“Please, King Tar’libon,” the eldest of the two pleaded. “We have told you all we know.”
“And where did this Haddron Lariscthyus take what is rightfully mine?”
“To Earth, your Highness.”
The King roared in response to the naming of his enemies. The one planet in all the cosmos that not only defied the Ka’traxis Brood, but sent it retreating. All the King had ever known was victory and subjugation over those he sought to conquer. The loss to the one planet harboring life in the Sol System was an affront to his people’s superiority. “It is for me alone to unleash the fury of such power on my foes. I was promised!”
The last surviving council members cowered in fear of the King’s rage. Neither of them wanted to end up as their fellow Nordics, dead on the floor of the council chamber.
“You were promised?” the eldest Nordic asked, confused by the King’s meaning. “Only the Council can grant such request.” His tone became braver than before.
“Strong words for one who cowers before me. Do you think me a liar?”
“Haddron took the Slagschip by force. We would not—”
Tar’libon burst into laughter. “My good people. What would you call this?” The King spread his arms wide, presenting the carnage of his force all around them and reinforcing not only his threat but the assurance that if he did not get his way he would continue tearing them apart. He placed his hands behind his back in a complete reversal from the menacing stance he had before. “Perhaps I have gone about this the wrong way. I do not suppose an apology would carry much weight at this point. So I will save it should I act in such a way again. One of your own promised me the Slagschip in exchange for a full assault on Earth, a task I would gladly perform for no fee. I have already begun the assault. It won’t be long till that pitiful excuse of a species is wiped clean from the cosmos in a fire as hot as the very star that gives you light and life. My missiles will—”
The doors to the chamber burst open and two Ka’traxis Brood warriors ran into the Council. They dropped to their knees in front of the King.
“Forgive the intrusion, Highness,” they said in unison in the native Ka’traxis Brood tongue.
“You will speak in the language of Erra,” Tar’libon commanded. “I want our gracious hosts to know what we know.”
The warriors glanced at one another, fearful of saying the wrong thing.
Only one spoke in a broken response. “King Tar’libon.” His eyes darted along the floor as he searched for the correct translation. “Attack halt. Fire stop on Earth.”
The King rolled his eyes and looked down at the Council Members. “Was that not terrible? Have either of you any notion of that report?”
The Nordics shook their heads, not understanding what the warrior reported.
Tar’libon opened his hands in a threatening gesture. A gesture aimed right for the Catter that reported the information in broken Erran. He suddenly stopped and closed his fist, retracting his claws. “No. I will not spill my own people’s blood because of their ignorance.” He turned back to the Councilmen. “After all, it is a rather difficult language. It took me years to become proficient in it. Now, if I understand correctly, my missile attack on Earth has been stopped.”
The one warrior nodded, uncertainly.
“Have you any idea who would do such a thing?” the King asked in his language.
“Sire, we know there was an anomaly many miles outside of Erra. We await your orders before sending a team.”
The King turned back to the Nordics and crouched down, coming eye to eye with the men. “A reprieve for you both. I will find this Haddron and I will take from him what was promised me.”
The King did not wait for a response, verbal or silent. He stood and walked toward the Grand Council door. His warriors followed close behind him.
The Nordic men trembled and looked around the room, saddened at the loss of their fellow council members but relieved to still be alive.
* * *
The King stepped outside onto the streets of Shugaar and surveyed the destruction his people had already caused. Nordic men and women lay along the road, their faces permanently frozen in terror. A few of his warriors limped along the sidewalks. That was evidence that someone on Erra was fighting back, though Tar’libon doubted they were still alive to continue doing so.
“Sire, shall we send a scout team to investigate the anomaly?”
The King turned back to the Great Council building. His eyes narrowed as he considered his options. Just above the building but much higher, he caught a glimpse of the moon sized vessel hanging just outside Erra’s atmosphere. Its true color faded in the Nordic sky. “What use have I for Nordic technology? Not when I have you in my armada. Worry not. You will soon be joined by another.”
“Sire?”
“Tell the fleet. I want the people of this planet gathered for the transition. Who needs a Slagschip when I have an entire planet?”
“Yes, sire.” Both warriors bowed and rushed to do as commanded.
“Even so, a promise is a promise. I now have a new name to follow. I will save Earth for last. Before that, I will find this Haddron Lariscthyus.”
* * *
Haddron stepped lightly onto the catwalk and surveyed the cargo bay. Irons stared at the smaller ship resting on the floor. His Cyber Eye moved back and forth, scanning for movement. It was the only time he’d wished the eye’s other functions worked. X-ray and thermal scanning would make finding Elit a walk in the park. But all he had to rely on was being a sharp lookout.
“Why ain’t he taken the thing yet?” Irons whispered.
“I could not tell you why Elit does as he does, Captain Irons.” Haddron crouched down, holding onto the banister rail. He peered into the large cargo bay. “He has never betrayed me before. Though I admit surprise at that revelation.”
“Surprise?” Elit’s voice came from nowhere. “You speak of betrayal but align us with the humans. Earth Fleet humans no less.”
Haddron stood. “We need their help to save our home.”
“You never asked.” Elit’s voice was almost inaudible.
“You are under my command.”
“You never asked us,” Elit repeated. His tone was menacing.
Irons looked over his shoulder and up in the ceiling with its steel beams. It was a perfect place for the lithe Elit to hide.
“I have no need to make request of you.” Haddron’s tone was superior. His very voice signaled an elevation above the others.
“You never asked me!” Elit’s boots came out of nowhere as he thrust them into Haddron’s back, sending him over the banister to the floor below.
Irons turned to a rising Elit who held a knife in each hand. “I dunno where you keep getting those things but I know where I’m gonna stick’em.”
Elit swung at Irons who dodged the first attack. The second slash came from above but Irons spun out of the way and slammed his elbow into Elit’s head.
It took little time for Haddron to climb up another ladder leading to the catwalk. He rushed forward but stopped just short of the knife tip aimed right for his eye.
Elit turned to his former leader. “You may be fast, Haddron, but I’ve learned a thing or two.”
Haddron swiped the knife out of his face but Elit crouched down, swiping the second blade at Haddron’s legs. The long-haired Nordic hopped backwards while Irons leapt into the air, one knee down and ready to smash Elit into the steel walkway.
Elit rolled forward and popped up, slashing at Haddron, keeping him on the defense. He knew that if he let up even a little, Haddron’s speed would overtake him. His only hope was to get in one lucky hit.
What attacks Haddron could not evade, he blocked. Eventually Elit would slip and then Haddron could overtake the traitor.
Irons stared on as the two made their way toward the wall. He knew Haddron would lose the advantage if he were pinned. Elit wasn’t as fast but those knives covered his vulnerable spots, making it h
ard for Haddron to counter or change tactics. The Captain looked back over his shoulder, expecting to see things changed but the panel in the wall was still there. He raced to it and pressed his hand against the panel. A door slid open, revealing a sawed off side by side shotgun. Another antique from another time.
He grabbed the gun and pushed the lever to open the barrels. It was loaded. With one hand he flicked the gun closed and aimed.
“Duck, Haddron!”
Elit spun around to Irons while Haddron did as told without question. Irons pulled the first trigger but hit nothing except the wall above Haddron’s head while Elit vaulted over the banister to the floor below.
Irons and Haddron followed him.
“I will save Erra on my own!” Elit shouted as he ran to the ship.
“You will alert the Ka’traxis to us!” Haddron raced after Elit, leaving Irons well behind.
There was no way Elit could outrun the speed superior Nordic. He pressed the lens on his teleporter just as Haddron was nearly on him and vanished.
Irons finally caught up to Haddron. “He could be anywhere on this boat.”
“He could already be on Erra.” Haddron positioned himself back to back with Irons as the two of them scanned the cargo bay.
“These things got that kinda range?”
“He would have to bridge the distance by teleporting on to a Ka’traxis Brood ship.”
Another light flashed. Irons aimed the shotgun and fired just before another flash went off. Just as before, the bullet hit empty air.
“I’m out.” Irons tossed the gun away and readied his fists.
Another flash went off by the far wall. Then another on the opposite side, followed by one more.
“What’s he doing?” Irons asked.
“It could be a ruse of some sort.”
“Don’t look like no ruse I ever seen.”
One more went off near the cargo bay door. This time when Elit appeared, he didn’t teleport again.
“No!” Irons yelled. “He was looking for the damn bay door switch.”
Elit turned to both of them and flashed a mischievous grin. Haddron teleported but Elit punched the switch for the door and ported away. Appearing where Elit had vanished, Haddron looked around in confusion.
The strobe lights were getting Irons’s nerves. He covered his eyes as one more went off but what he saw next terrified him.
The door to the cargo bay was opening and already crates and other supplies that weren’t secured, slid toward the door as the vacuum of space sucked them toward it.
Haddron grabbed a nearby electrical conduit and held on for as long as he could. He tried to reach for his teleporter but the risk of being pulled out of the ship was too great for him to release even one hand.
Irons grabbed onto a nearby jackhammer cart chained to the floor to keep from being pulled into the cold void.
Another flash lit up the room. This one was slightly diffused. Irons glanced in its direction, finding Elit inside the cockpit of the smaller ship. The traitorous Nordic smiled and waved at the Captain. Irons gritted his teeth and tried to reach for his own teleporter but just like Haddron, the risk was too great.
The ship was already sliding along the floor toward the bay opening. Elit didn’t even have to turn on the engines. The vacuum of space pulled it with ease. It would only be a few seconds more and the smaller vessel would be on its way to Erra.
“The armor, Irons!” Haddron yelled.
His words were muffled in the roar of oxygen being sucked out of the cargo bay.
“What!”
“The Gevecht Bepantsering!”
Irons shifted his gaze from Haddron to the escaping ship. The heat wave from its thrusters was already warping the air around them.
“Use the armor!” Haddron yelled once more.
Irons looked down at the vest and noticed the dial right next to the yellow rectangle. He reached for it and the vacuum’s pull jerked him toward the door. His single grip on the cart finally gave out as he turned the dial.
While Captain James Irons was pulled toward the open door, his vision shifted from normal to a digital overlay of everything he could see. His feet clanged onto the wall just at the door release switch. An electrical sound buzzed in his ears and he looked at his feet, suddenly covered in armor. He glanced at Haddron who still held on for dear life.
The roar of the vacuum was doused and all Haddron could hear was the muffled sounds of the ship skids as they scraped along the floor. He glanced at the opening and watched the ship finally exit the cargo bay.
“No!” Irons yelled.
“Use the armor!” Haddron shouted. “He must not make it to Erra!”
Haddron’s voice was coming in loud and clear. The Captain’s eyes darted around the helmet’s display, looking for anything resembling a communications icon. “Hannah?” he asked, hopeful it was just a matter of speaking.
Digital static crackled in his ears. “Captain? What’s going on? The bay doors are opened. I can’t shut them from here.”
“Don’t worry about it. Just turn on the FAC. I’m going after Elit.”
“But, how?”
“I got a new toy.”
Irons lifted one foot and found the magnetic adhesion released. The suit knew what he wanted without him having to make any commands. A sly smile crossed his face.
“Alright Elit. Let’s see what kind of pilot you are.” He hopped forward and let the vacuum take him.
Nine
A Paddle Without a Boat
Irons tumbled end over end in the void of space. Righting himself with no thrusters or rudders was proving impossible. His only hope was to find something to stop his spin.
Captain James ‘Albatross’ Irons was an excellent pilot. Few in Earth Fleet could ever compare with his ability behind a ship’s wheel. It was those very skills that led to his victory on Radial IV and the recent defeat of the Catter Queen’s armada and Flagship. It was also that ability that allowed him to run circles around the superiority of the Nordic Slagschip, a vessel that rumor had touted as impossible to take down. And even though those rumors ultimately proved true, it didn’t change the fact that James Irons was the closest Captain and pilot to ever put the Nordic battle weapon through paces the likes of which it had never known.
Behind a wheel and in a ship, Irons’s current predicament would be little more than an annoyance. But he was without wheel and without ship. And he was getting farther away from both his ship and the smaller vessel, stolen by Elit.
“How do you fly this blamed thing?” he asked, hoping someone would answer him.
Suddenly, thrust shot out from the bottom of his armored boots as well as from the palms of his hands. The opposing forces stopped the spinning and put Irons in a stationary position.
“Captain?” Hadddron’s voice came through the helmet. “Captain, can you hear me?”
“Haddron?”
“I made it to the bridge. The armor you wear has navigational, offensive and defensive capabilities.”
“I had a feeling. How do I make it work?”
“Neural interfaces. The armor is bonded with you. You activated the full coverage on that dial. Now you merely need to think what you want done and the armor will manifest the action.”
“So think forward and—”
Irons shot forward at a speed he was not wholly comfortable with outside of a spacefaring vessel. His legs kicked, instinctively, sending him into erratic maneuvers. It was becoming far too evident in his mind that even with all of his skills at space flight, navigating with only his arms and legs was going to prove difficult.
He worked to straighten his legs, getting them to rest side by side. He raised one arm to his side and the palm thruster burst, sending him into a sideways flip. He corrected it quickly by doing the same with the other hand before finally using both to steady himself. But the boots still had him moving in one direction. And it was away from his target.
“Stop,” he said and was reli
eved and surprised when the thrusters beneath him shut off. The inertia kept him moving but at least he knew how to make that stop when he wanted to.
“Captain, I shouldn’t have to remind you what will happen if Elit makes it to the planet,” Haddron said.
Irons let the attitude slide. There was no time to argue about who was boss.
“Right,” Irons said. “No better training than on the job.” He oriented himself to face the smaller, hijacked ship as its own thrusters ignited.
The HUD in his helmet showed velocity and vector rates. It reminded him of the Cyber Eye and all of its data readings. This display, though, only showed him objects of interest that might interfere with his flight. Irons tested out the turning ability on the suit. He was pleased to find out that it wouldn’t allow him to turn in ways that could prove harmful to himself. The suit took measures to actually protect its wearer.
The scout ship ahead of him burst forward on a direct heading to Erra. A long way to go. Irons noticed the lens on top of it and hoped that Elit didn’t figure out he could just teleport there.
The battle armor carried the Captain within yards of the ship. It was close enough to make Irons feel like he could actually catch up with it well before the thieving Nordic would give them away. A red outline appeared in the HUD, just in front of the ship. The thrusters stopped on their own as the ship pulled up. That’s when Irons noticed the large meteor in his path. With no exterior lights in the darkness of space, he needed the HUD to scan for obstacles. He reoriented himself ninety degrees and fired off the thrusters before smashing into the space rock. He had no interest in finding out if the Gevecht Bepantsering would keep his bones from shattering on the rocky debris.
Clearing the meteor, Irons noticed the ship speeding ahead just above the surface of the large rock. The Captain only thought about going faster and the armor complied, rocketing him after the ship.
Irons veered to the left, avoiding the thrust jets of Elit’s vessel. He pushed the suit faster to pull up alongside Elit. The Nordic glanced out the cockpit window and did a double take in shock to see the human flying alongside him.
ROYAL LINE (War In The Void Book 3) Page 6