Space Knight

by Samuel E. Green

  We circled each other, and the way my opponent feigned a few slashes convinced me he could use the axe with precision. He was playing with me, trying to make me think this would be an easy fight. It was an old trick I’d been subjected to many times at the Academy, and I wasn’t falling for it.

  However, I had my own tricks. This thug hadn’t seen me use my longsword’s rune effect yet. So, I figured I’d surprise him.

  “Working with Gregory will make good use of your Academy training,” the thug said. “You can still put down your sword and come with me. No need to lose your life.”

  “I’ll never work for Gregory. I’m a servant of the Queen.”

  “I used to say the same thing, back when I was a knight.”

  “But you’re an Outlander,” I said.

  I wouldn’t normally have prolonged a conversation with a guy who was a few moves away from killing me, but I’d never met any other Outlanders in the RTF. Well, this guy had left the RTF to work for a rebel, so he was the worst kind of scum. He was a traitor to the Queen and a traitor to the kingdom.

  The ex-knight smirked. “So are you, and you entered the RTF, didn’t you? Look, you throw down your sword and this will all be over.” I sensed something wasn’t right when the ex-knight’s eyes glanced away for a fraction of a second.

  The thug screamed and charged me with his axe. He was too quick for me to maneuver my blade into a forcewave attack, and all I could do was bring the weapon in front of me to block his axe’s double-edged blade.

  He cracked me with a headbutt, and my vision peppered with white spots. I pushed him away with the flat of my blade, swung the point around, but missed his chest. My vision was still swimming, and I heard him laugh as my eyes found their focus.

  We were only two meters apart. Too close for me to release a forcewave.

  “Good to see the Academy is still training its cadets well,” the ex-knight said. “I recognize those sword forms. Sergeant Myers gave you some tips, did he?”

  I scowled at the mention of the dead sergeant. This traitor had no right to even say the name. I swallowed back my anger so I could still think straight.

  I needed four meters for a forcewave, but if I made a step backward, the thug would know something was wrong and he’d charge me. My thoughts were cut short when the ex-knight came at me with all the rage of a berserker. Despite the axe’s apparent heaviness, his attacks produced a flurry of steel and sparks as I blocked them. The cut-off sleeves of his doublet showed bulging arms, and I guessed that my new armor might have a problem protecting me from a successful chop.

  My bruised arms were barely able to keep my weapon upright, but I managed to parry until the man stepped away from me. He was breathing heavily, and I was about to begin my move when the muscular ex-knight started swinging again. His unnatural speed seemed to be caused by whatever runes were etched into his doublet. They couldn’t possibly last forever, but neither could the strength in my arms.

  It was only a matter of time until one of us faltered, and from the agony every block gave me, I figured it would be me.

  My arms didn’t have the strength to land a successful counter, so I had to gain some room to initiate my longsword’s rune effect.

  The massive man drew his axe backward into a grand swing. I ducked under it, and the blade whooshed over my head. My opponent continued spinning, and the axe came back for a second attempt. I only had time to pull my sword in front of me and block the attack, but the force of the blow threw me backward. My grip faltered on my sword, and even my palm rune couldn’t keep it in my hands. My weapon somersaulted through the air as I landed on my ass, and the air ejected from my lungs. Pain lanced up my tailbone while I scrambled to my feet.

  “I’m having a good bit of fun,” the ex-knight said as he inspected the edge of his axe. “You must have been a pretty good cadet. No wonder they call you a hero.” He licked his lips. “But I’m not done yet. Go on, pick up your blade.”

  I grunted and took my sword. The only reason he would have allowed me to arm myself again would be because he thought he had this fight in the bag. I still hadn’t shown my longsword’s Forcewave rune, and now the idiot had given me the distance I needed to pull it off. He was now at least ten meters away, busy laughing at what appeared to be an uneven match.

  I allowed him to come a fraction beyond striking distance before I slashed. A last second tilt of the blade extended my prot-field through the weapon, and I aimed the magic right into the ex-knight’s chest.

  My opponent was running at full-pace when the forcewave hit him, and I heard his bones crunch as his chest compressed beneath the invisible barrier. The impact sent the ex-knight tumbling through the air, and he slammed into the metal wall of a building before hitting the ground. He didn’t move, so I was sure he died as soon as the forcewave crushed his solar plexus like cheap plaster.

  I ran over to the ex-knight’s two-handed axe, grabbed it, and then attached it to the magnetons on the back of my cuirass. I didn’t have time to scan it now. The weapon was probably higher than Squire level, so I could either have it dismantled for Dust or hang onto it for when I was promoted. After seeing his doublet’s rune effect, I wouldn’t have minded taking the item, but it was crumpled from my forcewave attack.

  I searched for any more of Gregory’s henchmen, but the courtyard was empty and deathly quiet. My stomach threatened to empty itself as my breath finally came back to me. I’d killed six men today. Not Grendels. Humans. I’d been defending myself, but I didn’t feel much better about ending the lives of my own kind.

  There was no doubt I’d made a serious enemy in Gregory. I didn’t think these six corpses would be the last of my interactions with the fat man, but at least I’d made a dent in his forces.

  I shook my head in disbelief as I looked at the decimated rug tunnels. The courtyard was now filled with Wayfarer corpses, and there were likely more dead in the buildings. How many of them were women and children? Not a single Wayfarer Gregory’s henchmen had killed deserved to die today. They were innocents caught between a struggle that didn’t involve them one bit.

  Kingdom officials wouldn’t care since it hadn’t been nobles killed in the crossfire. They’d probably chalk it up to gang warfare, send out some generic message of sympathy on the Cube, and do nothing more about it.

  I stared at my bloody weapon. The Longsword of Propulsion worked far better than I’d imagined. The rune effect hadn’t malfunctioned once. It was a testament to Max’s craftsmanship. I owed the enchanter my life. If only the blood soaking my blade had been Grendel blood. I wiped the weapon on one of the rugs as people started leaving the buildings to check out the bloodshed.

  I heard sirens blare from a few blocks away. The injured Wayfarers would soon get the medical attention they needed, but I couldn’t wait around. Kingdom officials might not care about Wayfarer deaths, but law enforcement would still hold me for questioning. I didn’t have time to get involved with the law.

  31:20

  I had enough time to make it to the docks if I hurried, so I made my way through the alleyways, using the flashing sign pointing to the floor’s elevator to guide me. I couldn’t stop my heart from racing, and I glanced over my shoulder a hundred times. When I got into the elevator, I was breathing heavily, and the tunic beneath my cuirass was soaked through with sweat. I pressed the button for the ground floor.

  After today’s events, I was kind of glad to be leaving Bratton. Maybe the Stalwart wouldn’t be too bad of an assignment. The starship might have had a few recent upgrades the kingdom database hadn’t registered, likely since the specifications listed on my prot-belt would have made it almost incapable of spacefaring.

  With almost no time to spare, I disembarked the elevator, jumped into a carriage and told it to take me to the docks after paying the fee.

  Current Kingdom Balance: 2,195

  Total Kingdom Points Earned: 0

  As the metal cart swung through the web of cables, I saw a dozen ships leave th
e platforms and fly into space.

  I hoped none of them were the Stalwart.

  Chapter 6

  To say I was relieved the Stalwart hadn’t left the docks yet would be an understatement. But it was also an understatement to say I was unimpressed by the vessel.

  The Stalwart really was a rust bucket. Each sheet of metal comprising its rounded hull seemed to have once belonged to a different vessel. It was larger than the usual Beluga-class model because of all the wonky modifications.

  Even someone who hadn’t aced the Academy’s examination on starship regulations could see the vessel was breaking at least fifty of them. Inside was probably worse, filled to the brim with non-regulation equipment only one short circuit away from turning it into an old-fashioned microwave. Although it seemed someone brought a massive magnet to a junkyard and compiled the ship, there was some purpose to its construction. All the mismatched parts were once the star items on their respective ships.

  Plasma quarrels, rune lances, and heavy cannons jutted from above a Chrome Cachalot’s twin gravity rings. The engines on the underside were from a few discontinued Omura starships. The RTF stopped making them for a good reason; they were unreliable at the best of times. But when they did work, no vessel could outclass them. And the Stalwart possessed four of them.

  The arcane chamber looked to have been excised from a much larger vessel, probably a Finback carrier. Beluga starships didn’t typically undergo interstellar travel, but with such a powerful hub, the Stalwart wasn’t a typical Beluga. Even now I could see the faint glow of the vast array of runes inside the domed deck. Those runes would be capable of enhancing a ship mage’s power a hundredfold. It was overkill, but then so were many of the hodgepodge parts forming the vessel. Unlike the rest of the ship, the bridge looked surprisingly well-formed. Even so, a fancy bridge didn’t make the Stalwart look any more desirable for a first assignment.

  The platform trembled as a starship’s thruster engines propelled it out from the docks, through the exit tunnels, and into space. I grabbed onto a nearby rail for balance. My arms were sore from the fight, and I was feeling a little tired, but I was eager to get on my first starship, even if it was the Stalwart.

  As I moved through the bustling sailors and merchants, my mind reeled with my near death experiences earlier today. Gregory would learn what I’d done to his men and send more after me. Armed men might even be somewhere on these very docks, searching for me so they could riddle me with bullets. The thugs would have no qualms about killing innocent bystanders. They’d murdered dozens of innocent Wayfarers, and I felt guilty for those caught in the crossfire. Their families would be mourning the deaths of their loved ones while I set into space aboard the Stalwart.

  “Excuse me,” a gruff voice said.

  My hand flashed to my sword hilt as I turned. I half-expected to see a group of Gregory’s henchmen. Instead, a short man in woolen robes peered up at me. His face was hidden beneath the cowl, but wisps of blonde hair sprung from his chin.

  “You are Squire Nicholas Lyons?” he asked.

  “Who’s asking?”

  “I am of no importance, but the one who sent me wishes to give you something.”

  I was still edgy from before, so when the short man reached into his coat, I jumped back a little. My hands wrapped around my sword, and the blade was almost out of its scabbard when the man held out an electronic device in a quivering hand.

  “I mean you no harm!” he whispered loudly as he waved the device in my face. “The sorcerer sent me! You’ll need this to speak with him while you’re on board the Stalwart.”

  “The sorcerer?” I frowned for a moment and then slid my sword back into its scabbard. No one around the ship seemed to have noticed I’d been a half-second away from skewering the robed man.

  I should have remembered I’d be secretly reporting to Silvester Polgar, and I would need some means of communicating with him.

  “I’m sorry,” I said to the hooded man. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. It’s been a long day.”

  The messenger swallowed audibly and gave me a single nod. I took the device from him and examined it. It appeared to be a long-range communicator used to provide instantaneous communication over long distances. The rarity and power of the item meant the duke considered this mission of the utmost importance. Apart from my strange mutation, I didn’t have any mage powers to activate the device, so Silvester Polgar would be the one calling me.

  “The sorcerer will contact you at 6:00 Caledonian Universal Time,” the short man said as though reading my thoughts. “He wishes to advise you that, should you refuse to answer the call, he will resort to corrective measures.”

  The message sounded like something the sorcerer would say. I’d only met him twice, but I knew he wasn’t a man I wanted to cross.

  I examined the device some more, turning it over in my hands. It was egg-shaped and made from a shiny metal. There were no visible runes on its surface, but I knew they had to be there. They’d probably illuminate when the sorcerer wanted to communicate with me. It would be awkward if he called while I was with the crew, defeating the purpose of a covert mission. I’d need to ensure I was alone every day at 6:00 CUT, no matter the local time. I looked up to thank the robed man, but he was already walking through the crowd.

  With a long sigh, I pocketed the device in my belt pouch and made my way up the Stalwart’s ramp. As I got closer to the makeshift vessel, I could see the spots where the various parts of the starship had been welded together. It looked like even more of a junkyard save than I originally thought, and I hoped the messy weldings were strong enough to hold while it sailed through space.

  “Who the hell are you?” a voice barked from within the ship. The steady clanking of boots on steel drummed as a red-bearded man stormed up to me.

  “Squire Nicholas Lyons,” I said, meeting the man’s golden eyes.

  The man was at least a foot taller than me, his shoulders were almost twice as wide, and his arms were bigger than my legs. The bulky power armor he wore suggested he fought on the frontlines. I was surprised to see a crewmember wearing Runetech armor outside of the battlefield, but this man scowled like he never left the field. I looked down at the sigil of twin axes on his coat and realized he was a berserker knight.

  “You’re the squire?” he spat. “As if we didn’t have enough work to do, now we’re meant to be raising greenhorns?” He blew back his red mohawk from his eyes and swigged a water drum. The strong odor of cheap ale wafted from his breath.

  “Yes, sir. I’ve been assigned to your vessel.”

  “The Stalwart isn’t any good for you. Ask for some other ship.” The knight turned and started walking up the ramp.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m not going anywhere,” I said, and the knight spun to snarl at me. “I’ve been assigned to the Stalwart. I intend to complete my tour.” Although my voice was steady, my knees were shaking, and I tried to relax them so the knight wouldn’t notice. I’d been warned at the Academy not to get on the wrong side of berserkers. Their combat experience made them volatile, and my first impression of this man confirmed it.

  “You’re a stubborn prick, aren’t you?” The knight’s scowl turned into a grin. Then he marched over to me and whacked me on the back. He rocked his head back and laughed like a hyena. “I’ve changed my mind. I like you!”

  “Uhhh--” I started to say, but then the man’s eyes narrowed as he looked at my cuirass.

  “Is that blood?” he asked as he looked at drops across my armor. They must have gotten there from the fight with Gregory’s goons.

  “Yes, sir. I--”

  “Did you kill them all?” His grin grew wider, and his eyes opened with excitement.

  “Yes, sir. I--”

  “Did they scream? I love it when they scream.” The man’s massive hands closed around my shoulders, and I somehow felt his grip through my armor. I winced as my injuries made themselves known, and the knight’s grin seemed to deepen. “Get a few
bruises, did you? Well, it’s good to see you gave it right back to them. A man hits you, you hit back twice as hard. He pulls out his sword, you make sure you lop his head off before he can swing the thing.” He burst into laughter and released my shoulder.

  I was going to be sharing a starship with a madman.

  “Come on board, Lyons. I want to hear about these men you murdered.”

  “I didn’t really murder--”

  “Shut your mouth, and don’t talk until I ask you to.” The crazed man’s smile vanished, and he shoved me up the ramp. We crossed through the cargo hold where fifteen-meter containers were being loaded onto the ship. I figured they were probably whatever we’d be delivering on our humanitarian missions. Food, medical supplies, water filters, and various shelters.

  I followed the mohawked berserker through passageways with bulkheads so narrow he sometimes turned sideways. There were other crew members around, but few of them spared me more than a second glance. Those who did smirked at me as though I’d stepped into a world of trouble.

  The knight stopped outside a very narrow doorway. “Your quarters are inside here.”

  I nodded at him and then stepped forward to the entry, but the man suddenly grabbed my shoulder. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “I was about to step--” I began, but he laughed and waved his arm in front of the sensor. The doors opened, and the crazy knight bowed and held his arm out in a mockery of hospitality.

  I entered the dark room, and the motion-sensor lights flickered for a few moments. They seemed to short-circuit, darkening the room again before the knight hit the control beside the door. Then lights brightened and didn’t go out this time.

  There were a dozen beds in total, with barely enough space to walk between them. Belongings lay atop four mattresses, and my duffle bag sat on the one furthest from the entrance door. Another door led into a bathroom with only one shower. I got the feeling these quarters might have once housed a single crew member.