Border Worlds (United Star Systems Book 1)

by J Malcolm Patrick

  The beast grunted from behind the counter on their approach.

  “Lenny and Alvin. Cute.”

  “Lee and Alvarez.” Lee corrected, smiling. He had the kind of smile you might see on a fox if a fox could smile.

  Alvarez held his breath.

  Gunther, as the locals called him, fixed his glare onto Lee. “What?” he thundered. The bass accompanying the big man’s voice assaulted Alvarez’s eardrums, and he felt sure it caused the deck to vibrate.

  “Alvarez and Lee ya big oak. Get it right or I’ll come back there and smack you,” Lee said.

  Seeing this might turn ugly and sensing Gunther had a fuse shorter than the sulfur on a matchstick, Alvarez interjected, his forced smile growing wider. “Don’t mind my friend here he likes too much yapping. Classic case of an under-developed brain. We’re here to collect item P-3123.” He put an electronic ticket down on the counter indicating the item in question had been pre-purchased. No ticket would state what it was, the merchant would have the reference.

  The merchant tasted the words. “P-3123,” he said. “Not easy to come by. If I didn’t know better and I don’t, I’d say you two are USSI spooks. Yeah, we heard they’re making a big push in this sector. Our system . . . the last bastion of freedom for light-years. Looking to route us out. Alvin and Lenny, you two look fresh out of the spook academy.”

  Alvarez’s fingers tapped the counter. They didn’t have time to argue with a big goof. “You really think United Star Systems Intelligence would send spies, looking like us, with these credentials and fresh out of the academy? Into this place?”

  “Yeah, I do. Because they think we’re stupid.”

  “Buddy,” Lee said. “We know you’re stupid already just from talking to you for two minutes. In fact, you’re so stupid the Intel boys have probably decided to ignore you all this time, for fear of reintegrating someone as stupid as you back into society.”

  Alvarez shook his head. Lee had to do it. He just had to open his big undiplomatic mouth. Gunther simply stared open mouthed while Alvarez drew in a sharp breath and let it out slowly, jamming a thumb towards the big merchant.

  “You know he’s huge right. A rare specimen this one,” he said, pulling Lee’s shoulder and twisting him away from the giant, hoping the big man couldn’t hear them.

  Lee shrugged. “Yeah, dumb as he is huge. So what,” he said, looking back over their potential opponent. “We can take him. He’ll tire quick.”

  “Lee . . . he’ll tire after two punches, one for each of us and it’s over.”

  “Then we’ll just have to fight dirty. I’ll distract him and you kick him in the gonads,” Lee said.

  “The what?”

  “His nuts, Vee.”

  “Nuts?”

  “His man parts for crying out loud,” Lee said, in exasperation.

  Alvarez sighed. “You really should speak English at a time like this you know.”

  They both turned as the hulking Gunther spoke. “Oh I’m gonna break you boys a new back.” He slammed a closed right fist into his left palm, making a cracking sound so loud Alvarez thought had to be impossible.

  Alvarez cringed. He’s going to kill us.

  “Lee,” Alvarez said. “You and I are going to have words if we survive!”

  Lee didn’t respond and in one clean motion, he vaulted over the counter with precision swiftness, slamming the full force of his body weight behind his booted feet into the burly man’s chest. His target staggered backwards leaving room for Lee to step forward, and Alvarez to hop the counter.

  Just as Alvarez hopped the counter, Gunther lunged on the attack. With a huge sweeping right fist, he targeted Lee, maybe earlier predictions were wrong, and he was going to knock them both out with one punch. Lee ducked in time, and the haymaker now loomed toward Alvarez, who raised both arms in front to deflect the blow. Although he deflected most of the force, it knocked him over into some crates, sending the stack and him crashing across the deck. The blow possibly dented his forearm bones—if such a thing was even possible.

  Alvarez realized the momentum from Gunther’s wild swing left him open to a quick strike from Lee. Lee aimed straight for the big man’s nose and there was a satisfying bone-crunching sound on impact. The big man grunted, but stood firm. He grabbed Lee’s collar with both hands, and hurled him across the room into a now recovering Alvarez, knocking him down again.

  Alvarez struggled to breathe while looking at Lee. “I don’t think we got the gonads yet.”

  Lee opened his mouth, no doubt about to say something witty, when Gunther bellowed at them while wiping blood from his nose.

  “Come on then, let’s have it!”

  If before, Gunther had appeared to be an unusually large man to both men, he now looked like he had swelled several times over, as if the angrier he got, the bigger he became.

  “The man’s a hulk, this is hilarious!” Lee said.

  Alvarez wasn’t amused. Time wasn’t on their side. They needed to be off this station soon. Both men got to their feet and spread out. Lee to the left, Alvarez to the right.

  “You’re in for it now you oversized panda,” Lee said, bouncing from side to side and shuffling his feet, “they call us the hot-steppers across several sectors!”

  Alvarez sighed, wanting to laugh. Lee never knew when to shut up.

  Lee surged in first, landing a left hook, which only served to enrage the grizzly bear. As he was about to land a right cross, the bear’s left fist loomed large toward Lee’s face. Alvarez stepped in and grabbed Gunther’s arm on the inside of his, pulling back the big man’s left arm and holding on for dear life. Similar to ridding oneself of a pest, the big man shook his left arm and brought his right arm over to punch Alvarez. Lee grabbed that arm and brought his knee up into the big man’s groin. Once. Twice. Three times. As Gunther bent to protect his sensitive area, Lee drove the knee straight into the big man’s nose and there was another bone crunching sound. But this wild bear was only just getting started.

  The big oak held his head straight and smiled a bloody smile. Blood oozed from his nose onto his mouth and soaked his beard. With a ferocious intensity, he slammed his head into Lee’s forehead causing the latter to stagger and fall. With his right arm now free of Lee, the giant pummeled Alvarez in the gut, and Alvarez couldn’t hold on as the wild beast hammered away at him.

  Alvarez’s head throbbed as if someone struck him with an old hard-covered book. He tried to peep through the relentless mayhem inflicted on him. He couldn’t see if Lee was conscious. He summed up some indignant rage and with his hard steel boots kicked the back of the burley man’s legs behind the knees causing Gunther to hit the deck on one knee. With a yowl, his target pulled him down to the deck as he was still holding on to the big man’s left arm inside the elbow.

  There was a shuffling behind. Gunther yelped and the giant’s grip loosened. The oversized opponent was down on one knee over him. Alvarez caught a glimpse of Lee as he vaulted towards the thick mass of a man, kicked him square in the face knocking him back, and fell on top of him. Lee propped his upper body up on the deck with his left hand and sent another shocking right fist into what was left of Gunther’s nose. But the unstoppable brute shoved Lee away and grabbed onto Alvarez in an attempt to regain his feet.

  Alvarez saw what the brute was trying to do and kicked him to the side of his face sending the big man tumbling left. At last, the wild bear seemed low on honey. Pressing his brief advantage, Alvarez attempted another kick to the face but the inflated monstrosity grabbed his boot, pulled him down to the deck, and elbowed him to the side of his face repeatedly.

  Lee regained his feet from the opposing flank and launched a steel tipped boot straight up between the bear’s legs while the big bear continued to pound Alvarez with elbows.

  “I got him in the gonads!” Lee shouted, with a crazy maniacal grin on his face.

  “Well they must be made of steel!” Alvarez shouted back from under the relentless hail of elbows rainin
g down on him.

  When Lee attempted another kick, the large man caught Lee’s leg between his own legs, twisted and brought Lee down. He pushed off of Lee and over on top Alvarez and aimed a kill punch straight at his face. Lee kicked Gunther with both feet and knocked him off Alvarez onto the deck and leaped on him.

  Seizing the opportunity, Alvarez rolled onto the big bear as well, pinning the giant man’s left arm to the deck while Lee pinned the other. Lee then held the big man’s muff of beard and slammed the back of Gunther’s head against the deck. Once. Twice. Gunther’s body went limp and Lee rolled off.

  They both lay flat on their backs struggling for every breath. “Next time,” Alvarez said. “I’m just going to knock you out instead and apologize for your behavior. I think that’ll be easier.”

  They both laughed but it sounded more like a death rattle. Alvarez rose first and offered an arm to Lee, who took it. They headed into the back room. Arrayed across the large warehouse-styled compartment were several shelves in near endless rows. Probably containing everything from illegal narcotics to pulse weapons.

  “Which one is it?” Alvarez asked.

  “That’s it,” Lee said, pointing to a long rectangular-shaped black box. He motioned for Alvarez to bring an anti-grav plank. The two of them then loaded the crate on the plank and exited the compartment and the front reception area.

  They made their way back across the large open space. Noticeable bruises splayed across each man’s face. Alvarez’s upper lip was split and blood formed in the corners of his mouth. Below Lee’s left eye was swollen where the merchant bashed him with his head. Lee walked with a slight limp as they both passed ongoing deals, slave auctions, and perhaps heists in planning. They stopped at the processing desk.

  The sentry at the processing area looked them over, shaking his head. “Found what you boys were looking for did you?” he asked.

  Alvarez motioned toward Gunther’s space way at the back. “Yeah, that guy, he accused us of being spies. As you can see, we’ve got our item and we’re on our way. No raid incoming. So call us even. Hope he doesn’t hold a grudge.”

  The security man snorted. “Gunther? If it’s one thing he does better than anything else is hold a grudge. But his stupidity is notorious. I’ll see to it he is informed of his mistake. That’s the best I can do for you. But I’d give him a long while to cool off before I came back if I was you.”

  They both nodded and limped off the deck with their hard-won package.

  Lee wiped a spot of blood from his lip. “Vee, we have three days to get to Rigel.”

  “We’ll get there. Aaron will be looking for us and we know the trouble he finds when he’s idle.”

  Chapter 6 – Honor Above Loyalty

  Emperor-class Imperial Dreadnought - Phalanx

  Troff System

  Imperial Space

  Even high-ranking Imperial Navy Commander’s endured hardship from time to time.

  This was no different for Lord Commander Quintus Scipio, who had operational Command of one-third of the Imperial Navy and Commanded the flagship Phalanx. One of the latest behemoths recently refitted at the advanced starship assembly yards in the otherwise unremarkable star system of Troff.

  Phalanx orbited Troff’s primary star for three days until he received the unfortunate orders detailing his new assignment from the Emperor himself.

  The Phalanx was to join the assembled fleet at Troff and receive the Emperor’s personal advisor Lord Praetor Brutus Bannon. Bannon was a politician with responsibility for Imperial Interstellar Security. Quintus was tasked to take him close to Atlas Prime for a special mission. On receipt of the orders, Quintus summoned his Imperial Intelligence liaison to his office.

  Quintus sat behind his desk waiting for the agent to finish reading the orders. The Lord Commander embodied the discipline of a loyal officer. He kept his dark hair short and never allowed stubble to linger on his chin. Golden gauntlet’s clasped firmly to his olive skinned forearms. His face bore fine and flawless features. He wore a ceremonial golden breast-plate over his dark colored Navy uniform. The agent sitting opposite was almost a replica.

  If they stood side by side, the only difference would be the color of their capes, which now hung in the receiving area of the Lord Commander’s office. Quintus wore red like all other high-ranking officers of the Imperial Navy. Centurions wore blue capes. The agent was a citizen and not a member of the Navy and his cape was white.

  Quintus’ personal office didn’t lack decorations. They served as reminders of why he chose the solitary life of service in the Imperial Navy. On the opposite bulkhead, draped the dark Imperial Flag with a phoenix rising from the corona of a star at the center. On the bulkhead to his left, a miniature display of previous generations of Imperial warships. Over to the right a large portrait of the home world Hosque and its largest city Antwerp. The Imperial agent sitting across from him finally spoke.

  “He’s a radical extremist and I don’t like him,” Platus said, pounding his fist on the antique steel desk between them. Not a reaction Quintus would tolerate from anyone. But Platus happened also to be his brother.

  Quintus winced at the sudden outburst. “Platus, you dislike everyone. Name one person in the Navy you do like.”

  Platus opened his mouth, but no words came out.

  Quintus shook his head. “My point exactly.”

  “I like Bannon even less than other people I dislike. I’m warning you, Quintus, nothing good will come of having him aboard or this secret mission. You know better than I do, the Empire has assembled an invasion fleet here.”

  The Troff system—an otherwise insignificant system far from the spying apparatus of other Worlds—now bustled with stellar activity. The Navy must have undertaken an extraordinary effort to hide this undertaking. Several shipyards across the system produced advanced warships and refitted older ones with alarming efficiency.

  “Some citizens and half the Navy believe war with the United Star Systems is inevitable and we should strike first,” Quintus said.

  “And what do you believe, Quintus?”

  “I believe if they are correct, then of course a pre-emptive strike is ideal.”

  Platus shook his head. “But what if they’re wrong? 70 years of peace? Dismissed on a whim? We’ve discussed this before and you’ve said yourself that highly unusual activity within the United Systems does not justify an invasion.”

  “I did say that, but I’m not radical. If it rains and the Lord Praetor gets wet, he would use it as justification for an invasion.”

  “We,” Platus said, slapping his breastplate, “are loyal servants of the Empire. Our father before us and his father before him and all the line of our family back to the day we declared independence from the United Star Systems. We chose to serve for the good and enlightenment of our people, not to plunge them into war, desolation and misery. Such, would be the only outcome of another interstellar war. With the advent of faster warships and increasingly powerful weapons, what kind of galaxy would remain? Who and what would be left to rule over? I wonder sometimes if Bannon and others of his ilk consider these things.”

  Quintus laughed. “They are radicals, and extremists. I somehow do not believe those individuals are capable of those considerations. The rational part of their thought process was long flushed out of them.”

  “Then the question we face is—what do we do if Bannon intends to provoke a war? Throughout this star system a technologically advanced fleet of warships and Navy personnel waits, primed for invasion. This could almost be the Lord Praetor’s private Navy. Ancient Gods, Quintus, have we become mercenaries?”

  “Platus, intelligence operatives would make terrible politicians, leave the wild conspiracy theories to me. As one of the Navy’s Lord Commanders, I still have high favor with the Emperor. I will engage the Emperor on this matter and find out what Bannon is truly planning here and whether the Emperor truly sanctions it. I suspect Bannon with his half-truths and other propaganda might
easily influence the Emperor to drastic actions.”

  “Have you considered what you will do either way?” Platus asked.

  Quintus shook his head.

  “Since it would seem the Emperor is aware of this ‘activity’, would it not mean the Emperor embraces radical views himself or doesn’t oppose them enough to intervene? Would we want to be part of the machinations of this invasion? An interstellar war simply because neither of our peoples are willing to compromise on any issue? If we support it by act or omission, how are we different, Quintus?”

  “Careful, Platus, if anyone heard you, they would arrest you for high-treason.”

  “It can’t be treason to love the Empire,” Platus said, as he stood and walked to the polarized observation glass. “The Empire would not survive. This ideology within the Empire is driven by hatred and intolerance, their only stated goal to wipe out the USS. The USS would be fighting for hope and survival . . . we could never win. And to prevent this, I will have to save my beloved Empire and its people from themselves. I’ve made my decision, Quintus. If you haven’t yet, you will have to make it when the time comes. Just ask yourself how you would want father to remember you.”

  Quintus raised himself from behind the desk and stood at Platus’ side.

  “If you weren’t my brother,” he said. “I wouldn’t know you have something dangerous planned. Out with it now, Platus.”

  Platus grunted. “I have information from an agent deep within the USSF that Supreme Commander Shepherd has sent his most trusted advisor on a special mission to Rigel.”