Shadows Bear No Names (The Blackened Prophecy Book 1)

by Oganalp Canatan

  “These people feel safe here?” Ga’an looked around them. Two women covered in dirt were fighting over what seemed like a piece of spoiled food on one of the platforms the elevator passed. A considerable crowd watched and cheered the fight.

  “No, but they don’t have much choice,” Sarah answered. “No one wants to be in the underbelly but they can’t leave. These people are poor Ga’an. They have nowhere to go. You don’t have to live here long to see that.”

  “The Empire wouldn’t allow for such abominations.”

  “Yeah? How did your Empire deal with it?”

  “Execution by decapitation of those who disregarded the settlement rules.”

  “Gross.”

  They rode the elevator up to the garage behind Joe’s. Parked there were at least a dozen bikes like the one Sarah had used, all made of collected scrap.

  “Joe has a scavenger team that he sends into the desert to collect stuff for him,” Sarah said.

  “What is it the sand holds?”

  “Well, I’m a newbie, so they’re not taking me on deep hunts,” Sarah said, locking the bike to one of the stations and connecting the fuel line. “Word is, there are abandoned military installations out there.”

  “I see.”

  “They say there are trackers who wander in the mist and sell locations of loot points to Joe. I heard they’re immune to the fog’s effects.” Sarah shrugged. “Anyway, come on, you need to meet with Joe.”

  “I do?”

  “Those guards probably told Joe about you already. They know I left alone today.”

  “I see. Then I will meet with this Joe.”

  ***

  A few lights brightened the bar but the poky hall was gloomy at best, smoke from the tables creating the Hole’s own fog. Some men in dirty boiler suits were playing a card game in the back, making equally dirty jokes about the serving girl’s bosom and grabbing at her while she served their round. Off-key music filled the background from an ancient radio scrapped from some shuttle.

  The noise in the room died as Ga’an and Sarah entered the bar and every face turned toward them. The only sound was some ancient tune Sarah couldn’t remember the name of, cherishing two youngsters’ “summer love.” Sarah had gotten used to the harassment already. When she’d first arrived, one of the patrons had pinched her ass. She’d broken the man’s arm in one swift move, pulled his own gun from under his shirt and made him beg her not to shoot. After the incident, they mostly left her alone. Mostly.

  However, the eyes were on Ga’an now.

  They moved toward the bar slowly, whispers following them as they passed each table, comments about Ga’an’s height and weird clothes. Sarah cursed under her breath for not thinking of digging him up some pants instead of his weird uniform. It didn’t resemble any organization operated around these parts.

  One of the goons pointed to Ga’an and said something inaudible. A stupid-looking one laughed out loud, standing up from his table and walked toward them.

  “It’s Jake. No brains, all muscles,” Sarah whispered.

  “I don’t layke you, stranger,” the grunt said in a drunken voice, blocking Ga’an’s path. The man was almost as tall as Ga’an.

  “I am not used to your oral communication, but I believe you said it wrong.”

  Ga’an, don’t judge him by his speech, he’s a walking tank! Sarah knew what the monster was capable of. More than once, she had witnessed Jake carrying out Joe’s dirty work in this last two weeks. Ga’an seemed uninterested though; if his story was half-true, he was a battle-hardened veteran with over a hundred years of experience.

  “I said, I don’t like you,” Jake repeated, pushing Ga’an.

  “Jake, he is a visitor,” Sarah tried to intervene, “this is not necessary.”

  “Shut up, bird!” he slapped Sarah, “I call your name when I need you!” The power of the blow threw her back. She landed hard on a nearby table, scattering the drinks of two ugly men.

  Ga’an rushed to her and gently pulled Sarah back on her feet, then turned his stare on the thug, his eyes death itself. Oh boy, here it starts. “Boys, no need to start on the wrong foot.”

  “What now? You—”

  Before Jake could finish his words, Ga’an punched his throat. Jake hadn’t even risen a hand before a thundering second blow hit his right eye. Ga’an moved with lightning reflexes, jumping on a table and turning to kick Jake’s face. As his foot met with the goon’s jaw, Sarah heard the satisfying sound of cracking bone. I thought your leg was injured.

  Jake howled painfully and fell on his knees under the power of Ga’an’s strike. The towering visitor grabbed the thug by the neck when a snake-like voice stopped him.

  “That’s enough.” A limping man walked slowly toward Ga’an, his crane creating the only sound in the now-frozen room. “I believe he learnt his lesson, Mister…?” He extended his hand.

  Before Ga’an could answer, Sarah jumped in, “Gary. His name’s Gary.”

  The limping man looked at Sarah sardonically but let her play slip by.

  Ga’an looked at the man’s hand, not understanding the gesture. “I am”—he gave a quick glance at Sarah—“Gary.”

  “So, Mister Gary, what brought you to our humble town?”

  “I found him in the mist, several clicks west of the crash site,” Sarah intervened, hoping Ga’an wouldn’t reveal any more than necessary. If she’d learnt one thing in Tarra, it was that Joe pried out anything you hid and took it if he wished.

  The limping man smiled wryly. “Another survivor? Third time this month.”

  “Third?” Sarah couldn’t hide her surprise. “There had been another crash? And what happened to your face?” Sarah immediately regretted her question when Joe’s eyes narrowed.

  “We had some visitors while you were away, dear bird. Ah, but where are my manners? I’m Joe, the owner of this humble establishment.” The man let Sarah’s question slip but there would be a time of retribution. Joe didn’t like to be questioned. Especially about his failures. A swollen eye was a failure.

  Ga’an gave a curt, official nod.

  “Let’s have a drink and hear your story, Mr. Gary,” Joe said. “If you please put my man down. I think he’s educated enough.”

  Ga’an growled and let go, dropping Jake like a sack full of grain. Joe gestured to the men at Jake’s table to take the beaten thug away, then led the duo to the bar. Behind the bar he poured two drinks for two, sharply watching Ga’an take his seat.

  “Serrivan liqueur. Good stuff.” The limp smiled.

  “If you say so.”

  “Sarah, doll, I need you to do something for me,” Joe said, passing a glass to Ga’an and taking the other for himself. “There are two clowns in the back. Find out their business here while me and Gary have a chat.”

  “Why me?” Sarah asked suspiciously.

  “You have the skills and the shapes, doll,” he said, winking at Sarah’s breasts with his healthy eye. “And I asked you to.”

  Separating us. Sarah rolled her eyes, realizing it would look more suspicious if she insisted on staying. And he would probably toss me off the rails. She shrugged acceptingly and headed for the back rooms.

  ***

  “You don’t like your drink?” Joe asked, pouring another for himself.

  “I do not know what this is,” Ga’an said, leaning forward to sniff the glass.

  Joe made a snarling sound at Ga’an’s move, which the praetor realized was laughter. “You’re an interesting one, Mister Gary.” Joe drank his own booze in one shot. “Helps to ease the pain.” He pointed at his swollen eye. “A work-related accident.” The man’s open eye had flickered at Mister Gary, and Ga’an didn’t have to be human to catch the meaning of that punctuation.

  “I am not from around.”

  “I can tell.” Joe nodded knowingly. “I’d love to hear your story.”

  “My ship crashed in the desert. I survived.”

  Joe looked at the tall man for a mom
ent, then licked his lips. “Of course you’re welcome here,” he finally said. “And I may have some work for you if you’re interested. The way you handled Jake was impressive.”

  “He did not know how to fight.”

  “He doesn’t know a lot of things, Gary.” Joe leaned closer. “But I do.”

  Ga’an tensed. They’d already attracted more attention than they wanted and if what the Sarah woman said was true, it would cause trouble to reveal his identity. He had to drop the cloth covering his face to drink whatever they were drinking. So far, the man hadn’t made any comments on his different visage from these humans.

  “I know when I see talent.” Joe smiled and reached for another drink. “I see you’re not the drinking type. Me, I can’t bear this rock without something down the drain. Injured or not.”

  Ga’an gave a sigh of relief. “I do not like to drink intoxicators.”

  “Intoxicators?” Joe laughed. “I like that! Heather!” He turned to face the serving maid. “Name one of the whiskeys the Intoxicator.” Joe turned back to Ga’an, not waiting for the serving girl’s response. “I need someone like you in my workforce.”

  Ga’an decided to play along and hope that Sarah would return soon. “Tell me more.”

  ***

  Sarah made her way to the holding cells. The back was darker than the main room and she stopped to allow her eyes to adjust.

  She waved to the guard at the door. “Joe sent me to check on the prisoners.” The man didn’t look up from his handheld computer, watching what seemed like holo-porn.

  Sarah moved past the guard, feeling his disgusting stare checking her backend, then came before the cell door.

  “Hey, you two!” Sarah grabbed a piece of broken brick from the floor and hit the bars.

  “What?” a voice answered from the shadows. It sounded disturbingly familiar.

  Sarah hesitated, “Who…” I know that voice, “Who are you?” She heard the man sigh, and then watched him stand up slowly. Grunting with each step, he walked toward her and into the light. The other man still slept.

  As the light shone on his face, Sarah’s hesitation turned into shock. “Ray?” He was dirty, his face covered with dried blood and at least ten days of old beard but no doubt, it was Raymond Harris. “Oh my God, is that you Ray? I thought you were dead!” She couldn’t help but weep.

  “Sarah?”

  “I thought you were dead!”

  Ray smiled tiredly, “I certainly had my moments.” He reached for her hand. “Sarah…” Ray closed his eyes and allowed a silent laughter. “You’re a sight for sore eyes. How about you, are you all right?”

  Sarah leaned against one of the crates and tried to collect her thoughts. “I thought I was the only one, you idiot! Do you have any idea how scared I was?”

  Ray gave a bitter, weak smile.

  “I barely got to the pods,” she finally said. “I was injured, nothing serious. The communicators were down, so I assumed the worst.”

  “You assumed right,” Ray said, “things turned ugly on the bridge.”

  “You’ve heard anything about the others?”

  Ray lowered his stare in silence.

  “What happened boss? One minute I was writing a report, the next I found myself rushing to the pods.”

  Ray sighed. “When we started the landing sequence, something attacked us on the bridge. It killed Rahul, Alec and the others.”

  “What!” Sarah felt her lips drying. “Who attacked you?”

  “It looked like Dr. Sanders—”

  Sarah cut him off, protesting, “It can’t be, I last saw her in the hallway, talking to Rahul about fixing something in the med bay.”

  “I know,” Ray agreed sadly. “This thing looked like the doctor, it imitated her features.”

  Sarah looked at Ray, her mouth open. “I don’t understand…”

  Ray shook his head. “One minute, all was fine. The next, I was fighting for my life.”

  Sarah spoke again after a minute’s pause. “Well, we can’t do anything about it now, Boss,” she smiled weakly, licking her lips. She had come to terms with everyone else from the ship being dead. Seeing Ray alive was a huge relief, no matter how sad she felt about the rest. “Who’s the passenger?” She nodded at the old man sleeping.

  Ray gave a faint smile. “He’s a…different, old man.”

  “I heard that!” the old man protested, opening one of his eyes, springing to his feet. “Oh, everything is spinning.” He blinked. “I am not crazy; it is simply your ignorance!”

  “I didn’t say crazy.”

  “You meant it!” the old man looked at Sarah. “I do not think you are one of Joe’s thugs. I am Brother Cavil, young lady.”

  “Well, I’m not in the bullying business. I’m Sarah.”

  Brother Cavil raised his brows and gave a broad smile, “So, you are the Sarah we were looking for,” he said warmly, “Delightful! Raymond was worried about your fate.”

  “Oh, did he now?” Sarah said playfully. “I’m touched, Boss.”

  Ray frowned, “All right, cut it. Can you get us out of here?”

  “Maybe, I’m not sure. How did you end up in this cell anyway?”

  “Well, it is quite a—” Brother Cavil started but Ray interrupted him.

  “We can talk about each other’s story later. Now we need to get out of here.”

  “I have a new friend who might be able to help. Let me get him here, then we’ll see how to handle this.” Sarah prepared to leave. “I’ll be back as soon as possible. We don’t want to alert Joe. He’s not someone to be trifled with.”

  “Guessed so. Looks like he runs the show here.”

  “He does, Boss.”

  “We need to get back the Arinar as well, before that other man shows up, Raymond,” Brother Cavil added.

  “What other man? And what is that? Arinar?” Sarah asked.

  “Well, you see, we had—” the old man started but Ray cut him off again.

  “It’s a long story, Sarah,” he said. “We’re carrying something important that may be related to Canaar’s crash. And we have some bad company behind us.”

  “Well, it seems like you didn’t waste any time blending in,” she said sarcastically. Oh, how much she’d missed the everyday banter on board the ship. It felt like eons ago.

  “Sarah, we have an Agent trying to kill us,” Ray’s voice was dead serious, cutting her nostalgia short.

  “An Agent? As in an Agent?”

  “He already tried to kill us twice. You know what they say about the third time.”

  “Hmm…”

  “What’s it, Sarah?”

  She raised her head and looked past Ray. “It’s just…I remember seeing some irregularities on the cargo manifest when we left Earth.” A bitter timbre came into her voice. “It looked like a glitch or an innocent mistake—I never thought of someone—or something—sneaking on board. I should’ve checked it better. I was the damn security officer!”

  “Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

  “No, Boss. It was this one crate we were supposed to drop on our way back from Bunari, at that little outpost Wilkins Port.”

  “Someone’s package from home perhaps.”

  “No, it wasn’t like any ordinary crate. It had all sorts of electronic controls on the box. Like the ones on the medical pods they use. I should’ve scanned for life signs. Something alive was inside it!”

  “The paperwork for our cargo was genuine and by the book. You couldn’t have known, Sarah. There was no reason to be on alert. We just carry the goods they order us to do so.”

  “Rahul said he heard growling! Don’t you remember?”

  “Whatever it was, we have to focus on the now. It only answers the how, but not the why.”

  Sarah gave a weak smile, but nodded firmly. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, hold tight.”

  “Be safe.”

  “Don’t you worry. I have no intention of getting separated again.”

  *
**

  She found Ga’an where she’d left him, sitting at the bar. Joe was nowhere to be seen and the bar was back to its normal, repulsive atmosphere; thugs drinking and making jokes about the serving girl’s bosom, dirty-looking men in coveralls toasting and singing some tune, the bartender showing his homemade tattoos to a regular from one of the lower caves.

  Sarah shrugged; it was no different than any other border town. It had been very short, but as a girl born on one of the edge worlds as a miner’s daughter, she was used to grungy watering holes within the slums and she’d adapted quickly. Three days after they recovered her pod from the desert, she’d talked her way into a job. First, Joe had wanted to have her as a serving maid as the old man, Lucas had suggested, but when she had shown her talent as a fighter by cracking two of his goons’ skulls, thanks to her close combat training, he agreed to take her as a scavenger. Not that he would ever let me leave this piss-hole. That wouldn’t be the case for Ga’an. She needed to get him—and Ray, and the old man, Cavil—out of here.

  “Ga’an,” she hissed, waving the tall man over.

  Ga’an stood and did as asked. There was something royal in his movements; admirable and yet intimidating. Like a feral cat.

  “This Joe talks too much,” he said.

  “Yeah, tell me about it.”

  “He wants me to work for him. Make collections.”

  “I’m not surprised. Joe never gets his own hands dirty and you really put on a show.” She looked around to make sure no one was listening, then lowered her voice to a whisper anyway. “Things got interesting back there.”

  “How?”

  “Told you I was in a crash,” Sarah explained. “Well, Joe found another survivor from my ship, he’s locked up in the back.”

  “What will you do?”

  “What we’ll do is”—she gave Ga’an a sharp look—“We’ll try to break them out tonight and steal one of the smuggler ships at the port.”

  “Yes.”

  “God, you are a man of few words.” Sarah looked at Ga’an, astonished. She’d expected protest or at least some level of curiosity about the plan, not a simple yes from someone she’d met a few hours ago.