“Volt Air Traffic Control. What is the reason behind your request, Captain?” a male, monotone voice said. His mechanical voice came through the small communication device directly in front of Sora.
“We are independent transporters carrying cargo for an off-world employer. He is shipping a load of legal weapons to a business partner in Volt,” Sora said, clearing his throat. He imagined that this conversation would be the most troublesome part of the trip.
Sora did not hear a response. He glanced at Talek, who pursed his lips and furrowed his eyebrows.
Another moment passed before the monotone man returned. “In light of the new galactic laws established by her esteemed majesty, Queen Bettina, your cargo must submit to an inspection by Con Security. We will send a team of officers to Port AA2118.”
“Of course, sir. We have nothing to hide,” Sora said, sliding a chipper tone into his statement.
“Permission to land granted.”
The communication device clicked as the monotone trafficker shut his off. Stomping could be heard in the background and he swirled around in his chair to see Chok, his alien co-pilot, entering. The furry, four-foot-tall man carried his traditional walking stick and approached his occupied chair.
“Big butt,” he said, although it sounded more like a low growl. He poked Trika’s cheek twice. “Move!”
Trika’s eyes shot open and she reached forward, ready to grab the furball by the ears, but Sora interrupted the exchange by standing up. “Chok, just in time. You can have my seat. I need to make sure that everything else is in order for our inspection.”
Chok snarled at Trika, before reluctantly waddling to Sora’s seat. “Yes, Captain. I let you off this time, big butt,” he said, hopping into the seat and turning away from Trika.
Chok remained a mystery to Sora. He descended from the Kila species, a primitive tribe of hunter-gatherers at the edge of the galaxy. Completely fur-covered, he spoke broken Englishand stood very short and yet, Chok stood out as the best pilot Sora had found. He got the job done, so Sora accepted him.
“Come on, Talek, let’s see what Fi, Viktor and Kossk are up to,” Sora said, strolling out of the cockpit and into the connecting corridor. Talek closely followed.
Sora entered the main hold, arguably the biggest part of the ship and stood in the doorway as he scanned the room for the rest of his crew. The wide room featured two maroon couches in the center-left and a round, brown conference table in the center-right. Along the edges of the room were counters, construction tables, cabinets and storage closets. There were four exits around the edges of the room, each expanding into another area of the Killer.
Kossk, the Killer’s communications specialist, entered from the door directly across from Sora. Sora considered Kossk another mystery, perhaps even more of one than Chok. Kossk’s brown, scaly skin and claws showed his Mizan heritage. Sora didn’t know much about the Mizan species or their home world, but he knew that Kossk possessed wisdom and knowledge of the Nebula. Kossk used to be a warrior for his species, but Sora had not delved much into his history.
“The engines are operating at 100% capacity, Captain,” Kossk said, giving Sora a slight nod. “The ship should be safe for our bodies when your mind determines that our bodies should depart.”
His word choice. Sora also didn’t understand his word choice.
Sora looked to the left and spotted Fi Kal sitting on one of the couches, sharpening a sword. The silver-haired, six-foot tall woman served as the Killer’s gunner. She had not been forced to act in that role yet, but in this business Sora never knew when he might need another hand to operate the turrets. “Nothing new to report here, Sora,” she said, not looking up from her weapon maintenance.
“Haven’t noticed that sword in your arsenal before,” Talek said, edging toward Fi.
“Disuse has made it dull,” Fi said, briefly looking up and locking her black eyes onto Talek’s. “Never know when I may need to pull it out again.”
“Another relic from the bounty hunting days?” Talek said, flashing her a light smile.
“The first, actually.”
Sora’s focus on the exchange broke when Viktor entered the room. Viktor, his first mate, had not changed in six months. Every time Sora saw him, he couldn’t help but think of that fact. Viktor’s loyalty, attention to detail and level of care for the crew went unmatched. He folded his hands behind his back and looked at Sora. “Our cargo is ready for examination, Captain.”
“This examination doesn’t sit quite right with me, Sora,” Talek said, turning his attention away from Fi. He narrowed his eyes. “These new regulations seem rather oppressive.”
“The takeover has changed many things. Now that she’s disposed of Parliament, perhaps Queen Bettina fears retribution,” Viktor said.
“Fear does not leave much room for freedom, Dr. Atkins,” Talek said, shaking his head slightly.
“This galaxy has never had a democracy,” Fi said, although it sounded like barely more than a mutter. “Parliament or not, it’s a monarchy. A monarchy with one and only one, ruler.”
Sora cleared his throat. “Regardless of the nature of this examination, we won’t get our job done without it. I know that visiting Con isn’t exactly on anyone’s wish list,” Sora said, making brief eye contact with each member of the crew as he looked around. “But we need the funds.”
The room rattled. Sora heard creaking as the legs of the Killer extended onto the landing pad.
“That’s our cue.”
Ten minutes later, Sora and the rest of the crew, minus Chok, stood in front of the closed boarding ramp. Viktor, Trika and Talek stood behind him, guarding the five weapon boxes. Fi and Kossk stood beside Sora. He exhaled and hit the control panel to his right. The ramp hissed as it opened and extended.
The cold air of Con hit Sora dead-on as he walked down the ramp. He winced, but kept his eyes open long enough to see the pristine city around him. Spotless towers of silver lined the city. Each stood at fifty feet tall, possibly more. Metal streets sat in between the towers, strangely at peace.
Yes, as Trika had stated, the city was squeaky clean. Sora brushed off his dark green jacket as an automatic response to the sterile zone that surrounded him. He also touched his belt to ensure that he secured his pistol. Just in case this went negative.
Six ConSec officers stood on the landing pad, assault rifles at their chests. Black armor masked every part of them.
The man in the front didn’t move, but he spoke. “Sora Trok. Bring your cargo forward and submit it to analysis.”
“Well hello to y—," Trika started. Sora cut her off with a glare.
“My first mate and one of our weapon specialists will guide you through it,” Sora said, motioning to Trika and Viktor.
“That is unnecessary. Her majesty’s regulations insist that we solely conduct examinations,” the officer said. Trika and Viktor stepped forward, pushing the boxes.
“Then we will patiently await your conclusion, sir,” Viktor said, folding his hands behind his back once again. Trika coughed and crossed her arms.
The officers stepped away, taking the boxes with them. While Viktor and Trika didn’t budge, Sora stepped back, specifically turning to Talek.
“This place is a little too quiet for my liking. Not even a car in sight,” Talek said, scratching his beard. Sora glanced back to the silent utopia.
Talek Dano. Sora did not know much about the man. He had been the first man who Sora and Viktor encountered when they sought out other crew members. They found him on the botanical moon of Nash while making their first shipment with the Killer. Talek searched for a job and passage as he stated that he came from a centuries-old warrior tribe on the moon, but now almost all of that tribe had passed on. That blue helmet on top of his head and the blue armor on his chest remained his only heirlooms. Sora didn’t inquire of that past out of respect, but Talek’s history gave him both an air of mystery and an insightful perspective on the workings of the Nebula galaxy
.
Perhaps that stood out as the reason why Sora liked him so much.
“Talek,” Sora said, speaking in a low tone. “What do you think of the new developments with the Queen? The takeover?”
Talek tilted his head. “Deception. One day, the Queen adjourns a meeting of Parliament and later that day Parliament has been dissolved? Its members disappear and the press is chipper? That is not foreboding of a wise decision or bureaucratic change, Sora. That is foreboding of a dictatorship.”
Sora nodded. “Maybe it shouldn’t concern me. It is so far above our heads, but as I look around at this city, this planet… it’s a façade. All of it.”
Talek’s head snapped back into place and his brown eyes honed on Sora. “Nothing in this galaxy is above our heads, Sora. Nothing. All life is interweaved… more than what we’d like to think, at that.”
He had a point. Sora knew first-hand that the Queen’s reach trickled down and perhaps that led to his concern now. 13-BZ showed up to destroy Felicia’s spice trade on the Queen’s orders. She didn’t send a team of soldiers or bring Felicia before a court. She dispatched a criminal under the table to murder another criminal and destroy her power.
“The Queen’s power play didn’t start three weeks ago with the takeover,” Sora said. “It started months ago and was meticulously planned. That scares me.”
Then again, the Queen didn’t kill Felicia Malone. Sora did.
He gulped. His raw emotion of that day had faded and now Sora didn’t know if he made the right decision.
“These weapons violate her majesty’s restrictions on modified projectile bolts,” the same officer as before said. He barely turned to face Viktor and Trika. “We will be confiscating them.”
“Modified what?” Trika said, snorting. “You mean the ammo?”
“Sir, I assure you that these weapons have been scrutinized multiple times. They should meet government standards,” Viktor said.
“Not with her majesty’s newest regulations.”
Just as Sora stepped forward to interrupt, a wailing blared into his ears. Red and blue flashing followed. The ConSec officers pointed their rifles outward and turned toward the direction of the sight and sound. Both the flashing and the wailing increased, indicating they were drawing closer.
Just then, a figure catapulted herself over the weapon boxes. A short, brown-haired girl who looked to be barely over five feet darted past the officers. She briefly glanced in Sora’s direction. Sora couldn’t see much, but he noticed her facial structure. The round cheeks, small jaw and short nose. The absence of any wrinkles, bags or distinguishing lines. All features of a youth.
The officers fired their rifles. Red lasers zoomed in the direction of the girl but she kept running.
“Freeze, traitor!” one officer said. “All units pursue!”
The six ConSec officers charged away. Seconds later, the wailing and lights came into full view as the sound of cars sped through the formerly silent streets. The visible engines exuded blue fire, indicating that these square, open-top vehicles operated at full speed. The chrome wheels spun across the metal beneath them.
“What the…,” Trika said, throwing her hands up.
Sora removed his pistol and moved forward. “Talek, Fi, come with me. The rest of you: stay with the weapons.”
Trika held out her hand, as if to cut Sora off. “Whoa, whoa, where do you think you’re going?”
“That girl can’t be over fourteen and she’s being chased by soldiers,” Sora said, continuing to move forward.
“Captain, we have a job to do!” Viktor said.
“Stay with the Killer and complete it then.”
“Sora’s right,” Talek said, following Sora. He removed his modified rifle from his side. “This merits our investigation. I’ve been saying this whole time that this government is oppressive.”
“We’re not heroes!” Trika said with a scoff. “That girl just saved this job, so we should take advantage of it!”
Fi, who had remained silent this whole time, stepped forward. She took out the sword that she’d sharpened earlier and pursed her lips. She stared off in the direction where the girl and the officers had disappeared. “She is a child and they fired at her. That means they’re ready to kill. That’s enough reason to pursue.”
“Let’s go,” Sora said.
He broke into a run and Talek and Fi kept his speed. The three of them, weapons drawn, charged in the direction of the fading sirens and lights.
She hopped over another set of boxes, toppling them over in the process. She heard clatter against the metal street and she heard a hiss as red lasers collided with the fallen boxes. She ducked and looked from left to right. An alleyway appeared to the right. She rounded the corner and disappeared into it, not breaking her stride.
“Losers,” she said, spitting in the direction of the street she had just blown through.
The heat put pressure on her face. The sweat that dripped down her cheeks only made it hotter. She squinted, trying to maintain her vision between the water droplets.
“She went into the alley! Don’t lose her trail!” a mechanical voice said from a distance behind.
Scout Gash groaned, clenching her fists. She quickened her pace, ignoring the labored gasps that came between her fast footsteps. Darkness covered the alley, so she’d be harder to spot. She could see the light at the other end.
They’d stay on her tail, though. Scout couldn’t stay ahead forever.
Bettina. She did this. She ruined everything. Her faithful officers trapped Scout here, too, because she couldn’t leave until she rescued him.
Red and orange shots zoomed past her and she narrowly ducked out of the way. She even felt the heat graze her shoulder. Scout scowled, jumping to the right. She ran her hand across the cold, metal wall and used it to propel her forward. The light of the next street drew closer.
Just as she reached it, she felt a pierce through her boot and into her left ankle. The tingle of a laser burn overtook her senses and she cried out. She wanted to collapse, but she refused.
Couldn’t stop. Must keep going.
She emerged from the alleyway into the light of the new street and she glanced behind her. She only spotted six officers. Her detour caused her to lose the cars. Good.
She focused forward and noticed a metal ledge on the other side of the street. Another obstacle for the bozos in the back.
Scout hurried, scrambling for the ledge. She launched herself forward and as she landed the burning sensation in her left ankle returned. She paused, wincing.
Suddenly, bolts pierced her back, burning through the rags that she called clothes. Scout screamed as all of the nerves in her back erupted in pain. She toppled over, falling face-first onto the other side of the ledge. The metal collided with the right side of her face. Hard.
The light above her seemed brighter, but it also seemed blurrier. She couldn’t make out any of the buildings or structures around her anymore.
Still, Scout could hear. “Finally. Arrest her.”
“No,” she said, coughing. Blood fell out of her mouth. “Not now. Not after… everything…”
She felt more blood trickle down her chin. Then, she stopped when she heard more gunfire. Scout couldn’t see it, but she heard lasers flying on the other side of the ledge.
“Must be allies of the girl! Shoot them!”
Finally, her vision faded entirely.
Sora fired twice, watching the blue lasers burn through the officer’s armor. Two to his left and three to his right turned and started firing. Sora somersaulted to the ground, barely dodging red lights that flew overhead. He fired at the legs of the one on the far right, who instantly collapsed.
Behind him, Talek shot another round at two of the remaining officers. The blue orb zoomed out of his rifle and exploded perfectly in between the officers, not even giving them time to react.
“May have taken a few of those modified projectiles for my own use,” Talek said, ducking as an
other officer fired repeatedly. Red lasers grazed his armor as bolts flew at him from every direction.
Sora scrambled to his feet, ready to take some of the heat off Talek. As he regained his footing, he felt the cold touch of steel bump his head.
One of the two officers pointed his AR at Sora’s scalp. The other officer still had Talek pinned as more red lasers danced toward the jumping warrior.
Talek fired again, but the officer rolled out of the way. He didn’t stop pulling his own trigger, causing Talek to imitate his movements.
“Surrender and identify yourself,” the officer who had Sora at gunpoint said. “How do you know the girl?”
Before Sora could conceive a way to get out of this, a blade cut through the soldier’s neck, sliding between the helmet and shoulder-piece of his armor. Blood splattered as his head fell to the ground. Fi stood behind the severed head.
Sora raised his pistol and fired at the last officer, interrupting the firefight with Talek. Sora’s blue lasers hit the officer’s side and sent him to the ground with a cry. Talek’s last shots came less than a second later, finishing the officer off.
“That was gruesome,” Sora said, eyeing the six corpses beneath him. They had been negotiating with these men twenty minutes ago. Not that he was unfamiliar with death and fighting, but his crew had never done anything like this. Especially not to government personnel.
“Quick, Sora,” Fi said, looking to their surroundings to make sure that they secured the area. “The girl.”
“They would have killed her if we’d arrived a moment later,” Talek said, sighing as he slid his rifle back into his equipment belt. “Still a pity, I agree, but these men dedicated their lives to murder.”
Sora darted behind the metal ledge to see how much of a toll this had taken on her. He winced at the sight: she had fallen unconscious and lay in a pool of blood. Her hair was greasy and her clothes looked like rags. This girl had not come from much.
As he noted all of these observations, he saw his own childhood lying there. Rags, sweat, blood. The life of an orphan.
Survival, Dark Times Page 3