by Jonah Wilson
Mykal Orion
and the Station of Thieves
Jonah David Wilson
Copyright © 2017 by Jonah David Wilson. All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced mechanically, electronically, or by any other means, including photocopying without written permission of the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission from the publisher.
Note: This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.
Limits of Liability and Disclaimer of Warranty
The author and publisher shall not be liable for your misuse of this material.
Disclaimer
The views expressed are those of the author and the characters and do not reflect the official policy or position of the publisher.
Copyright Use and Public Information.
Unless otherwise noted, images have been used with public information laws.
To Dad,
thanks for always encouraging me
to write down the stories I told.
Table of Contents
Foreword
Cast of characters.
Chapter I Ralon’s Inn
Chapter II Meeting Strangers
Chapter III Under the Stars
Chapter IV In the Walls
Chapter V Nuri
Chapter VI Not Again.
Chapter VII Hidden Treasure.
Chapter VIII Rumble in the Station.
Chapter IX Heart of the Matter
Chapter X We went through that for what?
Epilogue
Ralon’s Glossary
Acknowledgements
Foreword
I have always loved stories. They have captured my attention and allowed me to visit places that could be next-door or worlds away. Stories can even give light to different perspectives. Some indulge our desires, while others can briefly satisfy a hunger for justice in us. A story can brighten a day, or just make it worse. For good or ill, stories are a part of human culture.
Writers like Tolkien, C.S. Lewis, and others have been a joy to read. Often providing the opportunity to learn lessons or truths applicable to the real world. While I also enjoy something that I can just be entertained by, it is in this first group that I hope my work falls. So, if you’re willing, let’s go on adventure.
Cast of characters.
Mykal Orion (Human pilot)
Ralon (Zervion innkeeper)
Dr. Emil Larso (Human scientist from Arith)
??? (Anthonion traveling with Dr. Larso)
Nuri (Dragof member of Spec Ops)
Rebekka (Human commander of Spec Ops)
Andrei (Human member of Spec Ops)
Tavon (Jorf member of Spec Ops)
Iceil (Bliz member of Spec Ops)
Avyiel (Zervion member of Spec Ops)
Mardlen (Bogmoor Crime Lord)
Chapter I
Ralon’s Inn
Mykal Orion twisted left, his foe’s punch narrowly missing. The Bogmoor shouted, throwing obscenities into the air. Mykal ducked and lashed out with a strike to his opponent’s side. He recoiled his hand as it cracked against the Bogmoor’s skin.
Mykal cradled his arm and tried to dodge the next attack. But he was too slow. The blow knocked him off his feet, sending him sprawling in the dirt. His eye stung with pain.
The Bogmoor raised a blade over his green, wart covered head.
“I think I’ll start by taking out that tongue of yours.”
The crack of a bolter sounded, and the Bogmoor lost the knife as he gripped his hand. Ralon holstered her side bolter, and glared at the Bogmoor.
“There will not be any blood spilled around this establishment, even if he does deserve it.”
The Bogmoor looked like he would lunge for the innkeeper, but then scurried away. Ralon watched him leave, and then moved to help Mykal up.
The Zervion sighed as she grasped his good hand. “Orion, how many times have I told you not to insinuate insults towards a Bogmoor’s parentage?”
“Apparently not enough.”
Mykal chuckled, but Ralon didn’t stop frowning as she led him back inside her inn. She went behind the counter of the serving area and poured a drink into a mug.
She handed it to Mykal. “Drink this, it will help.”
Mykal took a sip and almost spat the bitter tea across the room. “I thought you said it would help! That stuff’s horrid.”
“That stuff is Tarinth Root tea. It’s said to improve memory.” They both let out a hearty laugh. “And this should help with the eye.” She tossed a cold pack to him.
“Thanks.” He said as he secured it to his eye. “I hope you didn’t stock up on that tea.”
“I have a small stock, because you never know when you might be entertaining a Dragof.” She said with her authoritative tone.
“Don’t the Dragofs eat people?”
She pointed at the mostly full mug. “You should definitely drink more of that, because I know I taught you better than to believe everything you hear. Besides Tarinth Root tea is what everyone gives Dragofs.”
“Maybe they eat people because they keep giving them that tea.”
Ralon smirked briefly, but then looked at Mykal with a tear in her eye. “So you’re off.”
“Yep, today’s the day.”
“I still remember that little redheaded boy I found so long ago. There was a point in my life where I would have left you there in the ruins of your colony, but I couldn’t.” She took his hand, appearing like she might break down at any moment.
“But you had ‘gotten’ religion, so you didn’t.”
She slightly stiffened and then relaxed. “No. I was a long way from having ‘religion.’ In fact, it took many years after that moment to see what had been in front of me the whole time.”
“And what was that?”
“That there was hope for me. Even after all that I had done, I could turn around. That I was loved and treasured. I wish you would be open to understanding that.”
“Maybe I don’t want to be tied down.”
“Tied down? Mykal, for the first time in my life, I was truly free.” Ralon gestured around her at her newly completed inn. “I have no more need to hide, no more need to run. It’s like the start of a new life.”
“Well, I’m going to start a new life, too. Just me, my ship, and open space.”
The purple skinned woman stared at him. “You still need to buy a ship.”
“I will, I will. Trust me, have you ever known me to fail to pull off the extraordinary?”
She rolled her eyes and replied. “There was that time you tried to fly on a musk bat.
“First of all, I actually did fly for a little bit. Secondly, how was I supposed to know that their musk can cover a whole field of pirates?”
They burst into a round of laughter. His mentor and guardian since he was five became solemn once again. “I’m going to miss you, Mykal.”
“I’ll miss you too.” Mykal said as he hugged her, being careful not to squish her wiblua that hung down from her head.
Ralon pulled away and patted his shoulders. “So, last check. Travel bags?”
Mykal motioned to the two bags on the floor. “Check.”
Ralon made him recheck all his provisions. “Okay, helmet?
“Check.”
&n
bsp; “Bolter?”
Mykal patted the weapon mag-locked to his thigh. “Check.”
“Rapier?”
“Yes, I have everything.” Mykal took out the small cylinder to show her, before mag-locking it to the small of his back.
“Of course, you do. Good bye, Orion.” Ralon said.
“Good bye, Ralon. And you take care of your crew, got it?” Mykal said as he headed out the door.
“You know I always do,” he heard softly as he went out the doors.
Chapter II
Meeting Strangers
Mykal arrived at the transport with a few minutes to spare. It wasn’t the finest ship there was, but it was above ‘might not make it’, so he wasn’t going to complain.
“Tickets, please. Tickets, please.”
A green Zervion stood at a counter on the docking platform. Mykal let him scan his ticket and continued onto the ship. Yep, definitely not the finest. His seat was worn and the lighting was low. Of course, the finest ships wouldn’t go to Tofar Station.
While the owners of said station had been trying to market it as safe and friendly, less savory types knew you could get away with practically anything. Especially, if you gave enough money to the right people.
Although Mykal didn’t consider himself that low, he could probably fit in and score enough to buy a ship in a few weeks and be on his way. But he would have to navigate the famed Station of Thieves first.
“Could you move over?”
Mykal turned to look at the man who had spoken to him. He was tall and thin, most likely from Arith. He must not have had much patience, because he changed his tone.
“Would you move over? I have delicate equipment with me and need the room.”
“Okay, sure.”
Mykal complied and moved into the seat closest to the wall. The other human sat down next to Mykal and set a black container on the aisle seat. Knowing the length of the trip. Mykal figured it wouldn’t hurt to be friendly, so he extended his hand.
“My name’s Mykal. What’s yours?”
The other man glared at him, but answered anyway. “Dr. Emil Larso.”
He turned away as if he wouldn’t stoop to have a conversation with someone like Mykal. Orion decided not to let him get away with it.
“So you‘re a doctor. Are you going to Tofar Station for medical research?”
Dr. Emil groaned and reaffixed his glare on Mykal, “No, and since you seem like you will not stop talking until you find out what I am doing, I’ll tell you. I am going to change the entire way the Accord of Worlds enforces peace. That is all you could hope to understand.” Satisfied, he turned away with a smug look on his face.
Mykal couldn’t hold back his smirk. “So, any kids?”
***
After a couple of hours, Mykal decided to give the scientist some reprieve and shut his eyes. He was enjoying a very vivid dream involving a nice four engine cruiser with a lovely navigator, when a voice came over the loudspeaker.
“On final vector to Tofar Station.” Mykal looked over and saw Dr. Larso pondering something.
“So, Doc, what are you thinking about now?”
The scientist shot another glare in his direction. “The fastest way to extricate myself from an annoyance.”
Mykal started. “Well…” the ship gave a small shudder as it docked.
Mykal had looked away for a moment, and when he looked back the doctor was already up and moving to the airlock. Mykal sighed and began to work his way to the airlock.
He was bumped forward, almost falling to the floor. Mykal shot a glare behind, but was taken back by what greeted him. Bulbous eyes blinked, antenna quivered, and mandibles chittered almost apologetically. Mykal turned around and kept on walking. Is that…?
After Mykal exited the docking corridor, he heard a shout.
“What took you so long!? I have work to do!”
Mykal couldn’t believe his ears. After the fact that Dr. Larso had made it abundantly clear that he wanted nothing to do with him, why would he have waited on Mykal? Orion turned to let him have it when he saw that the doctor had been waiting on the being that had bumped into him earlier.
There was no doubt, it was an Anthonion. Six spindly limbs connected to a greenish brown torso marked it as one of the more exotic sentient races. It was also lugging several bags and a large case around and with its long abdomen, it was a wonder that it had only bumped into him once.
“What do you have to say for yourself?” The lights flickered as the scientist berated the Anthonion. “Let’s just get to my rooms. Come.”
What are you up to, Doc? Mykal would keep an eye out for Larso. While his personality rubbed Mykal the wrong way, it wasn’t the only thing that bothered him. While the Accord had tried to keep it somewhat quiet, the Anthonion’s homeworld had been rendered uninhabitable and the species was believed to be extinct.
So what was a scientist from Arith doing with an Anthonion assistant? And what was going on with the lights? Mykal couldn’t dwell on those things now. He had to finish filling his ship fund and Tofar Station had just the place to start.
Chapter III
Under the Stars
Mykal checked his suit one last time. Everything was sealed and pressurized. His air purification system was running and the temperature was comfortable. Mykal reached down and activated the mag-locks on his boots. He then pressed the depressurize button and waited for the airlock’s atmosphere to drain.
When it finished, he pressed the open button and stepped out as the hatch opened. He looked out at the starry expanse in awe. As he began to walk to his destination, Mykal recalled what he knew about this place.
Tofar station was located in the orbit of a planet of mining colonies. So, it was in a prime place for major starships to unload goods to be separated and taken down to the individual colonies below. It was also far away from the major powers, and that made the governors of the station somewhat lax as to what they allowed.
While the sale of illicit goods couldn’t happen inside the station, the officials would look the other way when it was outside the station. And so Tofar Station’s famous Hull Market was formed. If you were looking for something, you could probably find it there. But if it would be a fair deal? Well, the station’s nickname was the Station of Thieves.
When Mykal reached the market, he began to take in the various items that he wouldn’t be able to find in the main market of the station. There were smuggled imports from various worlds, all very valuable. Most likely stolen advancements in technology, very nice but very dangerous, and many extremely powerful forms of armament. You could buy a side bolter or small blade at any market, but enough firepower to hunt a Hizelback? Firepower like that could only be found out here under the stars.
He went from stall to stall seeing what he could buy and sell quickly or if there was any grunt work to be done. Mykal managed to buy a few Resonance boosters and hooked them up to some old DECs. He added some scavenged receivers that only needed a cleaning, and was able to turn a decent profit. Even scoundrels loved their entertainment.
He was just getting paid for helping unload a shipment of smuggled herbs, when someone came up behind him.
“Mykal Orion?”
Mykal turned around to look at who had addressed him. He had to look up to try to get a glimpse of the stranger’s helmeted face. The helmet was too dark to see through on this side, probably flare shielded. The armor was black with a dark blue suit underneath. There was also a large bolter in a holster at the stranger’s side.
Mykal decided to see if he could talk his way out. “That’s me. And you are?”
“Your hunter.” The voice was gruff, so Mykal was leaning towards male. “Surrender now, and I won’t be rough.”
“How about…” Mykal shifted his foot. “No!”
He swung his foot at the leg of the table next to them, knocking the baskets of herbs onto his pursuer.
“Sorry!” Mykal said as he lightly tossed some of his pay b
ack to the owner of the table.
Mykal heard a growl as he continued on his run away from the hunter. Orion weaved left and right though the market, sometimes over tables and sometimes under them.
After reaching open space Mykal shot a glance back. The hunter was just coming into sight, and what was he doing? Great. A hunter with jet boots. Fun. The hunter was gaining on him. Mykal had to think. What could he do? How could he get out of this one? An idea formed in his mind. Not a plan, but an idea. A really good one, too. A bolt near his feet brought him back to his current task.
He risked a look at his foe. He had to time it just right. There. Mykal bent to his mag-lock boots and reversed their charge. He shot up like a dart and curled to switch them back this time aimed for the hunter. His boots struck the surprised hunter in his chest.
Mykal switched them again before the hunter regained enough of his senses to grab him. The hunter was blasted away from the station and Mykal switched his boots again as he rolled to a stop on the surface.
He looked back to see the hunter flailing his arms as he tried to gain control of his spin. Then as Mykal watched, a cable shot out of the hunter’s gauntlet and attached itself to the station! Mykal decided not to wait till the hunter was reoriented, and dove at the airlock.
Orion opened the hatch, leapt through and shut it. Mykal sat against the wall and hit the pressurization button. When it was complete, he took off his helmet and took in several deep breaths. Then there was a pounding on the hatch.
Mykal decided not to take the chance that the hunter would vent the airlock the hard way, and opened the door into the main station. Orion tried to keep a low profile and stowed his helmet.
He thought he was blending in well enough when he felt something rush past his ear. Orion looked in the direction it had gone. Mykal almost didn’t notice it, but then he saw it. A small dart sticking out of the floor.
Orion looked in the direction it had come from and saw a figure cloaked in silvery white on the upper deck. There it was, a movement imperceptible unless you were looking for it.