Royce (Heroes of the League Book 4)

by Frank Carey

  "The perp sir."

  I had a crazy idea which might work, or it might not. "Parker, is that model yacht equipped with self-sealing cockpit windows and is there any way to get a message to Ms. Rosta without the perp seeing it?"

  "Working... Yes, to both, sir. Ms. Rosta has a hearing aid due to hearing loss at a young age. I can transmit through that."

  "Link us, please."

  "Working... Go, sir."

  "Ms. Rosta, this is Pilot Royce Aymar of the Cube. I am going to neutralize your friend, but you have to get the hell out of here the moment he's out. Blip your FTL enough to clear the range. If you understand me, fire your left thrusters."

  I watched and the left thruster quad puffed gas.

  "What is your plan, sir?"

  "This," I said as I spun the ship around one hundred eighty degrees and went to full reverse military thrust. The Alanis shot underneath the Sea Banshee. When my nose probe just cleared the Banshee's nose cone, I popped up in front of her and fired a single shot through the cockpit window, killing the perp instantly. I rolled right just as the Banshee jumped to FTL.

  "Time to split, Parker," I yelled as I reached for the FTL control. My hand never made it.

  The universe winked out.

  ###

  Reality returned filled with howls and screams as every system in the ship failed. One alarm in particular needed immediate attention—the FTL Master Alarm. Instantly, I reached down next to my seat and pulled a red-painted lever with all my might. There was a severe lurch as the FTL drive unit disconnected from the ship and shot away, driven by twelve powerful solid-fuel rocket motors. A second later, the drive exploded like a miniature sun.

  "Parker, you still with me?"

  "Yes, sir. The ship is severely damaged, sir."

  "How bad is it?"

  "We really need to go, sir."

  I looked out the window and saw we were near a planet, too near. "Parker, where are we?"

  "I don't know, sir. The last star-fix I took made no sense."

  "Malfunction?"

  "No, sir. I don't recognize any of the stars."

  That was not good. Parker had star positions for the entire Realm, which meant we weren't in the Realm. An explosion rocked the ship. I reached between my legs and grabbed a yellow and black loop of rope which stuck out of the floor. I pulled hard as the restraints pulled me into the back of the ejection seat.

  The ceiling panel blew off revealing sky as the seat's rocket motor ignited, sending the two of us straight up and out of the cockpit. A half-second later, just as my drogue chute deployed, the Alanis exploded. Damn, I really liked that ship. I passed out when the shock wave hit like the hand of God.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Gloria woke to the sound of sirens and her commlink bleeping. "Computer, I get it, so kill the alarms!" she yelled as she grabbed the commlink. Flipping it open she barked, "What!"

  "My, aren't we grumpy this morning." Ciara said. "Should I call back after you've had coffee?"

  "God no, Director. Sorry, it's been a tough morning," Gloria said, getting dressed while holding the commlink in her hand. "What's going on with all the sirens?"

  "We have a situation out at Test Range 115. I don't know all the details. Would you care to join me in Master Control?"

  Test range! Royce works at the test ranges! Gloria thought as she almost dropped the commlink. "Yes, ma'am, I'll be right up," Gloria said as she killed the connection. She dropped the commlink on the table and finished dressing in record time. When she finished, she ran out of the bedroom and checked herself in the hallway mirror. Shoes, leggings, skirt, corset, belt. Yeah, all set, she thought as she ran out the door only to return a moment later to get her commlink. Okay, now I'm set, she thought as she ran out once more.

  ###

  Gloria met Dir. Devlin at the elevator, and the two headed up to the control room together. On the way up, Ciara looked at Gloria and frowned. "What's going on with you?" Ciara asked as she watched Gloria's normally calm tail swish around like an angry snake.

  "Me? Nothing. I'm fine," Gloria replied.

  "You sure?"

  "Yes, ma'am," Gloria insisted.

  The elevator door opened onto chaos. "Report!" Ciara yelled, quieting everyone.

  "Ma'am," the watch commander said, "the new drive system being tested at TR115 has malfunctioned. A patrol ship—the Alanis under the command of Pilot Royce Aymar—was responding to an incursion inside the test range. A yacht owned by Ms. Milona Rosta has been hijacked by a member of the Sacred Space Group. The yacht is heading directly to the test bed and the ship’s FTL has spun up."

  "Blasted fanatics," Ciara said as Gloria stopped in mid-step and stared in disbelief at the holodisplay. "Why is our pilot still in there?"

  "Ma'am, not to sound cliché, but Royce s trying to save the girl," the watch commander said while shaking his head.

  "Close zoom on the two ships," Ciara ordered.

  The Watch Commander pressed a switch, and an image of the two ships filled the display. A moment later, Alanis spun around and went full reverse, traveling the length of the Sea Banshee in less than a second. When it cleared the Sea Banshee's nose, the Alanis popped up and fired a single shot at the Banshee's cockpit. Immediately, the Alanis rolled out of the way as the Sea Banshee jumped to FTL.

  "My God, I think Aymar shot the damn perp!" Ciara whispered as the display went blazing white.

  "Royce!" Gloria screamed as she collapsed.

  "Medic to Master Control," Ciara yelled as she caught Gloria and gently lowered her to the floor. "What happened?"

  Techs scrambled to find an answer and clear the screen. There was a flicker and then the image solidified to that of what could only be described as a hole in space where the test stand once floated. They could see a planet and a distant star through the hole.

  "What the hell are we looking at?" Ciara demanded as the medics ran in to attend to Gloria.

  "A moment, Director," the watch commander said as he checked readouts. "This is impossible..."

  "Spit it out, Rodney!" Ciara barked.

  "Using the positions of the stars we can see and spectral analysis of that sun, we are looking at a solar system located in the Large Magellanic Cloud, over sixteen hundred light-centuries from here.”

  "That's impossible," Ciara said.

  "That's what I was taught in grad school, but there it is," Rodney said.

  "Is it stable?"

  "I honestly don't know. I’ve piped the data to Science and Engineering. We'll know more in a few hours."

  "We might not have even an hour, dammit. Send in a ship..."

  "It's too dangerous. We could collapse the opening, or cause the destruction of the universe. We need more information."

  "I have a pilot over there. He might be hurt, dammit."

  "Or dead, but that doesn't matter, Ciara. The pilot knew the risks and saved a life with no regards to his own safety. Don't waste that by rushing into this. Give us a few hours, please."

  She patted him on his chest. "You're right, sorry. While you're at it, find Ms. Rosta and have her brought to Sickbay."

  "Got it, Director," Rodney said before he turned and issued orders.

  Ciara turned back to Gloria and saw the medics had gotten her on a gurney but were having a hard time keeping her there. "Get me off this thing, dammit. Director, tell them I'm fine!"

  "You just fell to the floor, so you're not fine. These members of the Cube's elite medical corps will take you to Sickbay where you will be checked out, so lay down, shut up, and get the hell out of here," Ciara said. When Gloria tried to argue, the director put her index finger to her lips and said, "Shhhh! Go!"

  Once Gloria was out of the room, Ciara turned to Rodney. "It's probably best I let you work, so I'll be in sick bay. Call me if you find something.”

  "Yes, Director. I hope Gloria is okay."

  "Me to," she said before turning to the door and walking out, leaving Rodney and his people to find the answers they
so desperately needed.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  I’m lying on something hard.

  Warm air is brushing against my body.

  My left arm is asleep. I hate when that happens.

  Okay, that's it. I'm officially awake.

  I open my eyes, and the first thing I see are shadows dancing on a rather ornate beam ceiling covered with little paintings. Wait a minute, those are paintings of Elves. Where the hell am I?

  I sit up, and the first thing I notice is I am naked. This is quickly followed by I'm not in human form anymore. I hope I didn't scare anyone. I look around and see I'm in a typical castle-type room with mounted heads and tapestries on the walls, slate floor with furs thrown about and overstuffed furniture. A huge fireplace inset in one wall was supplying warmth. But whose castle is it?

  "Parker, you with me?" I asked, worried that someone gave her to a kid to use to draw with. Don't laugh! It happened back before Tennosh blew up.

  "Over here, sir, by the fireplace," she answered. I look and see a table with my clothes neatly folded and stacked on top of it. I pad over and get dressed.

  "How long have I been out?" I usually have a very precise time sense, but not today.

  "Only a couple of hours, sir."

  "How did I get here?" I can't imagine I parachuted into this room, got undressed, and arranged for my clothes to be cleaned and pressed before passing out on a table.

  "We landed several miles from here after we parted ways with the ejection seat. You were knocked out, and I was administering first aid, when a group of warriors arrived. They brought you here and attended to your wounds. Sir, they're elves, but not from Gweyr."

  "Impossible, all the other realms went off the grid thousands of years ago. Gweyr is the only one left.”

  "Not impossible, young prince. The stories of our demise have been greatly exaggerated."

  I turned and beheld a beautiful elf woman, approximately my age, with long golden red hair. She was wearing a modest dress, but her upper arm development belied a warrior's training. She wore a simple tiara. No, make that a crown. It was knee time.

  "My queen! Prince Royce Aymar of the Realm of Gweyr at your service," I said as I knelt and bowed my head. As elf realms go, Gweyr may be the last remaining one, but historically it was pretty low on the elf realm totem pole.

  "Rise, young prince. I am Aiella, Queen of Realm Ralanor. Welcome to my humble home," she said with a small bow.

  Ralanor! Ralanor was the very top of the realm hierarchy. Advanced beyond belief, they ruled all the other realms. But where was their government center? Come on, brain, try to remember those history classes I mostly slept through... The Large Magellanic Cloud on the side nearest the Milky Way. A planet called... Ventos Prime. I realized, just then, how far from home I was.

  I fired up the SAC. Best not to tip my hand just yet. "Parker, any sign of technology?"

  "Except for a large shielded structure about twenty clicks from here, I detect no factories, no advanced power distribution systems, no large cities, only farms and small villages. I am picking up some unidentified low-power signatures from below ground level."

  Really not good. I need either technology, or magic to get home, and I stopped believing in magic when I was five years old. "My queen, what happened? Ralanor was the center of the elven universe. Ships from here spanned three galaxies. Now, this castle and a few villages are all that remain."

  The queen beckoned me to sit by the fire while a servant brought tankards of hot tea. "Millennium ago, during the dark times, the other realms rebelled against Ralanor in defiance of King Sarchwon the Destroyer. I assume you never heard of this?"

  "Frankly, no. I heard the Dark Times were due to an alien plague brought back on a survey ship. Borders got sealed too late, and the populations of all the realms were decimated. That's when communication between them ended."

  "Being one of the low-tier realms actually helped Gweyr by keeping it out of the fray, while the top-tier realms turned on Ralanor in revolt," the queen said as she steepled her fingertips like Gloria did when she was nervous or uncomfortable. I swear that behavior must be genetically encoded.

  "My queen, how is it Ralanor survived?"

  "It didn't. When the king and his court were killed in a raid, a group of scientists and engineers pulled together the survivors and placed most in stasis chambers buried deep below the ground with the hope that someday they could be revived. A few survivors remained above ground to await the return of the sleepers. I am the last remaining heir to the throne."

  What the hell? Then where's the technology? It can't have all been lost. Before I could ask, she told me. I swear our females can read minds.

  "Thinking Ralanor finished, the other realms turned on each other, destroying one another in an orgy of slaughter. Shortly after we finished internment, a rogue computer virus, possibly from one of the other realms, took over the system. This virus has prevented the survivors from activating the revival circuits for thousands of years. We've been unable to get past its defenses..." She stopped and looked at me. I have seen that look before from a certain Storen Senior Pilot.

  "My Queen?"

  "The revival sequence is activated by simply placing a red program crystal on top a pylon. Once in place, the program will bypass the virus's control and begin revival. Once activated, the sequence cannot be stopped."

  If only it was that easy. It's never that easy. I leaned back in my chair. "My queen, what is it you require of me? Ask and it will be done."

  "Many others have tried..."

  "And failed?"

  "And died."

  Why can't it be they tried and got a parking ticket, or they tried and got sent to bed without dinner? "My queen, I'm not everyone else."

  "Twenty kilometers from here is the primary control complex. The pylon I speak of is there in the Central Building. The crystal is located nearby. The danger lies in the journey. The virus controls the environment around the pylon. It will use any and all means to prevent you from putting the crystal on the pylon."

  I pulled my blaster from its holster and checked its charge status: it was full.

  "Royce, there is an energy dampening field in effect. Your blaster will not function once you're inside the area," the queen said.

  I swear I am going to invent something to replace blasters and make a zillion credits in the process. Half the species in the League are unaffected by them and the other half have ways of making them inoperative. I might as well be carrying a marshmallow gun. "Mistress, you wouldn't happen to have a weapon or two I could borrow?"

  "You're going to go?" she asked, incredulous, yet relieved.

  "I will if you answer a single question," I said as I was about to club the elephant in the room.

  "Ask it," she said amazed at either my audacity or my foolishness.

  "Are you, or the people you’re planning to revive, a threat to the Realm of Gweyr?" I had to ask. Considering the past, I had to know. I am or was the prince of Gweyr, Heir Apparent to the Throne, yada, yada, yada. My purpose in life is to protect every elf from the king down to the woman serving tea on the street corner. I take this role very seriously which is why I agreed to leave the Realm to hide out in the League. No one was going to use me to get at the king of Gweyr...ever.

  The queen looked at me and smiled, as if I had passed some kind of test. "Aye, you are truly a Prince of Gweyr. I swear on the Crown that we are not a threat to your Realm. On this you have my word."

  Something inside me believed her without reservation. Now, Gloria could read a person like a book, but I never had to test my ability in a situation like this—no one has, me thinks. "Sir, she is telling the truth," Parker added, which was like frosting on the cake.

  "Then I'm in. I need weapons, though."

  "Bless you," she said as grasped my hand and kissed my cheek before signaling her servants. Moments later a guard entered carrying several bundles which he laid out on the table. The queen and I walked over while the g
uard moved off to stand in a corner. I saw three weapons laid out: a longbow and quiver of arrows with various points, a sturdy knife, and a sword.

  I picked up the sword and whistled. This wasn't a decorative sword, nor was it ceremonial. This was a true weapon, hand-made of what the humans call Damascus steel. The blade was clean, straight, and razor sharp. I held it out and found the balance to be spot on. I checked the grip, and it was tight and comfortable. My father would cry if he saw this beauty.

  I replaced the sword in its scabbard and turned my attention to the bow. I picked it up and held it, while pulling the bowstring back—it felt like a hundred-pound pull. The bow was perfectly curved and well cared-for, while the bowstring was in excellent condition. I checked the arrows, and they were laser straight with their heads sharp and tight.

  I picked-up the knife. Its blade was sharp, clean, and sturdy, while its hilt was comfortable in the hand. Like the sword, its balance was perfect.

  "My queen, thank you for these fine weapons. They are incredible."

  "I wish I could give you more. My chef has prepared a pack of food and water for you and our groom has prepared a mount for you. I and several of my guards will accompany you to the entrance."

  Cool. I was hungry. "Thank you, mistress. I should be leaving," I said as I put the scabbard on diagonally across my back, followed by the quiver and the bow. Finally, I belted on the knife over my flight suit.

  The queen led me outside where our guards and mounts were waiting. I stopped when I saw what I was to be riding. It looked like a cross between a dragon, a horse, and a rhinoceros. It was seven feet at the withers, at least a ton and a quarter in weight, and had, what looked like, armor plating fore and aft. All it needed was a canon, and it would be a tank. Oh, did I forget to mention the foot-long tusks?

  "They are called lorses," the queen said as she pointed to my mount with a bemused look on her face. "Her name is Dreya."

  Dreya was elf for "Gentle Soul." Lord, I hoped so. I think Dreya could use me as a snack.

  "They’ll live off the land and return here if left unattended," the queen informed me as I scratched Dreya behind the ear. She twisted her massive head around and started to what could only be described as purr. That's when I saw the three-toed feet, each toe tipped with a long and sharp claw. I think she could dig through a bank vault wall.