Void Star

by J.P. Yager

“I can get used to this.” Swaying gently in the breeze, a young man lay sprawled out in a hammock. Clad only in swim trunks, his human body had warmed evenly in the day’s supply of sunlight. His medium-length dark hair sprang out of his head in all directions. His cool green eyes hid behind black sunglasses. An arm’s distance away hung his gray flight suit and leather flight jacket. In his line of work, it was necessary to plan ahead. Propped against his clothes was a sheathed sword; it was an ancient weapon he never let out of his sight and didn’t how to use.

  Beyond him unfolded the island world of Aquaria. Even through the dark shades, he could see the purple waves crashing into the blue undercurrents, both lapping onto the red sandbar under the golden sky.

  He heard the familiar squeak of tires as a robot rolled to a stop next to him.

  “Boost, I’m moving here.” The sun was just starting to cast the sky into reds and purples as it set. “This planet is gorgeous.”

  The small robot considered his words. “You’re right, Trevor. It is.” The little robot paused as it processed the colorful scene. “This planet has most naturally occurring colors, like Io and Earth.” It blinked up at him for reassurance.

  Trevor winced every time he mentioned Earth. “Boost, c’mon.”

  Boost tilted his head, unable to comprehend the unspoken rebuke.

  “What do we not talk about?” Trev inquired.

  “Oh…right.” The robot rolled its wheels into its body and dropped out two legs. It sat in another hammock, mimicking the young man.

  Trev rolled his eyes. Even though they had picked up Boost after escaping Earth’s destruction, the robot knew enough about it to draw similarities. The years had been hard for him and his uncle, flying across the galaxy, scraping by, and not once in all that time had they ever brought up Earth again—not since meeting up at Bastion.

  “You better watch it, Booster. I think I hear your master coming.”

  Boost spun his head around, blinked, and then spun it back to look at him. “I do not believe you are correct.”

  Trevor laughed and turned back to the sea, glad to get his mind back off the past. After so much time drifting through space, this moment was truly one to enjoy. This world was at peace. No one was trying to cheat them, betray them, or kill them.

  Wave after soft wave lapped up the beach to greet him. The smell of blooming pink lavender floating on the ocean breeze filled his nostrils with the promise of living in this peaceful state forever.

  In the calm, he felt his hand twitching. It moved violently and fast from side to side.

  Not now, he begged himself.

  He refocused on his breathing and took another drink of alcohol. The taste was drier than whiskey, but sweet like an earthy orange. The shaking subsided a little until it eventually stopped altogether. He looked to see if Boost had noticed and was thankful he hadn’t; the robot was preoccupied with tightening the screws on his upper body, finishing the look. He was trying to make himself into a robotic Salarian, including a gray metal tail. What he ended up making himself look like was a junk heap of mismatched parts. They had got him on the cheap since his program was a little quirky.

  The interval between his seizures was shortening. Even though he had avoided a full attack, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hide his ailment. His eyes darted to his sword to make sure it was still there.

  A three-foot-tall Aquarian native arrived with a platter of assorted finger foods. Trev thanked the little critter. Its fur changed in cascades of colors, matching the wild beauty of the planet. The Aquarian bowed as it exited. The simple gesture was the only communication these aliens performed. It was possible they were just too hairy to speak. Either way, they knew how to treat visitors. The superb service doled out at this resort was refreshing and fully paid for, thanks to the woman who’d contracted them out for this.

  “What are you doing?” Trev asked.

  Boost set down the meat-and-cheese sandwich he’d made.

  “You don’t have to mimic everything.”

  Boost stared at him blankly.

  “Fine. Eat it.” Trevor motioned for him to take a bite of it.

  Boost looked at the sandwich and then back at him. He set it back down and let out a long moaning bleep.

  “Just relax.” Trevor pointed out to the beach. Boost did as instructed, though Trev knew he was only copying his reactions.

  Trevor’s mind drifted to what he was going to do when the sun went down. He couldn’t party it up with other flight crews unless someone else came in. They were really the only show in town at the moment. The resort did have some great simulators though. Even though he was the copilot, he had never been allowed to takeoff or land his uncle’s ship. He believed he had to stay sharp in case that day ever came.

  Trev instead flicked his glasses off and enjoyed the setting sun.

  “That scientist can take as long as she needs.” Trevor exhaled a smooth breath of enjoyment and let his eyes close; he wanted to take a quick catnap before the night began.

  “She appears to be finished,” Boost piped back.

  Trev opened one eye and looked down to where the scientist who had employed them for this mission had been working. It was an unmarked building away from the resort. Kaida was dressed in orange robes that opened in the front. Her eyes were focused on the data pad in her hands. For a woman his uncle’s age, she was quite fetching. Her long, coppery-red hair was pulled back in an organized bun that couldn’t dampen her beauty. Her figure was curvy and full but toned. She looked up at him and grimaced. She didn’t like him much.

  He ignored her and looked down the other way toward where their ship was parked. Her giant assistant, Daphkalian, an Ecath, was loading up all their equipment. He was just about finished by the look of it.

  Trevor had been enjoying the views too much to notice.

  “Get your things. We’re leaving.”

  Trevor nearly jumped out of his swim trunks. Though he was an older gentleman with a robotic leg, his uncle Nathan still had the drop on him. Trev looked up at his white-bearded face. His dark gaze was focused intently on him. He held memories of hundreds of fierce space battles behind those caramel brown eyes. Beneath that, his barrel chest heaved up and down like two massive kegs rising and falling simultaneously. His thin lips were spread out, which gave Trevor a sinking feeling his uncle’s patience was running out.

  “Can’t you give me two more minutes to finish my drink?” Trevor asked.

  Boost didn’t hesitate. “Aye, Captain Sutherland!” He shot out of his hammock. “I’ll get the preflight started.” His legs folded up, and out came the wheels again as he rolled away.

  Trevor looked out one more time to sea and then took another pull of his drink.

  A hand shot across his line of vision and sent the drink flying into the ocean. “Nephew,” his uncle grumbled. “Do I have to remind you that we don’t drink before we fly?”

  Trevor wanted to argue it was only his second drink but thought better of it. His uncle would only launch into a “When I was your age, at the Royal Guard Academy, I never…” story. He got out of the hammock and pulled his flight gear on. He zipped up the gray jumpsuit and pulled his leather jacket over it. He picked up his sword and lugged it back toward the ship without another word.

  Theirs was the only ship on the landing pad. It was a Tiger-37, J-model, quadwing, dual-analog-capacity craft. It truly was one of a kind, seeing as the production plant and the world it had been manufactured on no longer existed. It had a sleek, straight body and engines that spiraled from the back toward the front like dead spider legs. Trev could see the cargo door open and Boost helping Daphkalian tie the equipment down for flight. It was still odd to see such a large Ecath like Daph, since most were pretty small and reminded him of lithe humanoid tigers from Earth. He was like a rhino-sized tiger version, standing one head taller than everyone on the crew. His orange-and-black striped body nearly took away from their ship’s current color, which was the darkest obsidian b
lack there was. They’d painted it that color to help them traverse past the outskirts of Ruveran-monitored space.

  Its tail flash caught his eyes for a moment. One of the words was missing. After the end of Earth, or EOE, as the crew called it among themselves, Nathan had named his old war fighter, Arilyn’s Wrath, for the son he’d lost in the war. Arilyn had been Trev’s closest cousin. Now his name was missing. It had been painted over and recently.

  Were they just “Blind” Wrath now?

  Even though Trevor liked to play like he didn’t pay attention or care, he had noticed a change in his uncle lately. He wasn’t sure what it was yet, but he did worry about him. He had always been a little too militaristic, but he had been quick to laugh and joke. Trevor hadn’t seen him smile in a long time. And after taking this job, he felt like Nathan had become almost loathsome.

  Trevor pushed it out of his mind, grabbed his list, and started going through his checks.

  Elsewhere, back down toward the beach, the older woman in orange robes walked up to Nathan. “How long will it be, Captain Sutherland?”

  Nathan turned from watching his crew prepare the ship. He forced his eyes not to do what they naturally wanted to do, which was unprofessionally wander down. He looked her in the eyes and answered, “Ms. Elwin, we will be ready to depart in thirty minutes. Is all your equipment aboard?” Even as he tried not to check her out, his mind told him that he knew her from somewhere. Was he so old that everyone seemed familiar or did he just not remember?

  “Daphkalian is loading it now. And, please, Captain, call me Kaida.” She absentmindedly pulled her reddish hair behind her ear, further exposing her smooth, frail neck. Even her name echoed from a time long forgotten.

  “Of course, ma’am.” He coughed. Nathan could feel his missing wedding ring, and guilt darkened his approach to the beautiful woman. “If everything is set, go take your seat.” His stony exterior left little room for debate.

  Kaida watched the well-muscled captain depart. He couldn’t help looking so dashing in his pressed collared shirt and tailored pants. His long, dark overcoat blew in the ocean breeze. With the smooth way he walked, it was difficult to tell he had a prosthetic leg. He was like an old stone statue from a different era, begging to be chiseled down. It hurt her deeply that he didn’t remember her, but she would remind him when the moment was right. Or maybe never.

  She couldn’t wait to get away from this place. Her tests had failed. Ruveran technology could not be duplicated or repressed. Those she worked for were not going to be pleased. She needed a distraction.

  She stole one last look at the beautiful landscape, taking in the serenity of the ocean. It was gorgeous—red sands and pink lavender, and purple waters. That will do, she thought.

  Then something odd stuck out; it was a flash of light coming from the sky deep offshore. When she squinted against the waning light of day, she would have sworn it was a falling meteor. But she knew well enough that there weren’t any in the sector. That knowledge only served to pique her curiosity, and she wanted to follow the mysterious object. Whatever it was burned white hot through the clouds.

  She felt her breath catch. It wasn’t a natural object from space or the sky. It was a ship—and it was engulfed in flames.

  “Captain!” she screamed.

  The ship pad was easily within earshot, and out of nowhere, the captain reappeared. He came running down to see what the matter was, favoring his flesh-and-blood appendage for speed. He stopped short of her.

  “Ma’am?” His calm, patient eyes met hers.

  “Look!” She pointed up.

  His eagle eyes followed her finger and went wide in moments. “They’re going to make a water landing.” He turned his wrist communicator up to his lips. “Trevor! Boost! Listen. Fire it up and prepare for an emergency extraction.” He turned back to Kaida, suddenly realizing she was still there. “Ma’am, get on board. We’re departing now.”

  Kaida followed after him. They raced across the landing pad together and burst through the cargo hold into the passenger compartment. She found her seat and buckled up. Her assistant, Daphkalian, did the same directly across from her.

  In the cockpit, Trevor heard the thrashing approach of his uncle.

  “What’s the rush?” Trev asked, his checklist still out as Nathan dropped down into the pilot seat. He was double-checking the fuel system. “I think the auxiliary power unit is on the fritz.”

  Nathan gave him a vituperative look that said he wanted to wring his neck. “Didn’t you hear me? Sheezus. You’d know we’re running an extraction if you had your communicator on.” Before Trevor could ask another question, he yelled back to Boost, “Leave the door open and prepare the extraction winch.”

  “Aye, Captain!”

  “I haven’t even cleared the fault list—” Trevor began and then stopped himself when he saw his uncle’s face. He’d check it later.

  “Are we clear?” Nathan called over the intercom.

  “Aye, Captain. Pad’s clear!” Boost called from the back.

  Nathan hit the ignition. The fuel cells burst to life. The quantum engines spun up to 97 percent and held there. The captain punched the glide accelerator, and they shot off the pad. Low to the ground, they took off flying; the calm waves were thrown to either side of their path as they ascended above them.

  They leaped into the air just as the other ship slammed into the water. A forty-foot splash erupted like a volcano and then rained back down into the tranquil ocean.

  “You’re going in.” Nathan flicked his finger toward the wreckage.

  “You can’t be serious,” Trevor protested.

  Nathan nodded.

  But then Trevor would rather jump into a burning ship than listen to another lecture about the facets of having honor and living by his code of ethics. He unbuckled his harness and jumped out of his seat. He slid down the railings and saw the two surprised passengers.

  “We apologize for any inconvenience or discomfort this may cause,” Trev said as he bolted past. He shot around the avionics bay and saw Boost waiting by the open cargo door.

  “What a waste of time. No one could have survived that crash,” he told Boost.

  Boost shrugged as he hooked Trev up.

  Meanwhile, Nathan activated the ship’s automated fire-suppression system and circled the wreck. The fires fought hard to stay alive against it, but eventually, they went out.

  Boost let the winch down with Trevor attached the moment the line was secure. The calm winds from the beach were stronger offshore. Water shot up and struck at his face as he descended. Trev put it out of his mind and wiped the moisture off. The salt water dried his mouth and burned his eyes.

  His boots hit the top of the fuselage. The craft was already half-submerged. There was no way it was going to stay up much longer. Charred marks ran across the hull, and even though the fire had been put out, he could still feel the heat rising off it. Sweats beads gathered and fell from his temples.

  Trevor opened the escape hatch on top, and a cloud of smoke blew into his face. He jumped down anyway. The sooner he did it, the better. He was familiar with this class of starship. It was a small passenger R-series carrier, usually used by VIPs from the Outskirt Worlds. Those who could afford this luxury rode with armed guards.

  He added bringing a gun and an oxygen mask to the things he would do differently when he found himself in this exact situation again. If it came to it, he still had the diamond sword he always wore at his hip.

  Through the gloomy smoke, Trev saw an alien, a Nymarian, in brown robes unconscious in his chair, his mouth hanging open. He checked for a heartbeat and found it, though it was faint. He looked toward the front through the haze and saw that the pilots hadn’t been as lucky.

  When Trevor went to pick him up, the alien’s large eyes fluttered for a moment and his mouth almost moved; then they closed, and his body went slack again. His eyes sealed shut.

  Thankful Nymarians were bony, thin, and a head shorter, Trev slu
ng the only survivor’s arm over his shoulder and dragged him back to the hatch. He pushed him through the opening, crawled out with him, and then attached him to the winch with himself. Boost brought the two of them back on board.

  “I got him.” Boost was surprisingly strong given his small size. He called it “robot strength.” The little guy carried the alien back to the passenger compartment as Trevor caught his breath. He followed after closing the cargo door.

  “I have some medical training,” Kaida told Boost. “Put him down here by me.”

  Kaida’s eyes widened when she saw the Nymarian. Just like in the stories, it had golden, nearly transparent yellow skin; bony, frail features; and a large, bulbous mouth and eyes. Nymarians were like legends. They were never seen. What brought such a rare creature to crash-land?

  Boost did as he was told, propping the alien next to Kaida as Trev made his way back to the cockpit. The sky was a wild cascade of darker colors, as the sun was nearly gone for the day.

  “All right, we need to get him back to Paega Bay for immediate medical attention.” Nathan began to turn the ship around. The ocean claimed what was left of the Nymarian’s charred ship as it slipped beneath the waves.

  Suddenly, an alarm sounded. “Rift even detected.”

  “It can’t be,” Trevor said.

  “Check it again.”

  “The system is working fine. This planet is about to rift.”

  “How close?”

  Trevor pulled up the spectral relay and saw a growing patch of red. “We’re close to the middle of it. Uncle, this planet is lost. We have to go.”

  “I’ll send a warning to whoever is listening on this planet.” Nathan punched the frequency in.

  Daphkalian and Kaida listened to the warning sounds overhead and looked to Boost. Boost put on his seat belt and gave them a worried look, a feature he’d been working on. “Ruverans.”

  Inside the cockpit, there was no time for hesitation. “Ready the thrusters,” Nathan commanded.

  Trevor hit the switch on his console and adjusted the departure settings. “One-two-two-decimal-five set, full thrust, eighteen degrees engaged.”

  “Checked,” Nathan answered. He pushed the throttle up to full power, and they burst forward. The ship climbed impossibly fast through the atmosphere.

  “I don’t see any Ruverans on radar,” Trev commented.

  “They’re out there.”

  Trevor looked through his window again.

  A massive beam of hot light shot a hundred yards off their nose. Coming from somewhere in space, it immediately broke through the planet’s crust.

  Trevor couldn’t visually acquire its origin point, but what he did see churned his stomach. The oceans were boiling. Clouds began spiraling down. It was just like the rift that had taken Earth. He knew all too well nothing could stop this. Energy ribbons tore through the surface of the dying planet.

  Nathan juked left just as one threatened to tear through the ship.

  “Rift even commencing.”

  “Course set. Punch it! Punch it!” Trevor yelled. They had full bars for light speed.

  Nathan looked over at the spectral relay and saw they were at the center of the red now. He engaged the force drive, and they blew through Aquaria’s atmosphere into unknown black oblivion.

  As they disappeared from that galaxy, energy spikes tore apart the peaceful planet of Aquaria. It stood quietly for a moment and then burst. Slowly at the center, a white nexus formed and pulled the chunks of dead planet into it. It closed into itself and disappeared, as if it had never been. The gorgeous island world had been wiped from existence, just like that.

  A Ruveran battle ship emerged from the darkness of space. Like a shark, it picked up the scent and stalked after its prey.

  Chapter 2