by Edward Brody
Mich nodded.
“What’s your name?”
“Mich Sandstone.”
“Mich Sandstone? You’re kidding me, right?”
Mich shook his head.
“My granddad told me stories about a guy named Mich Sandstone. Guy was his best friend back on E-17. Said he lost him right before The Cleanse.”
Mich pulled out his cell phone and powered it on. “The closest friend I ever had was a guy named Benny.” He navigated towards his pictures and then turned the screen towards Stryker.
Stryker swallowed and grabbed the phone out of Mich’s hand. “Well, holy shit. I never saw a picture of granddad in his youth, but that sure as shit is him.”
“Benny is your grandfather?”
“Was my grandfather. Passed away about 8 years ago. Was one of the last remaining survivors rescued from E-17.”
Now that it was a topic of discussion, Mich could see the resemblance in Stryker. He was more handsome and much more fit than Benny, but many of their facial features were the same.
“He married a nice girl after humans were relocated to Rashada. Worked in the factory for years until his hands got bad, or at least that’s what he said.” Stryker sighed, then snapped his lips and gave Mich another up and down look. “I suppose it would be kind of interesting to train my grandad’s old pal.”
“Not like you have anything better to do but play with women,” Walter said.
Stryker wrinkled his nose. “Don’t be mad because I took a different path. You only live once, and I’d like to go out knowing I had a good time.”
“Even while your brethren are suffering…”
“Yeah, whatever, Walt. Like your rebellion has done any good.”
Walter tightened his lips and didn’t say another word.
“I’ll give you a chance, but I can’t make any guarantees. I’ve never trained anyone before. That is… If you want to learn how to fight and turn that energy you’re channeling into a bit more than a spark.”
Mich considered his options, and none of them seemed any better than staying on Atlantos with someone who obviously had their act together and was the grandson of his best friend. “Alright, I’d like to learn.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“My Queen, with all due respect, I think you’re making an unreasonable decision,” Salil rationalized. “We should be sending specialized scouts out to look for the escaped prisoners and issue lookouts on planets where they may seek haven.”
“The humans are no longer a threat, Salil. Their base has been dispersed and all their weapons have been confiscated.” The Queen smiled and look definitely down the hall at the gathering of council members.
“The amount of weapons that they managed to smuggle is concerning,” Lady Hamm expressed. “They clearly were amassing arms in preparation for an attack. If we withdraw our troops and simply allow the prisoners to roam free, we’re inviting them to regroup and refortify.
“And its will take how long for them to refortify?” the Queen asked. “Years, I imagine.”
“They killed Misharishindaril,” Kontra blurted out, and the other council members began humming in agreement.
“My decision is final,” the Queen insisted. “We will pull all troops from Rashada, and there will be no wild goose chases to find Walter St. James. We’ll focus our efforts on securing the galaxy’s borders.”
“These security issues should be dealt with by the Council. It is unprecedented for the Queen to override the Council’s military initiatives during non-war times,” Salil insisted.
“Are there any other issues to discuss before you return to your council stations?” the Queen asked, clearly amused by the other’s irritation. After several moments of silence, she added, “Very well. Set fourth my commands.”
Tamor stood beside the Queen and eyed her suspiciously. Something didn’t quite seem right, but he wasn’t sure what he was sensing. Her charge was unusual, but she had previously issued the occupancy order, so continuing with her issue to withdraw was perhaps not as strange as it seemed.
When the Queen turned to head back to her personal quarters, Tamor began making sure the court was cleared. After all but a few remained, Salil approached Tamor and spoke with a quiet voice. “Tamor, you’re one of the Queen’s most trusted advisers. I’m certain you’ve noticed her unusual behavior.”
“She just lost a good friend of hers, and occupation of Rashada didn’t go exactly as planned. I can understand that she would be a little frazzled.”
“So you think that her decisions are wise?”
“It’s not my place to question the Queen. I am here only as support.”
Salil placed a light hand on Tamor’s back and nudged him into a dark corner away from prying eyes. “I’ve known the Queen just as long as you, Tamor, and while she is kind, she is not the type to back down to adversity, nor has she ever been so quick to meddle in Council affairs. You may be right that she’s ‘frazzled’ by her losses, but if you do indeed support your Queen, you will do well to stay conscious.”
Tamor glared down at Salil. “Your words are bordering treason, Salil. You would do well to remember your place on the Council. I would hate to lose another friend to the same fate as Kryle Yago.”
Salil slowly stiffened his shoulders and frowned. “Stay safe, Tamor,” he said and patted his friend on the shoulder. Then, he turned and walked away.
When all parties were clear, Tamor headed towards his room, but Salil’s words wore heavy on his mind. What if he was right, and there was more to the Queen’s suddenly relaxed policy? He made a swift turn down another hallway which led towards the Queen’s personal quarters.
If something was going on, he intended to find out.
Chapter Thirty
Mich’s feet went soaring towards the sky, and he landed on his back with a hard thump. Thankfully, the floor of Stryker’s training room was adequately padded for such a fall. Stryker placed his foot on Mich’s chest and pointed a hard, plastic training sword towards his face.
“That was better than last time,” Stryker said. “But you’re moves are too deliberate. I can read you from a mile away.”
Mich groaned as he pulled himself back to his feet and rubbed the sore spot on his back. “It’s impossible for me to hit you. It would be better if we just practiced tapping into my energy so I can catch up to your moves.”
Stryker laughed. “I’m not using any cute tricks right now– Just basic fighting experience. Learning how to maximize your power without knowing how to use it is like knowing how to fire a blaster without knowing how to aim.” Stryker tossed his practice sword aside. “Let’s try some hand-to-hand. Just try to land a hit on me… anything. And feel free to tap into your energy if you feel it’s going to help.”
Mich squared off to Stryker, but Stryker just kept his hands to his sides. First, he threw a jab at Stryker’s face, but his trainer simply stepped out of the way. A left hook was dodged just as easily, and when Mich kicked out fast, Stryker’s slight leap backwards was faster.
“Impossible…” Mich sighed.
“Keep trying,” Stryker countered.
Mich rushed towards Stryker even more ferociously, throwing a flurry of punches and kicks, but for every move that he made, Stryker had a move that dodged it with less effort. His frustration grew as he threw punch after punch after punch, and he found himself focusing more on his surroundings than Stryker himself.
Stryker’s home on Atlantos was huge, filled with expensive furnishings and decorations far beyond any niceties he had seen, comparable only to the Queen’s palace. It was plush and futuristic, and he even had a large gym-like area with several different stations to practice physical combat.
As Mich continued lunging into air, he began to feel more like he was dancing rather than fighting, being lead more and more by Stryker’s dodges than his own personal initiative. His moves began to feel fluid and effortless. Soon he felt a familiar tinge inside of him and could see the beginnings of
a flame before his eyes. Within moments, he molded the flame as quickly as he could and forced it towards his hands, afraid that he would lose whatever it was that was happening, and he lunged out with an incredibly powerful blow.
Stryker had to dodge the glowing hand more quickly that time, and Mich went flying several feet from the force of his own missed punch, sliding painfully across the mat and tearing a hole into its covering.
“See what I mean?” Stryker asked. He walked over to Mich's fallen body and extended a helping hand. “Fast and powerful means nothing when you have no direction.”
Mich pulled himself up with Stryker’s help. “How do you dodge my strikes so easily?”
“That’s easy. I just move away from where you’re about to strike.”
“So then how do I hit you?”
“Don’t aim for where I am but for where I’m going to be. You have to dance with your opponent but cause your opponent to step over his own toes. Now try again.”
Mich once again squared off against Stryker and lashed out with his fist and legs, his strikes being dodged with little effort. Mich studied each dodge, being lead around in fluid circles by his opponent like a perfect waltz. Again, he felt that familiar tinge swelling inside of him and was tempted to increase his power or speed up his delivery, but instead he put all of his effort in to determining where Stryker would go. And then he could see it; Stryker turned to the side, and his most vulnerable spot was clearly his left abdomen. His entire being told him to throw a left-handed hook directly at his liver or a right kick towards the groin, but instead he threw a quick right jab to the face.
Stryker did exactly as Mich expected and parried in the wrong direction, leaving his face in the direct path of Mich’s hand. Stryker’s eyes flashed, and before the blow landed, Mich found his arm in the firm grip of Stryker’s right hand, just inches away from his face.
“Good job,” Stryker said, his fingers glowing a bright blue hue, having to channel his own energy to stop to the attack. “Now you’re getting it.”
“But I didn’t even hit you.” Mich frowned.
“If you could hit me then I wouldn’t need to train you.”
The two men had been practicing for days, and Mich’s skill had markedly improved, but he still had much to learn. After working ‘til near exhaustion, the two men headed towards the living area to recuperate.
“How about we go find some ladies to let off some steam?” Stryker suggested. “Ever been with a neander? It’s an experience, I’ll tell you.”
Mich chuckled and wiped the sweat off his brow with a thick towel. “You’re just like Benny. Always have women on your mind. Although, I was a bit like that myself back then too.”
“Yeah? What was the old man like?”
“A good guy. Funny, positive. He was my best employee.”
“I remember him saying something about him working for you. Apparently, you were some big shot on E-17, right?”
“I was well-off. Had a successful business, more money than I knew what to do with, and a new lady every week. I was like you to a lesser degree.”
Stryker grabbed two cups from off of his counter and placed it under a water tap. “You know, if you sold that sword, you could go back to living that type of lifestyle.” He motioned his head towards the weapon rack on the wall, filled with multiple copper weapons along with Mich’s sword. After agreeing to stay in Stryker’s home, it was suggested he put it with the other valuables for safe-keeping.
“I’m still considering it, but I’m not sure if I want that anymore. The training, the adventure… It’s all shown me a side of life I never thought possible. Besides, I had a business to run back there. Here I would just have money.”
Stryker handed Mich a cup and raised his cup to his. “You’ve got friends also.”
Mich knocked his cup against Stryker’s and drank the refreshing liquid.
Friends.
Stryker was right. Walter, Tristyn, Scraggs, Earl, Stryker, and even the miholos all seemed like friends. Benny had been a close companion back on Earth, but these people were growing into some of the best friends he had ever had in his life. It was an incredible feeling.
His eyes panned to the weapon rack. “Why copper?” Mich asked. “I know it’s a rare metal, but why do Keepers have copper swords?”
“It can conduct a person’s life force better than any other metal. A copper sword by itself would be less than ideal, but when it has a Keeper’s energy flowing through it, it’s harder than the strongest steel and can slice through just about anything.”
Mich thought back to the strange battle between Tamor and the krawl and suddenly it all was starting to make sense. “You were a Keeper, right?”
“I’m still a Keeper by definition, although I may not act like one. Anyone who learns to harness the ability present in their dormant mind to a certain level is technically a Keeper.” Stryker leaned back against the wall and looked to be lost in thought. “Back before humans knew about other intelligent life, a group of individuals with said power bound together to stop an intergalactic war. Now it’s just expected that Keepers will come together again to protect the galaxy–if and when the time comes. A rather naïve thought, I think.”
“Naïve?”
“Some Keepers are good and some are bad. And then some just don’t give a fuck–like me.” Stryker grinned devilishly.
“Walter said you helped found the rebellion.”
Stryker nodded. “Yes, back then I was much like him and Snake. I thought humans were treated unfairly, and I was prepared to do anything in the name of freedom. But then I discovered how to channel my energy. ” He let out a loud sigh. “It wasn’t an easy decision when I left, but I realized that I wasn’t going to get anywhere by staying on Rashada. Even with my new power, the Queen is far too strong. I decided to just go out and try to do things for myself, forge a life worth living before I die.”
“And how did you get all this?” Mich motioned his hands towards the riches surrounding them. “The other humans I’ve met had virtually nothing.”
“I became a bounty hunter. Started by taking out lowly thieves and smugglers, but as I better learned to tap into my energy, I eventually took down a Keeper–a rather corrupt one who had been murdering people indiscriminately.” Stryker lifted up his shirt and pointed to a tattoo of salamander on his lower chest. “Got a reward and sold his sword. From there, I grew in power and just continued to multiply my wealth.”
“You’ve killed many Keepers?”
Stryker chuckled and shook his head. “So I guess no one’s told you about koridiam either?”
Mich twisted his face and threw Stryker a questioning glance.
“A koridiam tattoo is an almost unfair way for a Keeper to amplify his power. The ink helps you focus, basically pulls the energy right out of your body. But liquid koridiam is even more rare than copper, and someone who can tattoo it into a person’s body it is even more exceptional.”
“So you bought all your tattoos with your wealth?
“Well, the only other way to gain a koridiam tattoo is to extract it from a dead Keeper.” Stryker again lifted his shirt, revealing an array of beautiful designs. “Every tattoo I have was paid for in blood.”
Mich suddenly felt less comfortable around the newly-met human. “So where can I get a–”
The front door to Stryker’s home slid open, and the crew from Rashada stepped through, interrupting Mich mid-sentence.
“You two seem to be getting along well,” Walter said.
“He nearly hit me today. It was almost impressive,” Stryker joked.
“I wouldn’t mind a few rounds of sparring,” Earl muttered as he awed at Stryker’s weapon rack.
“Me too,” Tristyn agreed. “There’s nothing to do in this city that doesn’t cost over 100 credits.”
“Speaking of credits, we’re beginning to run low. The crew and I are thinking about heading out tonight to a planet where we can hold up for a while without wiping ourse
lves out.” Walter reached into his pocket to do an inventory, but noticed a slight rumble from a tiny device inside. He pulled out the metal cylinder and raised up his hands in a motion for the others to be quiet.
Walter slid the device on the countertop, and a hologram of Snake appeared. “Walter!” Snake bellowed. “My apologies for the long silent period. I’ve had to remain especially covert the past few days. I hope I haven’t caught you at a bad time.”
“I’m actually with a few rebels and a couple of friends at the moment.” Walter shifted the tabletop device so that Snake could see the others in the room.
Snake eyes creased. “It’s not usual that you answer with others around. And is that Stryker? What’s going on over there?”
“They know, Snake–about the plans.”
Snake’s face went blank, and after a brief second of silence, he sighed. “Well, I suppose it’s alright. Everyone there is human, and it’s time for us to execute anyway.”
“What do you mean?” Walter asked.
“It’s time to set the human race free, Walter.” Snake gave a sly grin. “I heard a little rumor that you had to flee Rashada after being captured by the Queen’s army and escaping no less. Something about you killing the ambassador after a human was assassinated.”
Walter nodded. “But we didn’t kill Candy.”
“Well nonetheless, you should be free to go back within 72 hours or so.”
“There’s soldiers on every corner of Rashada now. We’d been recognized and captured immediately.”
“The Queen has ordered that all troops be withdrawn from Rashada, and she’s sent no squadrons out looking for you. You’re clear, so long as you can avoid the guards.”
“Why would the Queen issue that sort of command? It makes no sense.”
“I don’t know. Let’s ask the Queen herself.” Snake smirked.
An image of the Queen joined Snake on the hologram, and she smiled before placing her hands neatly in front of her frame. “The rebel soldiers are no longer a threat to the galaxy,” she rattled out mockingly.