Universe in Flames 3: Destination Oblivion

by Christian Kallias

  UNIVERSE IN FLAMES

  Volume III

  Destination Oblivion

  By Christian Kallias

  Copyright © 2015 by Christian Kallias

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  First Printing, 2015

  Cover artwork by Christian Kallias

  Christian Kallias

  christian@kallias.com

  www.christiankallias.com

  www.facebook.com/ChristianKallias

  www.twitter.com/kalliasx

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER I

  CHAPTER II

  CHAPTER III

  CHAPTER IV

  CHAPTER V

  CHAPTER VI

  CHAPTER VII

  CHAPTER VIII

  CHAPTER IX

  CHAPTER X

  CHAPTER XI

  CHAPTER XII

  CHAPTER XIII

  CHAPTER XIV

  CHAPTER XV

  CHAPTER XVI

  CHAPTER XVII

  CHAPTER XVIII

  CHAPTER XIX

  CHAPTER XX

  CHAPTER XXI

  CHAPTER XXII

  C H A P T E R

  I

  Chase swiped his index finger under his nose and looked at the blood. He rubbed the blood between his index and thumb and got back up.

  He looked at the tall Droxian standing in front of him. A mix of cheers and boos came from the crowd outside the laser-illuminated arena. Some of the public were waving and flailing their arms; others gave him the thumbs down sign.

  The Droxian launched himself at Chase with a powerful right kick. Chase dodged the blow, caught the leg on his right shoulder and locked it in place. With empty eyes he crushed the leg at knee level with a quick wave of his left hand.

  The Droxian shrieked in agony as the blow dislocated his knee cap. Chase then threw the leg back at him. He fell to the ground with a loud thud as the crowd cheered uncontrollably.

  “Chase! Chase! Chase!” they chanted now.

  He took no pleasure from this, none at all. But he needed to feel the pain these fights brought. At least when he was letting himself be beaten to a pulp, which wasn’t the case much tonight. This was his fourth and last opponent for the evening, and while he let himself get injured on purpose and for the show, patience wasn’t a welcome guest in his thoughts today.

  The Droxian was on the ground, holding his leg, clearly regretting landing the previous blow that had made Chase’s nose bleed.

  This is utterly useless, thought Chase.

  His opponent wasn’t in a position to cause Chase the physical pain he craved lately. But in his soul he knew that no amount of pain from these fights would cover that within his heart. A tear escaped his left eye but he quickly wiped it away.

  “Finish him!” demanded the crowd.

  Chase took two steps towards the Droxian, still on the ground, and the anticipation from the crowd intensified. He hated this, but this was how the fights had to be conducted on board the Obsidian station Ponos One. To the death.

  He didn’t know what made the Droxian react—adrenaline and impending death, probably—but he was glad he did. He punched his own knee back into place with a painful, cracking noise and then stood mostly on his good leg, resuming a fighting stance.

  Why did it have to be a Droxian? thought Chase. Of all the scum roaming these rings. It had to remind him of his past, a past he wanted to forget at all cost. But there was no brushing away the weight and pain of these memories as they rushed back into Chase’s mind, reigniting the deepest scars within his soul. He could obliterate his opponent with a thought; there was no challenge . . . But Chase wasn’t looking for challenge, only pain.

  He ran toward the Droxian, who thrust his elbow towards Chase’s head. The impact threw him to the ground, sending a cloud of sand around him. Chase launched himself feet first towards the Droxian’s jaw. The impact sent the Droxian flying high in the air. Chase performed a somersault in midair and landed back on his feet before the Droxian fell heavily to the floor a second later.

  The crowd went crazy. They were loving this shit. Sometimes Chase would feel like letting his Fury rage get the better of him and destroy everything and everyone around him, but there was already too much blood on his hands. Too many innocents had died.

  It took a good minute for his opponent to muster the strength to rise to his feet. Chase looked at the holographic, real-time gambling screen. His odds had started at two to one on, but they had soared to fifteen now. He turned back to the Droxian. He looked deep into his eyes. He could see fear in them, and that sent him back in time. To that moment when he had the chance to kill his brother Argos but didn’t. The single, most excruciating mistake of his entire life. The one with the most painful consequences.

  He looked towards the bar, deep in the back of the hall in which the fights were taking place, past another three fighting cages—in one of which a Gorgar was beating the shit out of a Brin at lightning speeds. His look settled on an interstellar newscast by the bar. He closed his eyes and projected his mind there.

  “The Earth Alliance has been reported winning yet another battle against the Zarlack Consortium around the ringed planet Zarthos Seven. This only three weeks after the Obsidian Empire officially broke their alliance with the Zarlack forces. In other news, the Obsidian Emperor has officially opened negotiations to join the Earth Alliance,” said the presenter with a smile.

  At least Chase could take a small—very small—amount of comfort with each announcement of Argos’ forces’ new defeats. It had been three months now since his fight with Argos on Damocles-3. Three months that felt like an eternity. In that time, five major battles had been won by the Alliance and only one lost.

  It no longer mattered to Chase who won the war. The only thing that mattered was to cross paths with his brother Argos, and unleash all the hate and anger he had bottled up deep within himself. That day would come, sooner or later and, when it did, this time he would finish the job once and for all.

  Chase’s train of thoughts was interrupted when a powerful knuckle hit his face and made him lose balance. Perhaps he should get his head into this fight for the time being. There would be enough time to plan his revenge later. He had to finish this to get paid. That or die; but that wasn’t happening until after Argos’ heart stopped beating.

  He dodged a poorly executed uppercut, grabbed the Droxian’s arm and used the momentum of the punch to slam him against the ground with the painful sound of multiple ribs breaking. This fight was getting boring. He dragged the Droxian back to his feet and decided to end it. He launched a lightning-fast, fivefold series of punches. He was so fast that, to the naked eye, it seemed the impacts on the Droxian’s body happened before Chase was upon him, and again the crowd cheered and chanted his name. The Droxian’s heart had stopped, but by a miracle he was still standing, a look of terror still locked into his eyes.

  When Chase couldn’t take hearing his name being chanted anymore, he impaled the already dead Droxian through his ribcage, grabbed his heart and tore it out. The lifeless body fell to the ground like a flat board, and Chase held the purple-blooded, engorged heart high above his head. He squeezed it and heard the familiar winning sound played over the sound system.

  “Chase wins!” added a theatrical voice as the cheers intensified.

  Then everything changed. Darkness filled Chase’s vision.

  “What have you become?” said Aphroditis, standing in front of him in the dark.
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  “What you made me.”

  “No, what you are now is your own doing!”

  “And if you were in front of me in the flesh, you’d get the same treatment.”

  Tears flowed down Aphroditis’ face.

  “This isn’t gonna work. I don’t want anything to do with you or Ares anymore. Please leave me be.”

  She faded into the darkness with sadness in her eyes; then the darkness faded back into reality.

  Chase collected his winnings and went to the bar. He ordered a Jur’Ran’s Blackhole. That drink packed the punch he needed to get his mind away from tonight’s fights and unpleasant memories. The drink was appropriately named, a dark-red base liquid with a hovering black pill in the center that seemed to syphon the color out of the drink towards it.

  As he took a sip a woman came and sat next to him. He looked at her briefly. She had beautiful, long green hair, blue eyes—humanoid. With a pretty, round face and adorable smile.

  “You fight well,” she said. “Mind if I join you?”

  “Sure, just don’t expect fun company.”

  “Alright, fair enough I guess.” She turned to the barman and ordered a drink, before adding, “What I have trouble understanding is why you let your opponents think they have a chance.”

  Chase exhaled . . .

  “Look, I don’t want to annoy you or anything, but I can tell you are letting them hit you. Or am I wrong?”

  “You aren’t. I need the pain, but no matter how tough they are, they can’t deliver enough of it.”

  “What was her name?”

  Chase took another sip of his drink.

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “It’s still too fresh. I get it. Like everything else, you’ll get over it in time, but I know how painful it can be to lose someone we love.”

  “I really don’t want to talk about this. I should go.”

  She put her hand on his shoulder. Her palm was soft, and it reminded him of Sarah.

  “I’m sorry, Chase. I didn’t want to bring back old demons. Please don’t go on my account.”

  Chase finished up his drink and ordered another.

  “That’s okay,” he said, after a couple of sips from his second drink.

  “May I ask why you’re fighting, though? You clearly don’t enjoy yourself, unless I read it all wrong.”

  “Well, for one I need the pain; but lately it’s to correct a mistake I made. You see I need to . . .” He stopped himself for a moment and decided to rephrase it. “I have something to do but I need a ship, and I lost mine, stupidly.”

  “How did you lose your ship? If you don’t mind me asking.”

  “Gambling,” said Chase, looking down.

  She playfully pushed his shoulder. “Hey, don’t get yourself down. It happens to the best of us.”

  “I can’t believe I did this, you know. I never gambled before, but I got the bug really bad. And one night, I bit off more than I could chew.”

  “I understand. So you fight to buy your ship back?”

  “Yeah, except the player I lost to said he would only play the ship back, not allow me to buy it back. That puts me in a shitty position, since I need a lot of credits to even enter that game.”

  Chase felt really silly. How could he have done this? Not only had he lost the StarFury he stole from his friends when he decided to leave everything behind. But he also allowed this advanced technology to potentially fall into the wrong hands.

  “Look, you need your ship. I understand. What if I could help you?”

  Chase raised an eyebrow.

  “Why would you help me? You don’t even know me.”

  “Look, in my line of work, I’ve been in similar situations and I recognize a broken heart when I see one.”

  “What is it you do?”

  “I’m a bounty hunter.”

  “Really? I never met a bounty hunter before and I must admit I had a completely different mental image. Not in a million years could I have guessed that’s what you do.”

  “That’s because you are down at the moment. Take a closer look,” she said, pivoting on her chair and changing her posture.

  She was wearing a really tight, leather, black outfit. A closer look revealed interweaves in the fabric, perhaps some sort of ultra-thin body armor. He saw the holster on her left hip, and soon noticed different places in her attire where she could be holding blades or knives.

  “So?” she said.

  “Yeah, now that I look at you, I see someone ready for anything.”

  “But don’t sweat it. My physical appearance is often the first thing people see. In this business it’s an edge. Many people don’t see me coming until it’s too late.”

  Chase nodded and took another sip of his drink, slowly feeling the effects of the alcohol. He didn’t know if it was his Fury genes, but he would need a lot of Jur’Ran’s Blackholes to get seriously inebriated.

  “So, why would a bounty hunter help me?”

  “It’s not a selfless act. I propose more of an exchange of services here. I help you; you help me in return. Who has your ship?”

  “A card player named Tron’Tak.”

  “I know him quite well. He most probably played you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Let me guess. You played a few nights together and won almost every time, then, all of a sudden, you lost it all in one night.”

  Chase’s expression darkened. “Yeah, that’s exactly what happened.”

  “He played you. When an experienced card player smells a rookie—no offense—that’s how they prey on them. They give you a sense of confidence so that once you start losing, you actually don’t realize what’s happening and you think it’s just bad luck; until your luck is actually so bad you lost it all trying to shake the bad streak.”

  “So he cheated?” asked Chase, pissed off.

  “Well, he might have; but he might just have played badly on purpose, and then played well when he knew you would go all the way.”

  Chase exhaled deeply, frustrated at being taken for a fool.

  “Lighten up, Chase. You’re not the first or last who will fall for such a tactic.”

  “Doesn’t really help my ego right now.”

  “Fuck the ego. It’s good for nothing. You need to learn from this and then be aware, so it never repeats. That’s what life is, isn’t it? We make mistakes and learn from them.”

  Chase didn’t know if it was the alcohol slowly taking hold of him, but this last comment hit home harder than he wanted it to. He felt a pain in the heart he was not ready for. A tear fell down his cheek.

  “You’re alright? I’m sorry. Did I say . . .? Oh, me and my big mouth have brought back some painful memory.”

  She rose from her chair and embraced him.

  “What are you doing?” asked Chase, clearly not prepared for a show of affection from a complete stranger.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to bring bad memories to the surface. That’s my way of apologizing. Does it make you uncomfortable?”

  In fact, it did, but it also brought back happy memories of when Sarah took him in his arms. One part of him wanted to brush the stranger’s arm away and another wanted nothing more than to embrace her back. Before he could make up his mind she sat back on her chair and looked at him with what seemed like genuine compassion. Something he hadn’t seen in anyone’s eyes for quite a while.

  “You’re good, soldier?” she said playfully.

  “I’m . . . I’m okay. Thanks, I guess.”

  “Don’t sweat it. Now, back to your ship problem. I know Tron’Tak very well. In fact, the little weasel owes me. So getting your ship back shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “That would really be helpful, but . . .” He let the words hang.

  “What do I want in return?”

  “Exactly.”

  She took a long breath, something Chase decided right there wasn’t a good sign.

  “I may need your muscles; at the ver
y least, for protection. This new warrant I took is probably the biggest and most dangerous I ever tried to cash in. On the other hand, it pays so well, I could very well retire after that job.”

  “I see. Must be dangerous, then?”

  “Yeah, probably more than I can fathom. I mean . . . I’ve been at it for more than ten years and never saw such a sum on any warrant. This guy has pissed the wrong crowd; in fact, so much so that he is more valuable dead than alive.”

  “I have a mark I also want to kill . . .”

  “Oh? Well I doubt it’s the same guy, unless he is called Argos.”

  “WHAT? What did you just say?”

  “That’s the name of my warrant, a certain Argos.”

  Chase’s blood ran cold first, and then melting lava ran through his veins. His eyes glowed purple and the bounty hunter was startled.

  “What’s with your eyes?” she uttered, her voice trembling.

  Realizing he was letting his Fury out and his anger consume him, he tried to calm himself, but it was getting really difficult.

  “I’m sorry. That name. That name . . .” Chase was unable to finish his sentence.

  “What’s with it?”

  “My twin brother is called Argos.”

  “Oh? If this is the same dude, I clearly knocked at the wrong door. I’m sorry.”

  “What’s the last name on the warrant?” said Chase, not sure he wanted to know.

  “Thanatos.”

  “Yeah, that’s my twin brother alright.”

  What were the odds of this? wondered Chase. None, he decided. While he had learned the hard way not to gamble, he found this extremely suspicious. In fact, he immediately started thinking of possible scenarios. This woman was proposing to help him catch Argos. Was it a ploy by the Olympians? He had been less than courteous with them lately. Perhaps they needed a fresh face to deliver their messages, in an attempt to sway him back towards them. Or was it an attempt from Argos himself to lead Chase back to him? Chase had no doubt that Argos wanted him for something, otherwise he would have killed him before. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have opportunities to do so. On multiple occasions, in fact. The first when he was helpless inside his disabled F-140. The second on Hellstar. And the last when the Alliance strike force had been trapped in the shipyard at Gatos Nebula.