Alpha Nebula

  Jaroot sat just nearby, visibly exhausted and worn out. A sudden noise had them both jump. Akrillis quickly got up and aimed his pistol towards the bushes. The shrubbery started to move. Something was definitely approaching. Then, a little Tarian emerged.

  “Laurelle!” Akrillis shouted in joy. “You’re alive!”

  Akrillis felt the warmth of her hug as she melted in his welcoming arms. He smiled and took a quick look to see if she was injured. “I feared the worst. Thank the maker you’re okay, especially since you went off in the same direction as my brother. Trust me—you don’t want to end up having to travel with him, he’s—”

  That’s when Vanakis stepped out from the trees.

  “Val,” Akrillis acknowledged. “You made it,” he sounded not-so-happy. “You look a bit scratched up,” Akrillis noted.

  “Got this one to thank for that,” Vanakis explained.

  That’s when Akrillis noticed the green-skinned man beside him and was puzzled beyond comprehension. His brother and his enemy stood side-by-side like nothing was wrong.

  “Val, could I speak to you alone, please,” Akrillis demanded with a tone.

  “Oh, great. I’m in trouble,” Vanakis remarked as they went off to more private talks.

  Akrillis led Vanakis a good distance away. He didn’t want the others overhearing the conversation. Eventually they came to a dead end in the form of a high cliff. There, they were careful to not stand too close to the edge.

  “On the edge of a cliff?” Vanakis mentioned. “As good a place as any for a mother’s meeting.”

  “You brought him,” Akrillis shouted.

  “You brought Jaroot?” Vanakis fired back.

  “Just because he’s trying to kill you doesn’t mean Jaroot has to be my enemy,” Akrillis insisted. “That bounty hunter wants both our heads.”

  “Well, you know I wanna get out of here alive. The more aid, the better,” Val explained.

  “He’s been trying to kill us.” Akrillis clarified.

  “I noticed,” Val replied—sarcastically, of course.

  “And yet you’re working with him?”

  “We’re alive, aren’t we?” Val smirked.

  “For now, but how long before you’ve got your back turned and he decides to strike?” Akrillis exclaimed.

  “We made a deal. Nothing happens until we’re out of here. Then, it’s game on. Look, I couldn’t get a signal, so we’ll need a hand getting off this world,” Val explained to his brother. “Besides, he’s had plenty of opportunities to kill me over the last few weeks. He’s all right. His anger, though… That’s a different story. He gets frustrated even quicker than you do.”

  “You realise Jaroot’s mercs are probably jamming us, blocking our communications,” Akrillis pointed out. “And he’s a bounty hunter. You think a deal means anything to him? As long as he gets his pay, he couldn’t give a shit.”

  “Look, just trust me, okay? I’ve got it all sorted out,” Vanakis insisted.

  “Trust you? Vanakis, you lied to me, you used me, and you did it all for your own personal gain!” Akrillis yelled as he grew more and more furious. “You planted that idea in my head.”

  Vanakis laughed. “And I’d have suggested it myself if it had taken you any longer.”

  “You’re pathetic,” Akrillis declared.

  “Duly noted!” Val shouted. “Are we finished here?”

  “No, we’re not!” Akrillis yelled. “You need to straighten up.”

  “Don’t give me that shit. You’re not my father!” Vanakis snapped back. He was tired of enduring the daily lectures.

  “No, I’m your brother, and right now, you need to start thinking of someone other than yourself,” Akrillis explained.

  “I don’t need anyone else, anyway, and I especially don’t need you. Fuck you!” Vanakis shouted.

  Before he could walk off, Akrillis lashed out in rage as if it was beyond his control. Vanakis was suddenly punched in the head. Val quickly tackled Akrillis to the ground and they scuffled. Once they separated from one another and got up, Akrillis felt his blood sizzling, he kicked Vanakis. The force pushed Val over the edge of the cliff.

  “Vanakis!” Akrillis bolted to the edge with a shocked face.

  Akrillis stood atop the cliff as a tear ran down his cheek. He immediately regretted that act. Akrillis felt how stupid he just behaved. The wave of guilt crashed hard into him. He just killed his own brother.

  After a while of sobbing, Akrillis went back to try and find the others but couldn’t recall which way was the right one. His eyes were as red as tomatoes and his cheeks wet. He hurried in the direction he thought was the most correct in hopes of finding someone.

  “Guys,” Akrillis shouted. “Anyone?”

  Akrillis got no response.

  Vanakis fell dozens of feet to the tree line below. As he fell through the trees, he hit thick branches and twigs. When Val finally reached the ground, his body ached all over. He quickly screamed at the branch that had impaled his abdomen. Vanakis crawled across the grass below the forest with a trail of blood behind him. He dragged his would-be corpse until he lost all his strength. His vision faded to black and before he knew it, he was long gone.

  Well, that kinda puts a thorn in the whole ‘rekindle their bond and save the day’ theory. I know you’re looking for plot twists and what-not, but killing off one of the most central characters? Come on, James! I happen to have really liked him, even if he was an asshole. Still, I had high hopes for him. Way to crush my expectations, James. Why don’t you just squash my dreams while you’re at it?

  EIGHTEEN

  Fleiss felt the burn of the three suns scorching her skin as she waited for Trydon. Today was just as blisteringly hot as any other day. When he finally arrived at long last she was eager to know what was so important.

  As he approached her, he wiped the pouring sweat from his forehead. “I need a favour—a big one.”

  Fleiss deeply inhaled the hot air when she expected the worst, “And what would that be?” She almost feared to ask.

  “We’ve concluded that, in order to have the best chance of success, we need to be sure the Avayans can’t contact anyone for help, which means cutting off their communication systems,” he explained.

  “I feel a ‘but’ coming on,” she noted.

  “But the communication hub is in your sector of the compound,” he continued. “Only you or someone in your sector can reach it.”

  “I was afraid of that,” she mentioned. “How would it work?”

  “We simply need the command codes. Using those codes during the coup will allow us to shut off communications from pretty much any terminal,” Trydon explained.

  “All right. What do I need to do?” Fleiss asked.

  It was a long, never-ending wait for sundown. Once darkness fell, it was time. Fleiss hastily approached the communications tower. She came to a stop behind a collection of storage crates and took a deep breath. She tried to control her nerves, drown her doubts, and ready herself for a more-than-likely very bad scenario. The communications tower itself was very tall. On the other side of the crates were guards. They sat and enjoyed each other’s company while smoking and laughing.

  “That stupid slave vermin… Begged on his knees like a cowering dog, whimpering with his tail between his legs,” one guard told his story as the others laughed.

  “Feline maggots!” another declared.

  Fleiss needed a way past the guards to get into the tower but couldn’t get by unseen. She knew she needed another course of action. There were at least four or five of them. She couldn’t simply sneak past. It was too risky.

  They sat in their chairs around their makeshift fire with their horrible stories, laughing and carrying on until a slave woman suddenly approached them.

  “What are you doing out, trog?” One guard shouted as he stood up.

  As the Avayan guards converged on her, Fleiss circled him as her fingers elegantly wondered across his broad , armoured shou
lders.

  “I was looking for some company,” she told him.

  “Company?” he replied with a dirty smirk.

  “Yes,” she clarified as she whispered in his ear, in close with her arms on him, alluring and seductive.

  “I’ll be back later,” the guard told his two associates.

  “No, not you,” she said. “All three of you,” she surprised them.

  One guard signalled the others over, and they huddled away from her prying ears.

  “I call dibs,” one declared.

  “No way! I saw her first,” another announced.

  “How are we going do this? We can’t all actually…or can we?” he wondered.

  “No one is seeing my junk,” one said.

  “You gays have already checked out my vegetables,” another proclaimed.

  “That’s cause you walk around naked after your shower, you moron,” one snapped back.

  “I like to let it breathe,” he explained.

  “God, you are such a dipshit,” another responded.

  “It’s healthy to give it some air from time to time,” he continued.

  “Shut up! Just shut up!” One snapped. “Um, where’d she go?”

  The other two turned to find she had vanished.

  Fleiss crept down a corridor. Anxiety was only now kicking in. Once just outside the tower’s door, she didn’t want to risk simply walking inside and hoping for the best. Instead, she noticed the small air ducting nearby. Believing herself small enough to fit inside, she gave it a try. She managed to squeeze her way inside to a tight fit with not much room to move. Oddly enough, it reminded her of her sleeping quarters. Fleiss Crawled forward inch by inch, bit by bit. It was a slow struggle that seemed to go on forever. The air felt horrid; she felt herself struggling to breathe in the claustrophobic tunnel.

  “Next time, someone else gets this job,” she told herself.

  Upon reaching a fork in the road, she wasn’t sure which direction to take. It should be fairly simple: Go in the direction of the comms tower. But she felt like she had lost all sense of direction in that vent. After some careful thinking, Fleiss turned in what she hoped was the right direction. Soon enough, she noticed that the vent ended not too far up ahead. Relief ran through her veins already. The skin on her knees was sore and aching each time she moved. She had accumulated her fair share of scrapes and bruises along the way. On arrival to the grate, she had to take a deep breath to calm herself. Wrong way.

  “Give me a break,” she sighed.

  Once at the other end, she peeked through the grate—the correct grate this time. Avayans sat in an office of sorts; the night shift was working away.

  “Transport 217, you are clear for landing in Bay 12,” the operator declared.

  “Copy tower, starting our landing run,” the transport acknowledged.

  ‘Another collection of slaves arriving?’ She wondered. She pondered whether she could sneak out of the vent undetected but soon noticed the weapon control panel nearby, which allowed for the direct operation of several of the facilities’ defence turrets. ‘I have to do something,’ she decided. She didn’t want more innocence to succumb to the torturous ways of the Avayans.

  Fleiss burst her way out and landed awkwardly on the floor. Her jittery nerves carried her as she quickly slammed one Avayan’s head on his workstation. Then, she grabbed the nearby gun and shot the other in his thigh. He fell to the ground, out of sight and out of mind. Fleiss took a second to process the fact she just killed a man. Her heart was pounding against the inside of her chest. She raced to the turret controls. The transport was fast approaching the landing bay and was ready to unload it’s captured cargo.

  “Tower we are making our final approach,” they informed with no response. “Tower, this is transport 217. We are making our final approach. Come in, tower.”

  “What the hell’s going on?” one pilot said to the other with his finger still activating the comm.

  Several of the facilities’ turrets suddenly took aim at the ship.

  “We’re under fire!” The pilot shouted.

  “They’ve got a lock!” The other yelled.

  “Tower hold fire!” The pilot pleaded.

  Several deadly missiles zoomed straight for them. The Avayans panicked as they were caught off guard and helpless. The explosion was enormous. Every unfortunate slave and every horrible guard saw the fire in the sky. A cloud of flames rose above that lit up the heavens. It was a surprise firework show. The pilots and slaves onboard were alive and well, except for the shock. The large vessel was quite capable of taking the hit, but not without considerable damage.

  The transport began spiralling out of control, just as Fleiss had been counting on. She hoped it would land somewhere in the desert, giving its captive slaves a fighting chance. The ship swerved around in the air as its aerodynamics kept it from plummeting straight to the ground. Fleiss was horrified to see the ship swerve and crash into the side of the compound, high up in the tall structure with smoke radiating from the side of the huge building. Fleiss saw her plan backfire and knew she had to get out quickly. She could feel the blood travelling through her veins with every pump of her anxious heart.

  She heard noise coming from nearby as the injured Avayan stumbled back to his feet trying to grab a gun. She quickly fired, and he dropped back to the ground behind a desk. She wasn’t fussed if he was alive or dead. He was out of the picture and that’s all she needed. Knowing someone would’ve heard that, she hurried. She downloaded the codes and rushed to the door. On the way, that same guard began to rise once again.

  “Hey,” he struggled to get out of his mouth.

  Fleiss shot him for a third time and he dropped to the ground yet again. She bolted for the exit to find a single guard on the other side racing his way to the tower. It took more than a few shots, but she took him out of the equation. A female Avayan sprung out from another doorway. Fleiss didn’t hesitate as she continued to run. She punched the guard straight in the face. The female fell unconscious, and Fleiss didn’t bother to stop or even look back. She quickly returned to the campfire where the guards had been sitting earlier. They aimed at her and demanded that she drop to the floor. Fleiss noticed the barrels just beside them. She also noticed the highly flammable warning label placed on the barrels.

  For safety, or to be conveniently noticeable in the event of a chase scene.

  Before the Avayans could react, Fleiss shot the barrels. They ignited and sent the guards hurling off the ground.

  When Fleiss arrived back at the gate, Trydon was waiting for her. “What the hell did you do?” he questioned.

  “Got the codes, just like you asked,” she confirmed.

  Trydon looked over at the fire, smoke, and chaos she had left behind. Screaming and yelling was heard everywhere.

  “Yeah, discreetly,” he told her.

  “Either way, mission accomplished,” she declared.

  “Let’s just hope it’s going to be that simple,” he worried.

  Red lights began flashing as a siren went off. “What’s happening?” Fleiss stressed.

  “I don’t know.” They had to yell to even hear each other over the deafening sirens. “We should split before something happens,” Trydon suggested. “Good luck,” he wished her before they made their way off.

  Fleiss managed to return to her sleeping quarters unnoticed. Guards began going from room to room.

  “This sector is under lockdown!” they yelled.

  All rooms were locked until further notice. Fleiss felt fearful. She thought she would be caught for sure.

  So, we’re not going to find out what happened to the crashed ship or the people on it? Fine, lazy writer.

  NINETEEN

  All feeling was dissipating. King Papyrus was breathing his last breaths. He rested in his own bed, within the palace of Nova. He much preferred the comfort of his own home over the hospital environment. With his wife by his side, the king slowly fell asleep, never to wake again.
The King of Jenemi had passed on, leaving the throne to Akrillis. Of course, for a time, Papyrus’ wife, Amorae, would still rule as queen.

  Several days later, a funeral for their former leader was held. Papyrus’ body was buried in the royal crypts, just like the bodies of many kings and queens before him.

  All the citizens of Jenemi held candles on the streets, holding them high in honour of their fallen king. King Papyrus had lived for 1,387 years and had ruled for many centuries.

  “My queen,” Byron—one of the cities politicians—called, “we located security footage of Akrillis and Vanakis on Sorrentalle. They appear to be travelling with a small girl,” he informed her.

  “What are they doing all the way out there? Get them back here now,” Amorae ordered.

  “It appears they are no longer on the planet, my queen,” Byron said regrettably.

  “Find them,” she commanded. “I want a search issued immediately.”

  “Right away, your highness,” Byron went off straight away to make preparations.

  Queen Amorae feared for her sons’ safety. She knew the danger they had put themselves in.

  It’s going to be worse when she finds out Vanakis died.

  TWENTY

  He opened his eyes slowly while gradually adjusting to the light. As his environment became clearer, Vanakis realised he was still in the jungle of Veeraan.

  He is alive after all.

  He tried sitting up until he felt the rush of pain run down his stomach; it flowed like a quick wave. Vanakis noticed the bandages and cloth wrapped around his torso. Someone had patched him up. Someone found him in time, but who? He was in the middle of the jungle on a deserted world.

  “Sleeping Beauty is finally awake.”