Star Runners 2: Revelation Protocol

by L. E. Thomas

  Josh opened his eyes. He leaned against the canopy, staring down at the brown and blue planet. The fighter didn’t have updated star charts, so Josh couldn’t even verify his location. He knew it was somewhere within the Amade Cluster, but the planet had no name on this chart.

  But after spending so much time on an asteroid and not seeing the sky or breathing fresh air, the toilet bowl planet had been a pleasant change.

  “It wasn’t so bad,” Josh said quietly.

  “No?” Waylon grumbled, sounding as if he had nearly fallen asleep. “You want to go back?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “By the way, you have my gratitude.”

  “Yeah? For what?”

  “Coming back. I have to admit it; I saw your fighter disappear over the horizon with that pirate on your tail and I wondered for a moment if I would spend my last hours wandering an empty planet.”

  Josh smiled and nodded. “We’re a team.”

  He played with the navigation computer. This fighter’s last location had been in the middle of an asteroid belt in the nearby Zine System. It had to be the location of the main Tyral Base where they were before, but having the location was one thing and having a force to attack it was another.

  The curvature drive beeped. The power cells had charged and they reached their full power.

  “Okay, we’re ready to roll,” Josh said. “You ready?”

  “I was ready last month. Just go.”

  Josh activated the curve. The space wavered around them. Colors surrounded the ship. He eased into the curve, feeling his stomach drop and twist. Dizziness surrounded him like a whirlpool, but faded as quickly as it started. The space normalized around the fighter.

  Josh exhaled, relieved the curvature drive on this fighter had actually passed through a curve. “Okay, we’re through.

  Josh eased back on the throttle and did a star chart check.

  “Verifying our location,” Josh said. “We’re in the Tormada System. It’s a binary star system with four planetary bodies. Tell me where to go.”

  “I know where we are.” Waylon—and his smell—returned to pressing on his back. “Third moon of the fourth planet.”

  Josh nodded. “Heading there now.”

  “Hand me that headset.”

  Josh passed it back. “Tell me what to do.”

  “Once we get into orbit with the moon, I’ll contact my people.” He laughed. “Of course, they might not be there.”

  Josh frowned. “Seriously?”

  “You never know.”

  Josh brought the fighter into orbit with the third moon. The fourth planet loomed to his right; a yellowish giant gas planet.

  “Okay, ease into orbit,” Waylon said. “Change your frequency to four-zero-five and we’ll see what happens.”

  “You sound worried.”

  “You’re flying an unknown fighter into Barracuda territory. You’re damn right I’m worried.”

  Josh eased back on the throttle. He hadn’t thought of what it would look like to the other Barracudas at their base. Waylon had offered his services to help take out the Tyral Pirate base. Josh hadn’t asked for many details back when they were prisoners in that farming compound, but he assumed Waylon’s smuggling group had dealt with the pirates before. Otherwise, why would Waylon be certain the other smugglers would want to help?

  “Waylon?”

  “Yeah.”

  Josh chose his words carefully. “We never decided on how we were going to do this.”

  “Do what?”

  “You said we needed to get off the planet before we decided how to counterattack.” Josh shrugged. “We’re off the planet.”

  Waylon grumbled. “I see.”

  Josh waited. “Well?”

  “Taking out the Tyral Base will help our operations, so I don’t think we’ll have much trouble convincing my people.”

  “I thought you were their commander?”

  “I’m their boss, but I can’t order them to launch an attack. We’re businessmen. Sure we can take care of ourselves, but we’re not soldiers.”

  “I see.” Josh’s stomach dropped. “Well, thanks in advance for checking. I appreciate it.”

  “Sure. If it were up to me, I’d kill every one of the pirates. Would love to start with Rodon if I could.”

  The tension on his chest eased. He had to put his faith in Waylon. He owed him that much after the man risked his life to set the grasslands on fire. Now it was his turn to place faith.

  “Transmit,” Waylon said.

  Josh complied, pressing the button. “You are live.”

  “Dinner is cooking. It’s going to be larba stew tonight. I repeat, larba stew with too much salt.”

  Static met the message. Waylon repeated it. Josh shook his head. This is crazy, he thought.

  “We copy boss,” a voice cut through the static. “We are hungry.”

  Waylon slapped his hands together. “Alright! Welcome to Sanctum!”

  He grabbed Josh’s shoulders hard enough the fighter drifted off course.

  “Let’s land and grab some dinner—some real dinner!”

  Josh’s stomach growled at the mention of dinner.

  “Tell me where to land.”

  *****

  Amidst a cavern of rock outcroppings stretching down from the ceiling thirty feet above the floor, Josh devoured his first taste of real meat in months. The bowl of meat stew disappeared in a matter of minutes. An older man with a white beard offered a second bowl, saying something in a language Josh couldn’t understand. Since his translator needed charging, Josh accepted without saying a word.

  The moon’s gray rocky surface looked like the edge of a volcano. Waylon had directed him to a large canyon in the northern hemisphere. As they had passed over the surface, Josh saw no plant life or water of any kind. When the canyon came to an end, they passed through a cavern opening. The subterranean Barracuda compound Waylon called Sanctum took up several caves including a hangar large enough for half a dozen Trident fighters. That is, of course, if this smuggling group could afford a spacecraft as extravagant as a Legion Trident. From what Josh had seen on the way in, most of the equipment seemed to be pieced together with metal fragments.

  A team of sixteen men and four women had welcomed them before sitting down to dine on the meat stew at a long table. The aroma filled the room, saturating the rags he passed off for clothing. Waylon showed emotion Josh had never seen when he reunited with the crew. The large man embraced each and every member of the crew, holding each of them close for long moments at a time. Tears fell freely as the crew swept Josh aside. He didn’t mind.

  Josh started on the second bowl of stew when Waylon made his way to his table. Waylon smiled, revealing his yellowed teeth behind the bushy beard of red curled hair. The grin softened as he stared at all of them. His gaze fell to the floor.

  “Anjeun kudu penerjemah hiji? Oh.” Waylon handed him a charged translator.

  Josh popped his translator back in his ear. “Don’t tell them, yet,” he said quietly. “They’ll ask soon enough.”

  Waylon nodded, his gaze focusing on nothing.

  “How did you find this place?” Josh asked, trying to change the subject.

  “My wife’s father started the Barracudas and found it on a scouting mission long before I met Tyra,” he said, his voice monotone. “We don’t know who built this. They were gone long before we got here. They’ve never come back, so we’ve made it home.”

  “It’s impressive,” Josh said, staring at the rocky ceiling.

  “I love it here.”

  A spoon tapped on the one piece of glass at the front of the table. At the end of the long table, the older man who had served the meat stew stood and grinned.

  “Waylon,” he said, his voice soft and gentle like a grandfather, “I think I speak for all of us when I say we are glad to have you back. You have been missed.”

  “Thank you, Pa. Thank you.”

  Josh held his breath, kn
owing what would come next.

  “What happened, Waylon? Where are the others? Drexel? Gate? Acks?” Pa held his hands outward. “Are they on another ship? Should we go get them?”

  Waylon held up his hand and slowly stood. He suddenly looked much older as if gravity pulled at his face. After exhaling a long breath, Waylon launched into the story. He recounted their capture by Dax Rodon and the Tyral Pirates. Skipping over some of the more gruesome aspects of their captivity, Waylon explained their hard labor from mining to stripping freighters to tilling the ground on the unnamed planet. When he came to the farm, his speech became labored and shaky. He told of the abuse, discussed the management of Cyclops, and, finally, as if he tried to avoid coming to this part in the story, he discussed the deaths of his men. The group stopped eating, then they stopped moving.

  And they cried.

  The men comforted the crying women and children. Josh stared at the bowl, his appetite disappearing like a lit match on a beach. He listened as the group consoled one another. He stayed quiet in the corner, watching this family deal with the worst possible news.

  A large man sat across the table from Josh. He showed none of the emotion of the rest of the Barracudas. A foot-long knife hung at his belt on one side. A pistol was tucked into a holster at the other side.

  “I should have been there,” the man grumbled, rubbing his black beard.

  Josh shifted in his seat. “You wouldn’t have wanted to be there.”

  “How do you know what I want?”

  Josh frowned. “You’re alive. Being a captive of the Tyral Pirates is no way to live.”

  The man leaned over the table. “Name’s Tocol.”

  “I’m Josh.”

  “Where you from Josh?”

  “Earth.”

  “Been there once,” Tocol said, sipping on a drink from a metal container. “Didn’t take.”

  “Maybe you didn’t visit the right part of it.”

  “Picked up a package in the snow on one of the poles. I can’t even remember what it was.” He shrugged. “Just a job in a lifetime of jobs.”

  “I’ve never been to the poles.”

  “So what did you do?”

  Josh thought a moment. “I’m a Legion Star Runner.”

  “I know that much.” Tocol took another drink. “I meant before your days with the Legion.”

  “I’ll try to think that far back.” Josh nodded, staring into the bowl. “I was a student. I played football.”

  Tocol laughed. “Football? Putting my foot on a ball doesn’t sound like any game I’d want to play.”

  For the first time since he’s arrival, Josh laughed. “Put that way, I don’t want to play either.”

  A small woman carrying a metal lunchbox walked up to him. She placed the box on the table and opened it. Pulling out a bandage and a spray can, she stepped over to Josh.

  “For your ear,” she said in a high-pitched voice.

  “Oh, okay,” Josh said. He leaned forward. “Do you want me to, ah, lean forward or something?”

  “Just going to clean it up.” She sprayed his ear, filling the air with the smell of alcohol.

  “Yow.” Josh clenched his teeth.

  “Oh, come on,” Tocol said. “Be a man.”

  “Almost done,” the woman said. “I’m Matta.”

  “Oh.” Josh winced. “Josh.”

  “I know.” She placed the spray can on the table and attached the bandage on his ear. Pressing it gently to his ear, she smiled. “Who did this to you?”

  Josh closed his eyes, ignoring the pain flashing through his body. “Pirate pilot.”

  “Did you get him?” Tocol sneered.

  “We got him.” Josh nodded.

  The sound of a radio squawked through the cavern.

  “Ah, everybody,” a voice crackled over an intercom system embedded in the rock, “the Traveler has landed. We need some help with unloading.”

  Waylon wiped his face and stood. He took two steps toward the end of cavern and stopped. Josh followed his gaze.

  “You’re back,” Waylon said.

  A woman in a gray one-piece mechanics coverall stood at the entrance. Her hair folded like strips of dried brow rope under a small cap. Grease smeared across her smiling face. Her eyes filled to the brim.

  Josh leaned close to Tocol. “Who is that?”

  “His wife, Tyra.”

  Josh stared at Waylon.

  “I thought you were dead,” the woman said.

  Waylon placed his hand over his mouth. “Tyra.”

  A young boy stood at her thigh. He stared into the room, his eyes wide.

  “Daddy!”

  Waylon embraced his family as the rest of the Barracudas watched. Josh watched the man he spent months around, the man he didn’t really know. Waylon kissed Tyra on the forehead and rubbed the boy’s hair.

  “I’d like you to meet someone,” Waylon said, pointing at Josh. “This is my friend. He helped me escape.”

  “We helped each other,” Josh said.

  Tyra stared at him and smiled. She walked toward him slowly, taking off her hat. Her hair tumbled around her shoulders. Her chin quivered.

  “And your name?” she asked.

  “I’m Josh, ma’am.”

  “Ma’am?” She turned back to Waylon, a playful smile on her face. “It’s just plain Tyra around here. And you are most welcome to join us.”

  Waylon held the boy high, wrapping him around his shoulders. The boy giggled. “This here is my son Cornic, but we call him Scrappy.”

  The group sat back at the table. Pa offered Josh another bowl of soup. By the end of this one, Josh’s stomach grumbled and turned over. He leaned back into his seat and burped. Josh listened to the Barracudas talk about business and events around Quadrant Eight. Tyra had returned from a delivery of livestock, apparently for a significant profit. The others talked of Tyral Pirate attacks, new Legion trade regulations and the Zahl-Legion cold war. The talk lingered on the politics and events, but dipped into personal discussions as the group brought Waylon up to speed on the personal happenings of the smuggling group.

  For a long moment, Josh felt he sat around the family dinner table. A calmness fell over him. Of course, it might have been the effect of the first full stomach he had enjoyed in months. He felt light headed and happy. It was a moment from his past, a moment he knew couldn’t last.

  An hour passed. Tyra cleared the plates with her son. The conversation slackened, replaced by grunts and sighs signifying full stomachs.

  Waylon stood, taking a slow drink from something that looked like a thermos. “Okay, Josh, I need to make some introductions.”

  He stood behind three of the largest men in the room. “This is Tocol, who I think you’ve met. These are his brothers Moda and Drad.”

  The men nodded.

  “And what do they do?” Josh asked.

  Waylon glanced at them. “Besides eat a lot, they help convince other businessmen to, well, accept our deal.” He pointed to a petite woman at the end of the table. Two men sat on either side of the woman. “That’s Matta, a great pilot. Her brother, Lark, also a pilot. And Rist, who claims to be a pilot.”

  “Funny,” Rist said, rubbing the stubble on his face.

  “Nice to meet you all,” Josh said with a smile.

  “I wish we could say the same,” Rist said, glaring at Josh.

  Waylon slapped the table. “This is a friendly place, Rist. Josh is our guest.”

  “I know that!” Rist snapped. “I also know a Star Runner wouldn’t be here unless he was desperate.” He stared at Josh. “When are you going to get to the point? Why are you here and what do you want?”

  “We were captured and we escaped together!” Waylon yelled. “And you will stop with this questioning.”

  “It’s okay, Waylon. I understand.” Josh cleared his throat and stood on shaky legs at the end of the table. “I’d like to say something, if you wouldn’t mind.”

  Waylon waved forward. “You ar
e welcome to say whatever you want.” He eyed Rist. “You are one of us now.”

  Josh’s face warmed. “Thank you. That means a lot. I want to ask for your help.”

  “How so?” Pa asked.

  “I need to attack the main Tyral base.”

  Laughter echoed around the hall.

  “And I’d like a golden chamber pot!” Tocol yelled.

  Waylon held his hand high.

  “Let him finish.” He looked at Josh. “Go ahead.”

  “We know Rodon plans to attack a dark world, so most of his forces are probably massed somewhere else. We found a way station on the planet where we were held captive. This would allow the pirates to strike deep into the rear of the Legion worlds.”

  “Yeah,” Rist grumbled, “what’s that got to do with us?”

  “I know you have been dealing with the pirates the same as the Legion,” Josh said, feeling suddenly as if he treaded water. “If they expand their base of operations, if they continue to utilize this support from wherever they are getting it and take an entire world for their use, they will be unstoppable and you will be out of business. We have the location of their main base on the fighter we stole. We know where they are. We just have to get to them.”

  Silence hung over the table like smog. Some people looked at one another. Others stared at the table.

  “He’s right,” Waylon said, his eyes locking with Josh’s. “And what about our men they killed? My men … are we just going to let them die in vain? Are we going to let Rodon think he can prey on these space lanes forever?”

  “But we could lose everything if we attack,” Rist said.

  “And we could lose everything if we do nothing, Rist.” Waylon stood to his full height and towered over the table. “I for one don’t want to sit around and let these pirates rule over our destiny any longer than we have to.”

  Slowly, nods spread around the table. Waylon grinned and placed his hands on the table.

  “Yes,” Tocol whispered, glancing at the others around the table. “Yes.”

  Waylon looked at the rest of the group and nodded. “We’re with you, Star Runner,” he said, his voice deep. “When do we leave?”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The corridor shook. The lights flickered and a second shockwave rocked his feet. He kicked through the frigid water now down to his shins. Austin thought of the thousands of feet of water between Atlantis and the ocean’s surface.