Eye of the Tiger: A Paranormal Space Opera Adventure (Star Justice Book 1)

by Michael-Scott Earle

  I charged the other men with their leader’s body shielding me.

  One arbalist to the right took a shot when his commander began to scream in wet horror. The bolt went wide over my head. As I took three more steps, a second weapon twanged, sinking a quarrel into the back of the commander and choking off his cry.

  Four more steps and I had made it to the left of the semicircle. A few more bolts whispered past my head as the soldiers tried to kill me without injuring their commander. They should not have bothered trying to spare him. He would die when I finished with them.

  The left most soldier tried to draw his sword. His palm had hardly brushed the hilt when I pushed my pointer and middle fingers together and drove them through his eyeball and into his brain. He had a dagger, but to draw and throw the weapon I would have to spin around the body of their commander, temporarily exposing myself to potential crossbow quarrels. These men seemed inept, so I decided to gamble and drew the long dagger out of the dying man's belt before tossing it.

  The dagger left my hand at a poor angle, but it somehow corrected itself in midflight like a sparrow and took the final arbalist in the shoulder. The blade sunk into his armor as if it were made of cloth. My target had not expected the toss or the pain in his crossbow-bearing arm. Surprise caused him to pull the trigger and launch the bolt accidentally toward my new companions. I couldn't spare a glance in their direction, but I didn't hear a scream, so I guessed the quarry had not found a living target.

  Four of them were left, not including the dying commander I clutched with my right hand, and the one who wouldn't be using his shoulder anymore. The soldier a few steps from me began fishing for his sword, so I pushed the commander's body toward him with as much strength as my weak body allowed. He flew like a small stone, and both of them tumbled backward. The receiving soldier's left foot caught a tree root and he landed with a wet sounding crunch.

  The man who had accepted the commander's heavy crossbow before the battle started frantically tried to drop one of his weapons and fire at me with the other. I sprung toward him, light on my feet because I had tossed my body shield, and angled a slashing kick downward against his leg. My left shin connected above his right kneecap where the muscles formed a teardrop shape. I heard a satisfying snap and tear as the leg separated from the tendons and muscles that held the joint together. The force of my kick also carried through to his left leg, and he flipped over my cutting shin kick and dropped head first onto the wet jungle floor.

  The last two soldiers stood twenty yards from me with their trembling swords drawn. Without speaking, they each fell back a few steps toward the edge of the jungle and away from Paug and his friends. I guessed from their facial expressions and the glances they made over their shoulders that they considered fleeing into the jungle.

  The man whose leg I had broken lay screaming at my feet, so I bent down and pulled the longer sword from his sheath. He reached his hands after mine to stop me, but I smacked his weak arms aside before I freed the blade. The weapon fit well in my hand, but was a bit light, like a toy. Suddenly a brief memory shattered my concentration.

  I stood upon a hill overlooking a grand valley. Thousands of soldiers, clothed in animal-shaped armor, mounting red banners, stood at attention. I walked down the slope and into their ranks. Some of the men and women had their helmet visors lifted; their faces were sunken, angry, and eager for violence. I yelled a command and the masses screamed with feral intensity. The flags had giant skulls on them and they twisted and snapped in the sharp, cutting wind.

  I shook my head when my memory was interrupted by another screech. I flicked my wrist downward and let the blade of the sword bite into his brain through his skull. Then I tensed my wrist a fraction of a second later to bring the blade back up and silence the man's screams. I stepped over his body and walked toward the last standing men.

  The remaining soldiers looked like cornered rats, so I took my time and closed the distance between us with a slow stroll. My feet were still bare and crushed the rocks, moss, leaves, and damp earth beneath them, just as I was about to pulverize the life from the man before me. This soldier seemed to be the youngest of the bunch, and I inhaled the sickly scent of fear on him and heard his heart beat faster than Paug's. The man hadn’t expected this outcome, but we both knew at this moment that I was going to destroy him. Our eyes made contact, and I read his feint before he tried to make a small cut, pull back, and thrust into me.

  My blade swung out to meet his like he expected. He pulled back at the last second and my sword went wide, leaving me open. He dove forward with a thrust aimed at my midsection, but the flat side of the blade glided against the palm of my hand and I pushed the sword wide. His eyes opened in shock as he realized I had read his feint. My relaxed blade swung back with precision and I took the top half of his head off with a horizontal cut. His eyes darted around the jungle frantically while his body toppled. His brain hadn’t realized it was missing its top half and may have tried to send interrupted commands to the rest of his body.

  My left hand grabbed along the blade of the falling man’s sword, and I flipped the pommel into my palm as I turned around to face the last attacker. He dropped his sword and kneeled as I walked toward him. His hands went on top of his head and he started pleading with me. I didn't like the balance of the sword in my left hand so I left the blade buried in his chest.

  I surveyed the clearing for any more opponents capable of attacking. I had not expected to live through such an assault, but these men proved so unskilled that even in my frail state they were easier to kill than the bugs in the tunnel. I shook my head in disappointment before sliding my sword through the neck of the one who had the dagger buried in his shoulder. Once his annoying cries of agony were silenced I made my way over to the last living soldier.

  He had pushed his commander's body off and clawed at the ground to scoot away from me. My sword cut the strap attaching his helmet to his skull and I smacked it off with the flat side of the blade. Then I grabbed onto the thick, oily hair on his head and dragged him back across the wet mud to Paug's companions while he kicked and screamed. Perhaps they would want to question him. The small group hadn't moved from their position on the ground in front of the entrance to the tunnel. They surveyed the massacre with fear and shock.

  "Do you want to talk to him before I kill him?" I asked Paug. I put the edge of my sword to the soldier's neck and he started to say frantic things in the unfamiliar language.

  Greykin got off his knees with a grunt and began to ask the soldier questions. The man replied with hysterical passion, but the words were still intelligible. Nadea further interrogated him before Iarin had his turn. They each stared at me in fearful awe after they finished their questions. Jessmei's skin was white and I wondered if it was her normal hue or if she was about to faint. I guessed that the young woman had not seen many battles.

  After a few minutes they had finished with their questioning.

  "What did they ask him?" I yelled to Paug. He didn't respond immediately and I realized he had sprinted a few dozen yards away from the group to vomit. He also must have been unused to combat.

  "More?" I asked Greykin, wondering if the older man would understand me. He shrugged his shoulders, so I drew the sword across my captive’s neck and held his head while he bled out. My companions gasped in horror and started to yell, but they didn't move toward me. I regarded them with a raised eyebrow. They couldn't possibly wish to keep this man alive. He had tried to kill them and would be of little use as a prisoner.

  When he stopped struggling I let go of his hair and pulled the weapon belt off of his body. Then I walked over to the other corpses and began to organize their weapons into piles. The commander had the best sword, an ornate affair that appeared to be better crafted and a bit heavier than the others. I tied his belt across my robe before I grabbed the next best sword and attached it on the other hip. I gathered the five best balanced daggers and attached them to another belt I slung over my shoul
der. The work occupied me for ten minutes or so, and put my mind at ease. Had I done this before? The familiarity of the task helped to relax my nerves.

  My companions spoke a short distance away from me. They sounded angry as they argued amongst themselves. I couldn't understand them so I didn't bother devoting any energy to trying.

  I contemplated taking a pair of boots from one of the corpses before I realized the robe I wore wasn't very good for traveling. The soft, thin shroud was wet with mud, water, and blood. These dead men weren't wearing any travel gear, so their camp had to be within walking distance. One of the corpses had a pair of leather boots that I guessed would fit, so I sat on a nearby rock and tied them around my bare feet.

  While sitting, I noticed the trail through the jungle the soldiers had used to find us. I looked back at my companions and saw them involved in a passionate discussion. Nadea and Greykin were arguing. Paug had returned to them from his vomiting break, but his back was to me. They did not seem to be paying any attention to me or the trail, so I debated my next action. I needed Paug to learn this language, but I did not need to know any of the decisions the group would make in the next few minutes.

  I set off down the trail at a comfortable jog. The soldiers' campsite would be close by, and once I reached it I could acquire pants, socks, and maybe a horse. I could hear and smell Paug, so I didn't have any doubt I would find him again after I obtained some gear. As I ran, the energy of the sun, earth, and water invigorated me.

  I was not tired anymore.

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  Lion’s Quest: Undefeated

  Chapter 1

  I always cherished the silence before a death match. It was the time for me to dump my thoughts, seek memories of my previous matches, review my game plan, and think about my parents. I wasn’t really into all the New Age positive-thinking self-help bullshit, but the silent moments had always helped me with these high-stake duels.

  The clock on the wall dinged, and the doors to my locker room opened to the tsunami of my entourage. Seven men swarmed over me as if I were a magnet. Two were my trainers, two were my bodyguards, two were my best friends, and the last was my cornerman; Dini Hayes. He muscled his way to me first.

  “My man! Champ! Champ! How you feeling?” Dini’s weathered face wore a big smile when he asked the question.

  “You just saw me ten minutes ago.” I felt a smile come to my lips, and the man began to rub my shoulders.

  “I know, Champ, and I missed ya for ten minutes. Your muscles feel good. You’ve got power in them! Powaaah! Gonna take this fool out! No one beats the Champ! You hear me? No one!”

  “Thirty seconds!” one of the studio executives yelled at me from the doorway of the locker room. He was one of the corp suit types. Complete with slicked-back hair, a fake smile, dead eyes, and a suit that cost more than most people’s yearly rent.

  “You’ve got this, Leo.” My best friend, Garf rested his hands on my arm. “Gonna be easy mode.”

  “Pew, pew, QQ for the entire nation of Korea, bro. This guy’s going to commit seppuku after you curb stomp him.” Jax was my other best friend, and he laughed as he sat on the locker room bench next to me.

  “That’s Japan, bro.” Garf rolled his eyes at my other friend.

  “So? You’ll kick this guy’s ass so bad he’ll turn Japanese, and then he’ll commit suicide with a katana through his stomach.” Jax made an exaggerated motion with his arms across his stomach as if he was cleaving himself with an invisible sword, or he was rowing a canoe. His long blond hair swung around wildly with the motion.

  “Dude, that is so fucking wrong,” Garf put his hand over his face and sighed. “Koreans and Japanese are totally different, and you don’t commit seppuku with a katana, it is a long sword. You use a tanto.” Garf actually was Korean, or at least, his great grandparents migrated over in like the 1980’s or something. He was more American than anything else, but I knew enough about Asian cultures from playing their video games and watching their TV shows to understand that you didn’t get the two ethnicities mixed up.

  “Tanto? Isn’t that the guy with the Lone Ranger?” Jax asked with a bemused smile.

  “Ten seconds!” Mr. McPlasticCorpman yelled from the doors, and he opened them to reveal the long hallway leading to the stadium.

  The roar of the crowd sounded like the song of all the oceans amplified a hundred times.

  “Robe on!” Calic, my physical trainer, shouted as I rose from the bench.

  The thick, pure white, velvet shroud fell over my body, and Calic took his turn to pat me on the shoulders. He was quite possibly the most muscular black man on the planet, but I supposed that was expected since he was also one of the best muscle and movement coaches in the United States. He was a man of few words, though, and he said nothing else as the entourage walked out of the locker room and toward the stadium.

  The roar of the hungry crowd was even louder in the concrete tunnel, and a dozen cameramen sprinted toward me from the open area of the stadium.

  “Leeee Ohhhh!” The chanting filled my mind to euphoria.

  “Leeee Ohhhh!” I breathed in strength and felt my muscles flex as I walked.

  “Leeee Ohhhh!” The cameras were on my face now, but I walked through them, and the lenses parted like the Red Sea.

  “Leeee Ohhhh!” The stadium lights were turned off so that the crowd could get pumped for my arrival. As soon as I walked out of the locker room corridor, the air filled with explosive fireworks, laser light shows, and a deafening siren wail of electric guitar music.

  The crowded stadium went insane.

  I almost wished that I had worn earplugs. The sound was a few notches below deafening, and I struggled to keep from wincing. I’d dealt with much worse pain in my life, and I managed to keep my trademark smirk glued to my face.

  I raised my fists in the air, and the crowd’s intensity almost boiled over.

  “Leeee Ohhhh!”

  “Leeee Ohhhh!”

  I felt Dini tug on my robe, and I continued my walk of forty yards toward the center of the stadium. There was the digitally lit battle ring, and the two omni stations where my opponent and I would battle for dominance.

  The ravenous crowd reached out their arms in my direction, but the tunnel was too wide for anyone to touch me, and the sides of the path were lined with armed security dressed in riot gear. A few women somehow managed to scream my name over the din, and I saw some of them raise their shirts to show me their breasts. I was able to ignore them, however, and even a sprinkling of a dozen panties didn’t distract me from walking to the center of the stadium.

  Jin Eun Kyung was already in the battle ring, and he had an entourage of eight men and three women standing behind him. The championship officials were also there, and they gestured for me to stand in my spot, exactly two feet away from the Korean challenger.

  Hands pulled my robe off, and I felt a bunch of palms smack me on the back. I stood now only in my skintight Omni suit, and the crowd’s roar had subsided a bit so that the officials could begin.

  My eyes met Jin’s, and I studied the man. Perhaps ‘man’ wasn’t the correct word. He was little more than a kid. He was only nineteen years old and had apparently bragged to his nation that he would enjoy his first alcoholic beverage after he took my title. Even though he was young, his body was made of mahogany, and his Omni suit hugged his muscles as if it was painted on.

  The material of his suit was as white as the robe Dini had pulled away from my shoulders and had the Korean yin-yang flag symbol painted on his che
st. My own suit was black, and I had the stars and stripes on my back.

  Jin was as old as I was when I first became world champion.

  The announcer’s voice caught my attention. He had already introduced Jin, but the audience didn’t need much of a reminder. The Korean was something of a phenomenon and had come out of nowhere late last year. He’d flawlessly defeated every international opponent in the last year. Even Ivan Tsatsouline, who had been Russia’s champion, and my top rival, for the last three years.

  “In the red corner; standing at six feet and two inches, and weighing in at two hundred pounds even. Returning for his tenth world championship title, in his own hometown New York City! In the Bronx! The reigning World Champion of Astafar Unlimited! The One. The Only. The Master. The Victorious. The Undefeated. Leo, The Lion, Lennox!”

  Now I did wince as the crowd screamed my name. They had upgraded the old Yankee Stadium to fit in more people, and Astafar Unlimited had decided to hold the World Championships here, partially because of the new and improved stadium and partially because I had grown up in the Bronx, and they figured it would get more people to come to the event at a higher ticket price.

  They were correct. There must have been over a hundred thousand people in the stadium, and the seating area climbed the sky like a tidal wave of rainbow sparkling water. Earlier this year they had thought about renaming Yankee Stadium after me. No one really played baseball anymore, and the last memories of the sport were long forgotten. The New York mayor had asked me if I wanted the honor, but I had declined. My father had once spun me the tales of the old game. I didn’t feel as if I deserved to take the name from the city landmark.

  The announcer gestured to the line between Jin and me. We stepped up to it and shook hands. The man was a hothead, and I wasn’t surprised when he pushed his chest against mine.

  "Lions make their women hunt for them. Your career will be over in a few minutes,” he hissed as he pushed his nose against mine and glared into my eyes.