdown.”

  “That will be unnecessary.”

  “Yes, sir.” The crew member’s voice sounded uneasy. “Who would you like to come with you?”

  “Two cybersoldiers.”

  “No sentient guards?”

  “No.” Ace didn’t like the fact he had to be accompanied by any soldiers, but he knew he wasn’t as young and spry as he once was. Part of getting older was learning your limitations. The Thrathan warrior would be a challenge for sure but a welcome one.

  Ace retired to his quarters, where he was fitted into a nanosuit and helmet, and strapped with a breathing apparatus. The pollution on Zed would knock years off his life without it. He carried a blasrifle over his shoulder and a handgun on his hip. The weight of the weapons felt good, felt right.

  As he walked through the corridors to one of the ship’s hangar bays, flanked by two cybersoldiers, their footsteps ringing out on the metal floor, Ace saw the looks that passing crew gave him. He was not oblivious to that. Some were of respect, but most were of pity.

  Look at the old man thinking he’s a fighter again, they probably thought. How foolish.

  Most of them were too young to have seen Ace’s former glories firsthand—the planets he'd conquered, the armies he’d taken down by himself. They’d only heard the stories and legends.

  Ace couldn’t wait to prove them wrong. This whole ordeal hadn’t been completely his fault, and as much as he hated the power that seemed to be turning the God-King insane, he was a loyal servant to the man, and he wanted to prove this by righting his and his army’s mistake. He would bring the Thrathan’s head to the throne, along with the crystal, no matter the cost.

  Maybe I am being foolish, he thought, but this wasn’t a bitter realization. I would rather die fighting than be comfortable and safe on a ship’s bridge while others do my fighting for me.

  At the hangar now, they entered the transport’s door.

  The trip to the planet’s surface was quick and painless. They touched down a few miles out from the Thrathan’s signal.

  “Let’s go, my metal friends,” Ace said.

  The bay door opened with a whoosh, the ramp rolled out, and the glaring desert sun met him like an old friend.

  Ace stepped onto the sand, the cybersoldiers following behind and their footsteps muted. The wind blew harshly, and grains dinged off Ace’s armor. Loud from inside of his suit.

  Get a hold of yourself, he told himself. You’ve trekked through worse conditions. Remember Frost? The planet so cold, your breath would freeze upon leaving your mouth? Of course he remembered. He was there as a young soldier, separated from his battalion. There, he'd fought an ice monster, barely winning, and losing his cryosuit in the process. It had been ripped to shreds by the monster’s talons, and the main function—to regulate his body temperature—was depleted, but he didn’t allow that to slow him down. Ace Silver didn’t give up; hell, he didn’t believe in giving up. He was a stubborn man all those years ago and still was a stubborn man today. He had often heard that death shied away from no one, and when it was ready to take you, you had no say, but he found that saying untrue—because death did shy away from Ace Silver. He had trekked miles and spent hours in those subzero temperatures on Frost. He'd walked and walked until he found his camp. Luckily, scouts had seen him a couple of klicks out and rushed his way. Very lucky. If the day hadn’t been clear, death certainly would’ve won that battle
.

  He'd spent two weeks in a thermal tank afterward. Three surgeries to fix frostbitten limbs and flesh, and scars he would have for the rest of his life. When he was put back together, the military awarded him an honorable discharge due to the nature of his wounds but Ace refused. He served another five years as an off-world scout, rising through the ranks and spilling tons of blood. And this was just one of the many times Ace Silver had fended off death.

  He knew it wouldn’t be the last time, either.

  I can make it through anything, he thought, and he pushed forward through the whipping sand, his respirator filtering the pollution away and filling his lungs with sweet oxygen.

  The few miles took him and the soldiers three times as long to traverse than it would’ve under normal conditions. By the time they reached the base of the mountain, Ace’s muscles ached terribly. Had the signal from the Thrathan’s ship not been so strong, he would’ve taken a break, but the red dot on the map in the upper corner of his visor burned as bright as his muscles did. There was no time for breaks now.

  They moved up the mountain, navigating through boulders as large as the Calamity. Passing through the shadows offered momentary refuge, but he didn’t savor it the way he wished he could, like the way he would savor killing the Thrathan.

  Out of breath, sweat pouring from his forehead and fogging up his visor, Ace and the soldiers came around the path they’d been following and onto a large plateau. A single-seat starcraft was parked in the shadows.

  He stopped and looked at the ship with a smile. He waved the soldiers forward, drawing his rifle, flicking the safety off. As they got closer, he saw the Thrathan’s boots sticking out from beneath the craft. She was fixing something underneath the engine.

  I see no one else, he thought. No queen, no renegade who saved her. That was okay; it didn’t change anything. He still wanted his revenge, still wanted the mercenary’s head. Perhaps he would have it mounted and hang it in his quarters on the Calamity, a constant reminder of who was superior and victorious.

  Yes, that sounds good. Very good.

  Ace directed the soldiers to either side of him as he approached the alien. How sweet this was, to find her unaware. Surprise, surprise, Akyra. He couldn’t wait to see the look on her face.

 

‹ Prev