A distant galaxy millions of light-years away holds many untold secrets. This galaxy's official name, ZCV-446 (its coordinates on the spacial map), is commonly referred to as the Deep Black Galaxy, because although there are three suns in the center, the systems are so spaced out and distant from each other, some planets don't receive any sunlight at all and have required artificial light for survival and planetary colonization.
It's on one lone planet in the Seras System that the majority of this story takes place; Valkyr, a blue planet perfect for inhabiting organic life, and also the capital planet of the entire Galactic Empire.
For the past five years, the Seras System has held a shaky peace in the wake of the Twelve Year War. Newly-crowned emperor Christian Redd has assumed the responsibility of restoring the entire galaxy back to its former glory, the crown jewel of its neighbors and envy of every government and ruler within a hundred million light-years.
He hasn't had much success in this aspect, as intergalactic piracy, slavery, and other major criminal activity has only increased since the end of the war. Add to this the fact that a small rebellion has formed and been a constant and growing thorn in the Empire's side, destroying military and communication installations all over the Deep Black, and the situation for Emperor Redd looks rather grim.
Several factions are at work in the background with their own personal agendas, and intend on securing their own futures in the final frontier. One of the most infamous space pirate crews in the surrounding galaxies, the Vanguard, have just pulled off the greatest heist in their history worth upwards of 35million credits.
The Revenants, a shadow corporation with several fronts to keep money and recruits rolling in, has been at the center of controversy and conflict. They seem to foresee events before they occur, and are apparently one of the factions vying for control of the Deep Black. Any member who is ever captured commits instant suicide with the press of a button that detonates a small explosive implanted in their brains, preventing rival corporations or enemies from gaining classified information.
The Imperial Army has its hands full on every battlefront in the galaxy, and is facing mass desertion along these fronts. The Galactic Empire's most elite unit, The 13th Squadron, is made up of the best sharpshooters, medics, gunmen, engineers, and pilots ever to enlist, and is led by Captain James Eckert, one of the brightest young minds in the galaxy.
With conflict abound throughout the systems, and the threat of war looming on the horizon, the Deep Blacks' inhabitants prepare to take up arms and choose a side to permanently end the fight and truly attain peace.
Atlin, Valkyr's smallest moon
Aboard the Paradigm
This is it. This is what I've been waiting for.
I was admiring several large bags and crates full of galactic credits. We just hit the score of a lifetime in the next galaxy over, and I've been all smiles in the days leading up to today.
"What the hell are you doing?!" an aggressive voice raged at me over my communicator.
I had landed us on a desolate field on a small moon with a limited amount of organic life, confident that I had single-handedly escaped the military and every average-Joe bounty hunter on our trail light-years ago.
The door to the cockpit opened automatically as my partner in crime Adelle T'Raal walked in, hands planted firmly on her hip and the kind of vexed expression on her face that would disarm a normal man.
"What the hell are you doing?" she inquired again, less angrily than before, her expression and body position remaining exactly the same.
"We're safe here. There's been no familiar radar activity in the last hundred or so light-years, and I-"
"You're an idiot for landing us here," she cut me off coldly, her demeanor transitioning from anger to superior. She closed her eyes and sighed, knowing I was right that we had lost our pursuers. One thing I didn't calculate was what she said next.
"Do you realize the Deep Black's galactic empire's capital planet is some-odd light-years away?" Admittedly I didn't.
While we squabbled about who was right or wrong for the millionth time this week, Alex, a kid we picked up in the last galaxy, walked into the room and started admiring the ridiculous amount of money we had secured, just like I had. I think I'm starting to like this kid.
"What do you think you're doing?" Adelle shifted her rage from myself to him with warp speed and rather unfairly. "You're supposed to be doing a systems check and inspecting the damage we've sustained."
Without so much as glancing at her, he replied "It's already done. Minimum damage that only would require a paintjob and all the systems are fully operational."
"AIDA, is this true?" Adelle asked aloud, looking up at the ceiling of the cockpit.
"Yes, Mr. Alex has completed a swift and efficient inspection of the entire ship," a comforting female voice replied.
After taking another breath and coming to some sort of internal peace, she dropped her tense shoulders and looked at the ground.
"Thanks AIDA. Sorry I've been so strung-out guys. Being a space pirate isn't easy, and being a space pirate who just robbed a bunch of huge capital ships blind is even more difficult."
I concur. These past few months have been tough for me. I've been pretty laid back in all aspects of my life. I live pretty stress-free, but stealing from the government and rival space pirates can break that quickly. Breaking my train of thought, Alex spoke rather loudly.
"So what are we gonna spend it on?"
"We're going to save it," Adelle said coldly, with a fierce look in her eyes. Alex looked at her so fast, he could've snapped his neck.
"What's the point of having this much money if we can't spend it? We should upgrade the Paradigm. A lot of her systems are outdated and we can become more efficient and-"
"No," was all Adelle said before she calculatingly stormed out of the cockpit and assumingly back to her station in the Weapons Systems room.
"She's in the wrong you know," Alex said aloud, presumably at me. I went back and sat down in my awesome red, velvety-cushioned captain's seat and laughed.
"She's a woman. She's never wrong." I poured myself a drink and laughed quietly to myself again.
"You know, you're damn smart, kid. Smart with computers and engineering and all that stuff. But you're not smart when it comes to interacting with Adelle. You've gotta know when to pick your battles." I said all this and realized I just had a fight with her about where we landed, hoping he forgot about that.
"Weren't you guys JUST arguing?"
Damn it.
"Yeah, but-" was all I could utter before suddenly, an blaring siren filled the cockpit, as a small red light began blinking by the radar screen.
"Captain, a single hostile ship in the vicinity with a similar signature as one of our pursuers just exited warp speed," AIDA calmly chimed in.
"Time to go!" I shouted, and Alex immediately left to cockpit for his station. Adelle turned her communicator back on
"What's going on?" she asked, a slight edge to her voice. Before I could reply, AIDA gave me another status update.
"Twelve more hostile signatures have just exited warp speed, Captain. Immediate evacuation is advised."
Normally I think pretty well on my feet. But with thirteen bounty hunters about to close in and capture or kill us, I stumbled and made a pretty bad decision.
"We have to go, now!" Alex shouted on the communicator.
"What's the plan, Jason?" Adelle asked, the edge in her voice getting guttural.
"I guess we're going to Valkyr," was the last thing I said before we took off and activated warp speed, leaving our pursuers in the dust once again.
Calan, Imperial Capital of Valkyr
Castle Eagan
I poured myself another glass of whatever kind of prissy imported drink I had in front of me. It was disgusting, but I seemed to have an unquenchable thirst. It's funny how the wealthy love this stuff.
"Lord Jackson," Martellus beckoned, visually and audibly becoming more and more impatient over time.
"It's just Jack, Martellus," I said sourly, my face wrenching with distaste at both the drink and being referred to as Jackson by my butler. I hate that name more than anything.
"Very well, Lord Jack," he started, but I cut in.
"Yes, yes, I know."
I stood up, my cool blue royal uniform almost glittering in the tired morning sun. Today is the first day of many in which I attempt to inherit the throne. Though, the means of how I do so are less than satisfactory circumstances in my opinion.
I slowly walked over to the window overlooking our castle's courtyard. Our large metal walls surrounded and protected us from enemies, and we always have several layers of nigh-impenetrable force-fields active should we come under immediate attack. But today it felt like I was imprisoned rather than protected.
All of the citizens of Calan, and even those from distant planets in the system, have gathered here today to watch me and my twin brother, Zack (who also hates his full name Zacharias) outduel and outwit each other in a series of trials, and whoever is the victory after all is said and done, will be the true heir to the Emperor. It's the stuff of legend, really.
As much as I hate my full name, I hate the prospect of battling my brother. We're both 17, we're both of royal blood, and we're both men. That is where the similarities end. I'm just under six feet tall on a good day, and he's a modest six and a half feet. I'm hovering around one hundred and sixty pounds, and, you guessed it, he's about 80 pounds bigger.
I waste my days reading books and avoiding the sunlight at all costs, gathering as much knowledge and lore as I possibly can. He's been training for this day since he was seven years old.
My father and my mother both came into my room and neither one of them knocked.
"Are you ready?" my father, the emperor, asked. But it was more of a command and less of a question.
"Of course," I said, stretching my arms out and yawning.
"This isn't some game," my mother expressed very condescendingly.
"Then why are they called the Imperial Games?" I inquired with equal amounts of sarcasm and thoughtfulness.
My mother scoffed and abruptly left the room, much to my father and I's satisfaction.
"I just want you to know, no matter what happens you're my son and I'm proud of the man you've become."
I've been waiting many years for him to say something along those lines. If only the circumstances were in my favor.
"Come on; best not to keep the people waiting."
Yeah, that's right at the top of my list of priorities.
As my father and I made our way down to the courtyard, surrounded by countless types of people, the gravity of the events that could possibly follow finally hit me. I was about to be crushed by my twin brother for the right to wear the crown and control a crumbling empire. Do I even want this?
After very long and boring ceremonies involving people from other planets that I had no interest in, it was almost time to begin.
"Jack," a familiar voice reached out to me as I had my focus elsewhere in my mind.
I looked up to see my best friend of 15 years, Aerick. Without a word, I stood up and hugged him firmly, as we both smiled and laughed. He had been more of a brother to me than the beast of a man I was going to brawl.
"Should it come to a fist-fight, I think we both know you've lost," Aerick said resolutely, his behavior shifting from familiar to grave.
"I know," I said, sobered by the reality and finality of his statement.
"Remember that his left knee is weak from the time he fell out of that tree when you were boys. As such he can no longer take a proper combat stance on his favored right side and must lean more on his right knee to compensate."
He said all of this while staring across the courtyard at my brother, glaringly. The two have come to blows before in a stalemate over a girl. I didn't expect to fare as well.
"Don't worry. I've heard the first trial is more agility-based than combat-oriented," he said suddenly cheerful.
"Well, I guess I have the upper hand being so lean and small."
A bell tolled in the distance, confirming the beginning of the first trial. My heart sank.
"Good luck, brother," Aerick said with hopeful eyes.
I nodded and adjusted my favorite black vest, walking out to the field.
I'm gonna need it.
Outskirts of Morva, abandoned ghost town on Valkyr
aboard the fighter heli, The Lord's Armada
"Listen up and listen good, 13th," I said with certain bravado to my voice.
"We've got a VIP and an allied squad pinned down near the heart of this city. The VIP is Maria Peros, who holds significant importance to the brass. Local rebels have caught wind of the VIP's location and the allied rendezvous point, and have attempted to either capture or assassinate the target. Our brother squad, the 7th Squadron, has suffered several casualties, two confirmed dead and at least four more injured and in critical condition."
My voice trailed off as we got closer to the city, and it was clear to my men that we had a serious situation.
"Our mission is to secure the VIP and exfiltrate the combat zone with all of our guys, dead or alive. First, we have to make our way there undetected through the streets and get the drop on them." A hologram of the city map appeared in the center of the chopper's back area. I zoomed in on the combat zone.
"Lieutenant Harmon," I started, looking over at my second in command, who stood up abruptly.
"Once we arrive on-site, you'll take three men and hit this rooftop," I said, pointing at a tall building almost two thousand yards away from the fighting. "You will be leading fireteam Foxtrot, and you'll be performing recon before being re-tasked with sharpshooting." He grunted in confirmation, saluting and sitting back down.
"Lieutenant Olson, you're heading fireteam Charlie, and you will be giving my unit and Fireteam Foxtrot support on the ground, flanking from this western position while my unit assault from the east, where the VIP and allied units are located."
Sweat developed on my hands and my heart started racing as I announced my squad's orders.
"Bradley, Thurmon, Remington, as well as myself, will head up Bravo team. We will primarily focus on neutralizing enemy combatants and retrieving the VIP. We will rely on Foxtrot team to cover our exfil, and Charlie team to support the allied units until the Armada arrives for exfiltration."
I paused a second for dramatic effect.
"Any questions, men?"
Not a single man shook their head.
"Then we move out."
As we made our way through the war-torn shadow of a city, collapsed and burned buildings surrounding us, I couldn't help but feel something in my bones. I couldn't tell if it was something watching us, if maybe I had made a critical error in the game plan, or whatever it might be. But some unseen force had a gravitational pull on the hairs on my neck the entire operation. My fireteam was almost in position.
"Bravo 1 this is Foxtrot 1, we are in position, Captain Eckert."
"Roger that, Foxtrot 1. Charlie 1 what's your status?"
A long static-filled pause polluted the airwaves of my communicator before I received a response.
"Sorry, Bravo 1. Fireteam Charlie is now in position behind hostiles."
So far, so good. As my team approached our position, I requested an update from Foxtrot.
"There's heavy combat, Captain. Gunfire is being exchanged regularly and I see at least six bodies motionless on the field."
A greater sense of urgency enveloped me, as I picked up my pace and the rest of my squad did as well. Once we arrived, my heart was racing; not from the running, but from the adrenaline pumping through my veins. This could very well be the last day any of us live.
"Bravo team is in position," I said almost whispering. I didn't know if everyone had heard me because there was gunfire on the other side of the building we were stationed behind.
"How many hostiles do we have, Foxtrot 1?"
"I count 11 live hostiles, and 6 remaining allied units."
"Foxtrot, engage," I said loudly. I waited to hear the sounds of their high-caliber rifles fire off a couple shots before I signaled for my team to fan out and follow me to attempt to save the allies and the VIP.
As soon as I saw the battlefield with my own eyes, I gave Charlie their orders. There were at least four dead already from Foxtrot, and the remaining seven had taken cover and were fighting on two fronts. They didn't expect Charlie to come from behind them and claim two more of their soldiers by surprise.
I ran towards the allied encampment with my gun still pointed, should anyone draw on me. The remaining six capable fighters were exhausted and almost seemingly gave up until they saw my uniform. They scrambled to their feet to salute me, but I waved them off.
"We're here to get you all out of here," I said. One soldier nodded, and the rest had a look on their face like it was too good to be true, except for the one who had a mask.
"Where's Maria?"
"I'm here," the one with the mask stepped forward.
"Please remove your helmet, ma'am. We have to identify you and extract you and your men."
She took her helmet off slowly, her long brown hair fluidly whipping against the wind. Women aren't something I usually take a lot of time out of my day to think about, but this woman was beautiful. Her big brown eyes and piercing expression perforated me. It was almost like she saw my soul.
"Foxtrot, Charlie teams, we have the VIP and the targets," I started, but as I looked out towards the battlefield, all I heard was-
"David, get down!"
A rebel with a rocket launcher charged the camp and with one final act of braveness, fired it in our direction. He had shot it a little too high, as it missed us by a dozen or so feet. Unless he was trying to hit the building directly behind us. He hit that.
One of our snipers got him directly through the head seconds after he had shot at us, his lifeless body making a sickening thump as it fell to the ground.
I immediately ordered Foxtrot to request exfiltration, while Charlie charged towards us to help move the incapacitated and deceased out of the way. The building was beginning to collapse.
Before we got more than 20 yards, I heard the groan of the metal building settling, and then with a great crack, it gave way; right in our direction.
"Move!" was all I could say before frantically dragging two deceased allies myself out of the line of the building's fall. Even if we were to avoid the actual building collapsing on us, the heavy dust, dirt and smoke that would shoot out after would encapsulate and possibly kill if any unseen debris hit us.
It all seemed to happen in slow motion. I don't know how we all managed to escape the wrath of the building, but immediately after doing so; we took cover behind other fallen buildings that would hopefully absorb the brunt of the debris. We were successful.
After everything calmed down, we dusted ourselves off and reevaluated our situation. The chopper was almost here, and nobody who wasn't already dead had been killed. It was a perfect mission, except for that whole building nearly killing us.
"You are David Eckert?" Maria approached me slowly, almost calculating what I would possibly say.
"Yes ma'am, captain of the 13th Squadron in the Emperor's Army."
"You are a good leader," she said with a smile. "Your men fought bravely for you today, and you have won a great victory."
It didn't feel like a great victory but not having any of my men die as well as saving some friends is a damn good day.
"Thank you," I said, saluting her. Shortly after that, we successfully extracted all the targets and allies to our company commander's great joy.
Just another day in the office.
Calan, Imperial Capital of Valkyr
Corva District
It's been three whole days since my sister, Chloe, and I have had anything at all to eat.
"Skyler," my younger sibling beckons to me. "I'm so hungry."
She's only 12 years old, five years younger than me, and it's been about as many years since our parents were both killed by Imperial soldiers in a terrible crossfire. Only our parents died that day. It wasn't fair.
"I know, Chloe, I know," I said lowly, holding her malnourished body against my own for warmth. We had built ourselves a little shelter and slowly been expanding it and adding multiple little "ratways" as I like to refer to them as. That way, if we should be caught, we can escape and no one can chase us except other street kids our size.
"I'm so sleepy," she said, visibly unable to keep her eyes open from weakness and fatigue. I had to do something before we starved to death.
"Stay here, I'll go get us some food," I said, forcing a smile as I spoke in hopes that it would ease her pain a bit.
I picked up the knapsack I made and made my way up into the streets above, full of fat rich imperial citizens that could stand to lose a few credits and some valuables.
After about an hour of searching for a sweet spot with few guards and plenty of open pockets, I settled in a corner and lowered my head, remaining out of the public eye but where I could see pretty much everything. When you've been doing this your whole life, you pick up a few tricks for your own survival.
A lot of the faces were familiar to me; I'd either robbed them blind before or they've seen me attempt to and called the guards. But there was one man at a particular outside shop in strange clothes that caught my eye. In that moment I decided he would be my first target in the past few days.
The man was very tall, close to six and a half feet I would've wagered. He had a black silky cloak enveloped around him, adding a layer of both mystery and difficulty to him, as I had no idea where his wallet might be.
As I watched him shop around at the stores, I noticed he had a very peculiar gun holstered on his right thigh. It was too large to be Imperial-issue, but too small to be something forged in a rebel foundry. Something about it made me uneasy.
I was slowly building up courage to attempt to take him for all he was worth. After a few more minutes, I struck, running as fast as my weak body could straight at the man and ramming him. He fell over, and I was pretty sure I had broken a rib or two. But his wallet and gun were both on the ground, and in a split decision, I grabbed the wallet and took off before anyone could stop me.
I easily escaped the public eye because I knew the side roads and alleys like no one else in the city save for possibly the mapmakers or architects. I turned into an empty alley and opened the wallet, looking first at the man's identification card.
Name: Aiden King
Age: 35
POB: Markoz
That was all I cared to read before checking out how much money I had acquired from this oddly-successful outing.
There were enough credits in here for Chloe and I to eat and live extravagantly for years!
"Hand that back over, lad," a voice from behind me said softly and gently before touching my shoulder.
Out of fear, I spun around and weakly attempted to strike the man. He easily grabbed my free hand without exerting much force and tenderly retook his wallet.
"What's your name, kiddo?" he asked caringly, placing his wallet in his back pocket as he removed his cloak from his face. His piercing blue eyes and ruffled blonde hair looked out of place with his attire.
"I'm Skyler," I said with both anger and brevity.
"Well Skyler, I'm Aiden" the man said, his voice still as soft as a mother's speaking to her newborn baby. "I'll tell you what. Since you went to all that trouble to rob me, I'll give you a little something."
Aiden reached into his pocket and took his wallet out and generously gave me a handful of credits; enough for us to still eat lavishly for months. I lit up.
"Thank you, sir!" I exclaimed, almost passing out from a combination of hunger and disbelief. He ruffled my messy hair, not doing it any favors, with a smile.
"Now how about you stop robbing honest people blind? You might get caught and regret it one day." And with that, the man slipped his cloak back over his head smoothly, turned his back and walked away, disappearing around the corner.
With the money that the stranger Aiden had given me, I began running ecstatically through the streets back to our shelter to show Chloe. On the way, I ran face-first into three drunken mercenaries that I had stolen from before.
"Watch where the hell you're going, you little brat!" one man said, his hand on his head.
"Wait, Samuel… does he look familiar to you?"
The man who looked the biggest and the strongest took a hard look at me, studying my face and searching his memories. I knew he remembered me because his face changed from studious to anger nearly instantly.
"Get 'em boys!" was all I heard after I took off running towards the shelter; towards Chloe. I had faith that I would lose these guys, and was smiling and laughing the whole way home like it was some game.
But I didn't lose them. I grew tired very quickly, and their long legs granted them larger strides and they had much more stamina than I did. I barely made it to our little shelter's manhole. As I attempted to slide my way in, one of them grabbed my ankle and yanked me back out.
"You thought you could run from the Ospreys?!" the man holding me in the air by my leg screamed. I knew it was rhetorical.
Him and another of the three mercs took turns brutally punching and kicking me. I screamed out but it felt like ages between punches and kicks that eventually I just accepted the fact that I was probably gonna die. As long as Chloe was okay, it didn't matter. But I thought ahead too soon.
"Skyler?" a quiet voice softly echoed through the alley. The third man, the leader, walked over to the manhole just as Chloe poked her head out.
"Chloe get back in there!" I screamed again, my voice cracking in fear. I didn't care what happened to me, but my sister was the only thing keeping me sane and alive.
I was too late. The man ripped her out of the manhole by her hair and she began screaming and kicking, trying to escape him.
The other two dropped me and I hit the hard pavement with a thud.
"Don't you hurt a fucking hair on her head," I said, rage building up inside of me. I wiped blood from my mouth but it didn't matter, since new blood replaced it in seconds.
"Yeah, we wouldn't want you to kick our asses, right?" one of the henchmen said followed by a chuckle. I've only ever wanted to kill the imperial guards who took my parents, but these guys were right under them on my little blacklist.
"Put your hands up!" I heard a voice say beyond the mercenaries. There were five Imperial guards with their weapons drawn.
"You're under arrest by imperial decree," the leader of the guards spoke again, and the grip on his assault rifle grew tighter.
The two mercenaries who were beating me to a pulp earlier pulled their guns faster than lightning and instantly shot three of the guards, who then spread out behind cover and began exchanging gunfire.
I feebly crawled to a safe spot away from the gunfire before I heard a bloodcurdling scream. It wasn't a man's scream. It was the kind of scream a little girl would make.
No, I thought. No, this isn't real.
I poked my head up from behind cover, and the gunfire had ceased. The man who held my sister by her hair had her up as a shield, then quickly dropped her and ran. She had clutched something around his neck before she was dropped. One merc was dead in a puddle of his own blood, the other was wounded, and the imperial guards moved in to chase the man as one went to check on Chloe. I raced over, feeling numb to every emotion except fear.
She wasn't moving and her dirty white shirt was now covered in red, with a bullet hole on each side of her body marking where a stray bullet entered and exited her body.
I held her lifeless body in my hands as I let her blood wash over me. I couldn't feel anything. What came next was like something out of a movie. I couldn't control m body, it was as if something had taken me over.
I took the thing Chloe was clutching before she died; it was the man's dog tags.
His name was Samuel Pearce. He was a member of the rebellion. I zoned out as the only color I could see was red. Then the injured merc's cries of agony brought me back to reality, and I moved fluidly over to the wounded man.
I could see that he was bleeding profusely, and he wouldn't survive without immediate medical help.
"Help me, man," he pleaded. This was one of the men who was beating the shit out of me moments earlier. I was going to oblige him. Without feeling myself move, I moved my hands to his bullet wound.
"There?" I asked, knowing that it was obviously the source of his pain.
He nodded desperately. He wanted anything to end the pain.
"Okay, this might hurt a little bit," I said emotionlessly. I took one look at my clean hands before I acted.
I dug both of my hands into his wound and began to rip and tear at it. He struggled, doing anything to frantically kick me away. But it didn't matter. By the time one of the guards got to me, I had already pulled his stomach out with one hand, ensuring his death. He would suffer and die like my parents. He would suffer and die like Chloe.
The guard pulled me off of him and screamed something, but I was deaf to everything. I was staring at the man I had just killed. I knew it wouldn't bring my family back, but I knew that it would hold the pain over for a while until I got my hands on Samuel Pearce. But he wouldn't have such an easy death. I didn't know how I would kill him, but it would be in the most painful way I could imagine. I put his dogtag around my neck after being brought into an imperial holding facility. I was going to be placed in jail for killing the man, and would await trial. But who would be placed in jail for killing my sister? No one.
No one.
No one was going to answer for the death of my sister today. But I will make someone answer for it. This, I swear.
Calan, Valkyr
‘The Hot Handle’ dive bar, Slums District
It’d been four days since we lost our pursuers. We’ve been lying low and spending as little money as we could in hopes that we’ll finally be in the clear. Exhibiting restraint is one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done, and this is coming from the only man who’s escaped the mining colony’s prisons on Atlus III.
We were in a nice little corner of this run-down bar. I’ve had at least four drinks, and I was only now starting to feel the buzz. I had Alex with me to keep an eye out for suspicious figures, but in this part of Calan, everyone is suspicious. Hooded figures everywhere, the stench of death and blood in the air… it’s enough to make even the calmest monks of Tyrus to break their vow of silence and seek safety.
“Rumor has it that there’s a space pirate and his crew around here,” I heard the bartender whisper to a patron.
“Shit, there’s loads of space pirates in this damned city,” the burly patron replied with an uneducated Imperial accent, seemingly offended by the obviousness of the bartender’s ‘rumor’.
“Yes, but how many have infiltrated an intergalactic bank and escaped both the authorities and one of the fiercest bounty hunters to tell the tale?” the bartender whipped back, smiling smugly at the juiciness of this little tidbit.
“Yer fuckin’ lyin’,” the patron spewed his beer at the bartender and grabbed him by the cuffs of his dirty, wrinkled shirt, his face crumpled into anger. “I’ll have Weston’s head on a pike soon enough, but he’s not stupid enough to be in this system. Not after what him and his crew did to me last time.”
“I have reliable sources in the Empire, Malus,” the bartender said calmly, gripping the patron’s hands and easily removing them from his collar without effort. Malus started grunting in pain as the man slowly sprained his wrists.
“Let go, Kell, let me go!” Malus started to yell. Several other patrons looked over at the two.
“And if you ever, ever, touch me again,” Kell started. He loosened his grip on Malus’ hands. “I swear to you, I will break every little bone in your body, starting with those,” he said, gesturing to the hands Malus was rubbing painfully.
I watched on at the exchange expressionless, not wanting to draw too much attention to myself or Alex. Malus looked around at the other patrons who were observing.
“The hell are you lot lookin’ at?” he coldly asked, but no man was brave enough to reply save for one.
“I’d watch your tone, sir,” a tall yet slender man arose from his seat, also possessing an Imperial accent, albeit a proper one.
“Oh yeah? And what ‘er you gonna do abou’ tit?” he turned to face the man who seemed to be alone. Several of his cohorts rose from their seats and positioned themselves behind Malus.
“I’d rather not come to blows, especially in a nice place like this,” the man spoke sarcastically, yet with a calm demeanor.
“You think I give a damn what you would rather do? Teach this highborn fucker a lesson, will ya fellas?”
Three of Malus’ minions rushed the man, one possessing a long-bladed knife. The man kicked a heavy wooden chair at one, disorienting him. He immediately disarmed the guy with the knife, throwing it at the other man’s foot, easily impaling it. He threw the disarmed thug into a nearby empty table which gave a great crack as he fell through it. The remaining mercenary hesitated for a second, looking back at his angry boss, before proceeding forward carelessly and abruptly getting the wind knocked out of him with a single punch to his chest.
“Take this outside!” Kell shouted. “Now!” He pulled a gun on the men and held it in the air.
“That won’t be necessary,” I said, standing up firmly.
“Jason, no,” Alex exclaimed under his breath, trying to grab my wrist and pull me back down.
“The big ugly guys were just leaving, weren’t ya fellas?” I spoke louder this time, my confidence increasing with every step I took closer to the mercs.
There was a silence the likes I’ve never experienced before. The tension in the air was so palpable that you could cut it with a knife and make a sandwich out of it. To my left were a group of sweaty, angry, defeated men. To my left was a single guy who hadn’t broken a sweat, and would probably kick my ass if I said the wrong thing, too.
“Let’s go, boys,” Malus called out. He looked ready to explode. The mercenaries left without further incident.
The man looked at me for a second, scanning me over. He then walked over to me and held his hand out.
“Thank you,” he said with a smile, waiting for me to shake his hand.
I hesitated for a few seconds; this man seemed familiar to me. I breathed in slowly and took his hand. “Any time, pal. What was your name, again?” I asked while trying to remain unsuspicious.
“I’m Nicholas,” he said smoothly. “And you’re Jason Weston.” What happened next was a blur to me.
In one swift motion, Nicholas pulled my hand into his body and sucker-punched me with his free hand, while Alex simultaneously jumped out of his seat and tried to run towards me. Several of Nicholas’s hidden entourage stepped in front of him and pushed him back.
Stunned, I looked over at Alex. “Get the hell outta here, kid.”
Without a second thought, Alex got up and bolted out of the bar. Where he was going, I had no idea.
“My boss has been looking for you, Mr. Weston,” Nicholas said, his noble demeanor seeming condescending to me.
“And who the hell is your boss?” I asked, spitting up blood and a tooth.
“You’re very familiar with him. Do you recall Mr. Vane?”
Fuck.
“He’s a few planets away, and will be here in an hour or two. Let’s sit tight, shall we?”
I knew struggling would only make things worse, but I’d rather die than let Vane capture me. I did the only thing I could think of at a time like this. I did something stupid.
“Listen, Nicky Bo” I started, as I weakly got up. “This is all just a big misunderstanding.”
I looked around at his men and tried to spot the weakest and slowest one. I quickly noticed a guy who was just over five feet tall and he was the only one with his gun drawn. Bingo, I thought.
“I think you’ve got the wrong guy,” I began pleading emotionally to the henchmen that surrounded me. One bigger guy hit me straight in the jaw, almost sending me back to the ground.
“Enough,” Nicholas said venomously. “No further harm is to come to him until Vane gets here, do you understand?”
Before I let any of them answer, I shot up like a bullet at the scrawny gun-toting guy and in one fleet motion, kneed him in the gut and grabbed his gun, shooting up at the only light in the already dim-lit bar. In the confusion and ruckus, I slipped out the back door as the shouting and chaos behind me grew distant and faint.
I only stopped for a second, and that was to find my communicator. I had left it in the bar.
“You there,” I heard a voice behind me. It was slightly muffled and almost robotic, which meant than an imperial soldier was standing behind me, likely with his gun drawn. I darted off in a nearby alleyway, not looking to get locked up on this planet with Vane on his way here.
“Get that man!” the soldier said, and several guards converged on me and filtered into the alley behind me. I thought I was outrunning them, and gave myself a second to look back at them. I laughed to myself before turning back around and abruptly smacking into two guards and one officer.
“You’re under arrest by imperial decree,” the officer began.
I’d already heard this phrase enough to last me a lifetime, and I was surprised it hadn’t changed over the years like so much else of the Empire.
It's on one lone planet in the Seras System that the majority of this story takes place; Valkyr, a blue planet perfect for inhabiting organic life, and also the capital planet of the entire Galactic Empire.
For the past five years, the Seras System has held a shaky peace in the wake of the Twelve Year War. Newly-crowned emperor Christian Redd has assumed the responsibility of restoring the entire galaxy back to its former glory, the crown jewel of its neighbors and envy of every government and ruler within a hundred million light-years.
He hasn't had much success in this aspect, as intergalactic piracy, slavery, and other major criminal activity has only increased since the end of the war. Add to this the fact that a small rebellion has formed and been a constant and growing thorn in the Empire's side, destroying military and communication installations all over the Deep Black, and the situation for Emperor Redd looks rather grim.
Several factions are at work in the background with their own personal agendas, and intend on securing their own futures in the final frontier. One of the most infamous space pirate crews in the surrounding galaxies, the Vanguard, have just pulled off the greatest heist in their history worth upwards of 35million credits.
The Revenants, a shadow corporation with several fronts to keep money and recruits rolling in, has been at the center of controversy and conflict. They seem to foresee events before they occur, and are apparently one of the factions vying for control of the Deep Black. Any member who is ever captured commits instant suicide with the press of a button that detonates a small explosive implanted in their brains, preventing rival corporations or enemies from gaining classified information.
The Imperial Army has its hands full on every battlefront in the galaxy, and is facing mass desertion along these fronts. The Galactic Empire's most elite unit, The 13th Squadron, is made up of the best sharpshooters, medics, gunmen, engineers, and pilots ever to enlist, and is led by Captain James Eckert, one of the brightest young minds in the galaxy.
With conflict abound throughout the systems, and the threat of war looming on the horizon, the Deep Blacks' inhabitants prepare to take up arms and choose a side to permanently end the fight and truly attain peace.
Aboard the Paradigm
This is it. This is what I've been waiting for.
I was admiring several large bags and crates full of galactic credits. We just hit the score of a lifetime in the next galaxy over, and I've been all smiles in the days leading up to today.
"What the hell are you doing?!" an aggressive voice raged at me over my communicator.
I had landed us on a desolate field on a small moon with a limited amount of organic life, confident that I had single-handedly escaped the military and every average-Joe bounty hunter on our trail light-years ago.
The door to the cockpit opened automatically as my partner in crime Adelle T'Raal walked in, hands planted firmly on her hip and the kind of vexed expression on her face that would disarm a normal man.
"What the hell are you doing?" she inquired again, less angrily than before, her expression and body position remaining exactly the same.
"We're safe here. There's been no familiar radar activity in the last hundred or so light-years, and I-"
"You're an idiot for landing us here," she cut me off coldly, her demeanor transitioning from anger to superior. She closed her eyes and sighed, knowing I was right that we had lost our pursuers. One thing I didn't calculate was what she said next.
"Do you realize the Deep Black's galactic empire's capital planet is some-odd light-years away?" Admittedly I didn't.
While we squabbled about who was right or wrong for the millionth time this week, Alex, a kid we picked up in the last galaxy, walked into the room and started admiring the ridiculous amount of money we had secured, just like I had. I think I'm starting to like this kid.
"What do you think you're doing?" Adelle shifted her rage from myself to him with warp speed and rather unfairly. "You're supposed to be doing a systems check and inspecting the damage we've sustained."
Without so much as glancing at her, he replied "It's already done. Minimum damage that only would require a paintjob and all the systems are fully operational."
"AIDA, is this true?" Adelle asked aloud, looking up at the ceiling of the cockpit.
"Yes, Mr. Alex has completed a swift and efficient inspection of the entire ship," a comforting female voice replied.
After taking another breath and coming to some sort of internal peace, she dropped her tense shoulders and looked at the ground.
"Thanks AIDA. Sorry I've been so strung-out guys. Being a space pirate isn't easy, and being a space pirate who just robbed a bunch of huge capital ships blind is even more difficult."
I concur. These past few months have been tough for me. I've been pretty laid back in all aspects of my life. I live pretty stress-free, but stealing from the government and rival space pirates can break that quickly. Breaking my train of thought, Alex spoke rather loudly.
"So what are we gonna spend it on?"
"We're going to save it," Adelle said coldly, with a fierce look in her eyes. Alex looked at her so fast, he could've snapped his neck.
"What's the point of having this much money if we can't spend it? We should upgrade the Paradigm. A lot of her systems are outdated and we can become more efficient and-"
"No," was all Adelle said before she calculatingly stormed out of the cockpit and assumingly back to her station in the Weapons Systems room.
"She's in the wrong you know," Alex said aloud, presumably at me. I went back and sat down in my awesome red, velvety-cushioned captain's seat and laughed.
"She's a woman. She's never wrong." I poured myself a drink and laughed quietly to myself again.
"You know, you're damn smart, kid. Smart with computers and engineering and all that stuff. But you're not smart when it comes to interacting with Adelle. You've gotta know when to pick your battles." I said all this and realized I just had a fight with her about where we landed, hoping he forgot about that.
"Weren't you guys JUST arguing?"
Damn it.
"Yeah, but-" was all I could utter before suddenly, an blaring siren filled the cockpit, as a small red light began blinking by the radar screen.
"Captain, a single hostile ship in the vicinity with a similar signature as one of our pursuers just exited warp speed," AIDA calmly chimed in.
"Time to go!" I shouted, and Alex immediately left to cockpit for his station. Adelle turned her communicator back on
"What's going on?" she asked, a slight edge to her voice. Before I could reply, AIDA gave me another status update.
"Twelve more hostile signatures have just exited warp speed, Captain. Immediate evacuation is advised."
Normally I think pretty well on my feet. But with thirteen bounty hunters about to close in and capture or kill us, I stumbled and made a pretty bad decision.
"We have to go, now!" Alex shouted on the communicator.
"What's the plan, Jason?" Adelle asked, the edge in her voice getting guttural.
"I guess we're going to Valkyr," was the last thing I said before we took off and activated warp speed, leaving our pursuers in the dust once again.
Castle Eagan
I poured myself another glass of whatever kind of prissy imported drink I had in front of me. It was disgusting, but I seemed to have an unquenchable thirst. It's funny how the wealthy love this stuff.
"Lord Jackson," Martellus beckoned, visually and audibly becoming more and more impatient over time.
"It's just Jack, Martellus," I said sourly, my face wrenching with distaste at both the drink and being referred to as Jackson by my butler. I hate that name more than anything.
"Very well, Lord Jack," he started, but I cut in.
"Yes, yes, I know."
I stood up, my cool blue royal uniform almost glittering in the tired morning sun. Today is the first day of many in which I attempt to inherit the throne. Though, the means of how I do so are less than satisfactory circumstances in my opinion.
I slowly walked over to the window overlooking our castle's courtyard. Our large metal walls surrounded and protected us from enemies, and we always have several layers of nigh-impenetrable force-fields active should we come under immediate attack. But today it felt like I was imprisoned rather than protected.
All of the citizens of Calan, and even those from distant planets in the system, have gathered here today to watch me and my twin brother, Zack (who also hates his full name Zacharias) outduel and outwit each other in a series of trials, and whoever is the victory after all is said and done, will be the true heir to the Emperor. It's the stuff of legend, really.
As much as I hate my full name, I hate the prospect of battling my brother. We're both 17, we're both of royal blood, and we're both men. That is where the similarities end. I'm just under six feet tall on a good day, and he's a modest six and a half feet. I'm hovering around one hundred and sixty pounds, and, you guessed it, he's about 80 pounds bigger.
I waste my days reading books and avoiding the sunlight at all costs, gathering as much knowledge and lore as I possibly can. He's been training for this day since he was seven years old.
My father and my mother both came into my room and neither one of them knocked.
"Are you ready?" my father, the emperor, asked. But it was more of a command and less of a question.
"Of course," I said, stretching my arms out and yawning.
"This isn't some game," my mother expressed very condescendingly.
"Then why are they called the Imperial Games?" I inquired with equal amounts of sarcasm and thoughtfulness.
My mother scoffed and abruptly left the room, much to my father and I's satisfaction.
"I just want you to know, no matter what happens you're my son and I'm proud of the man you've become."
I've been waiting many years for him to say something along those lines. If only the circumstances were in my favor.
"Come on; best not to keep the people waiting."
Yeah, that's right at the top of my list of priorities.
As my father and I made our way down to the courtyard, surrounded by countless types of people, the gravity of the events that could possibly follow finally hit me. I was about to be crushed by my twin brother for the right to wear the crown and control a crumbling empire. Do I even want this?
After very long and boring ceremonies involving people from other planets that I had no interest in, it was almost time to begin.
"Jack," a familiar voice reached out to me as I had my focus elsewhere in my mind.
I looked up to see my best friend of 15 years, Aerick. Without a word, I stood up and hugged him firmly, as we both smiled and laughed. He had been more of a brother to me than the beast of a man I was going to brawl.
"Should it come to a fist-fight, I think we both know you've lost," Aerick said resolutely, his behavior shifting from familiar to grave.
"I know," I said, sobered by the reality and finality of his statement.
"Remember that his left knee is weak from the time he fell out of that tree when you were boys. As such he can no longer take a proper combat stance on his favored right side and must lean more on his right knee to compensate."
He said all of this while staring across the courtyard at my brother, glaringly. The two have come to blows before in a stalemate over a girl. I didn't expect to fare as well.
"Don't worry. I've heard the first trial is more agility-based than combat-oriented," he said suddenly cheerful.
"Well, I guess I have the upper hand being so lean and small."
A bell tolled in the distance, confirming the beginning of the first trial. My heart sank.
"Good luck, brother," Aerick said with hopeful eyes.
I nodded and adjusted my favorite black vest, walking out to the field.
I'm gonna need it.
aboard the fighter heli, The Lord's Armada
"Listen up and listen good, 13th," I said with certain bravado to my voice.
"We've got a VIP and an allied squad pinned down near the heart of this city. The VIP is Maria Peros, who holds significant importance to the brass. Local rebels have caught wind of the VIP's location and the allied rendezvous point, and have attempted to either capture or assassinate the target. Our brother squad, the 7th Squadron, has suffered several casualties, two confirmed dead and at least four more injured and in critical condition."
My voice trailed off as we got closer to the city, and it was clear to my men that we had a serious situation.
"Our mission is to secure the VIP and exfiltrate the combat zone with all of our guys, dead or alive. First, we have to make our way there undetected through the streets and get the drop on them." A hologram of the city map appeared in the center of the chopper's back area. I zoomed in on the combat zone.
"Lieutenant Harmon," I started, looking over at my second in command, who stood up abruptly.
"Once we arrive on-site, you'll take three men and hit this rooftop," I said, pointing at a tall building almost two thousand yards away from the fighting. "You will be leading fireteam Foxtrot, and you'll be performing recon before being re-tasked with sharpshooting." He grunted in confirmation, saluting and sitting back down.
"Lieutenant Olson, you're heading fireteam Charlie, and you will be giving my unit and Fireteam Foxtrot support on the ground, flanking from this western position while my unit assault from the east, where the VIP and allied units are located."
Sweat developed on my hands and my heart started racing as I announced my squad's orders.
"Bradley, Thurmon, Remington, as well as myself, will head up Bravo team. We will primarily focus on neutralizing enemy combatants and retrieving the VIP. We will rely on Foxtrot team to cover our exfil, and Charlie team to support the allied units until the Armada arrives for exfiltration."
I paused a second for dramatic effect.
"Any questions, men?"
Not a single man shook their head.
"Then we move out."
As we made our way through the war-torn shadow of a city, collapsed and burned buildings surrounding us, I couldn't help but feel something in my bones. I couldn't tell if it was something watching us, if maybe I had made a critical error in the game plan, or whatever it might be. But some unseen force had a gravitational pull on the hairs on my neck the entire operation. My fireteam was almost in position.
"Bravo 1 this is Foxtrot 1, we are in position, Captain Eckert."
"Roger that, Foxtrot 1. Charlie 1 what's your status?"
A long static-filled pause polluted the airwaves of my communicator before I received a response.
"Sorry, Bravo 1. Fireteam Charlie is now in position behind hostiles."
So far, so good. As my team approached our position, I requested an update from Foxtrot.
"There's heavy combat, Captain. Gunfire is being exchanged regularly and I see at least six bodies motionless on the field."
A greater sense of urgency enveloped me, as I picked up my pace and the rest of my squad did as well. Once we arrived, my heart was racing; not from the running, but from the adrenaline pumping through my veins. This could very well be the last day any of us live.
"Bravo team is in position," I said almost whispering. I didn't know if everyone had heard me because there was gunfire on the other side of the building we were stationed behind.
"How many hostiles do we have, Foxtrot 1?"
"I count 11 live hostiles, and 6 remaining allied units."
"Foxtrot, engage," I said loudly. I waited to hear the sounds of their high-caliber rifles fire off a couple shots before I signaled for my team to fan out and follow me to attempt to save the allies and the VIP.
As soon as I saw the battlefield with my own eyes, I gave Charlie their orders. There were at least four dead already from Foxtrot, and the remaining seven had taken cover and were fighting on two fronts. They didn't expect Charlie to come from behind them and claim two more of their soldiers by surprise.
I ran towards the allied encampment with my gun still pointed, should anyone draw on me. The remaining six capable fighters were exhausted and almost seemingly gave up until they saw my uniform. They scrambled to their feet to salute me, but I waved them off.
"We're here to get you all out of here," I said. One soldier nodded, and the rest had a look on their face like it was too good to be true, except for the one who had a mask.
"Where's Maria?"
"I'm here," the one with the mask stepped forward.
"Please remove your helmet, ma'am. We have to identify you and extract you and your men."
She took her helmet off slowly, her long brown hair fluidly whipping against the wind. Women aren't something I usually take a lot of time out of my day to think about, but this woman was beautiful. Her big brown eyes and piercing expression perforated me. It was almost like she saw my soul.
"Foxtrot, Charlie teams, we have the VIP and the targets," I started, but as I looked out towards the battlefield, all I heard was-
"David, get down!"
A rebel with a rocket launcher charged the camp and with one final act of braveness, fired it in our direction. He had shot it a little too high, as it missed us by a dozen or so feet. Unless he was trying to hit the building directly behind us. He hit that.
One of our snipers got him directly through the head seconds after he had shot at us, his lifeless body making a sickening thump as it fell to the ground.
I immediately ordered Foxtrot to request exfiltration, while Charlie charged towards us to help move the incapacitated and deceased out of the way. The building was beginning to collapse.
Before we got more than 20 yards, I heard the groan of the metal building settling, and then with a great crack, it gave way; right in our direction.
"Move!" was all I could say before frantically dragging two deceased allies myself out of the line of the building's fall. Even if we were to avoid the actual building collapsing on us, the heavy dust, dirt and smoke that would shoot out after would encapsulate and possibly kill if any unseen debris hit us.
It all seemed to happen in slow motion. I don't know how we all managed to escape the wrath of the building, but immediately after doing so; we took cover behind other fallen buildings that would hopefully absorb the brunt of the debris. We were successful.
After everything calmed down, we dusted ourselves off and reevaluated our situation. The chopper was almost here, and nobody who wasn't already dead had been killed. It was a perfect mission, except for that whole building nearly killing us.
"You are David Eckert?" Maria approached me slowly, almost calculating what I would possibly say.
"Yes ma'am, captain of the 13th Squadron in the Emperor's Army."
"You are a good leader," she said with a smile. "Your men fought bravely for you today, and you have won a great victory."
It didn't feel like a great victory but not having any of my men die as well as saving some friends is a damn good day.
"Thank you," I said, saluting her. Shortly after that, we successfully extracted all the targets and allies to our company commander's great joy.
Just another day in the office.
Corva District
It's been three whole days since my sister, Chloe, and I have had anything at all to eat.
"Skyler," my younger sibling beckons to me. "I'm so hungry."
She's only 12 years old, five years younger than me, and it's been about as many years since our parents were both killed by Imperial soldiers in a terrible crossfire. Only our parents died that day. It wasn't fair.
"I know, Chloe, I know," I said lowly, holding her malnourished body against my own for warmth. We had built ourselves a little shelter and slowly been expanding it and adding multiple little "ratways" as I like to refer to them as. That way, if we should be caught, we can escape and no one can chase us except other street kids our size.
"I'm so sleepy," she said, visibly unable to keep her eyes open from weakness and fatigue. I had to do something before we starved to death.
"Stay here, I'll go get us some food," I said, forcing a smile as I spoke in hopes that it would ease her pain a bit.
I picked up the knapsack I made and made my way up into the streets above, full of fat rich imperial citizens that could stand to lose a few credits and some valuables.
After about an hour of searching for a sweet spot with few guards and plenty of open pockets, I settled in a corner and lowered my head, remaining out of the public eye but where I could see pretty much everything. When you've been doing this your whole life, you pick up a few tricks for your own survival.
A lot of the faces were familiar to me; I'd either robbed them blind before or they've seen me attempt to and called the guards. But there was one man at a particular outside shop in strange clothes that caught my eye. In that moment I decided he would be my first target in the past few days.
The man was very tall, close to six and a half feet I would've wagered. He had a black silky cloak enveloped around him, adding a layer of both mystery and difficulty to him, as I had no idea where his wallet might be.
As I watched him shop around at the stores, I noticed he had a very peculiar gun holstered on his right thigh. It was too large to be Imperial-issue, but too small to be something forged in a rebel foundry. Something about it made me uneasy.
I was slowly building up courage to attempt to take him for all he was worth. After a few more minutes, I struck, running as fast as my weak body could straight at the man and ramming him. He fell over, and I was pretty sure I had broken a rib or two. But his wallet and gun were both on the ground, and in a split decision, I grabbed the wallet and took off before anyone could stop me.
I easily escaped the public eye because I knew the side roads and alleys like no one else in the city save for possibly the mapmakers or architects. I turned into an empty alley and opened the wallet, looking first at the man's identification card.
Name: Aiden King
Age: 35
POB: Markoz
That was all I cared to read before checking out how much money I had acquired from this oddly-successful outing.
There were enough credits in here for Chloe and I to eat and live extravagantly for years!
"Hand that back over, lad," a voice from behind me said softly and gently before touching my shoulder.
Out of fear, I spun around and weakly attempted to strike the man. He easily grabbed my free hand without exerting much force and tenderly retook his wallet.
"What's your name, kiddo?" he asked caringly, placing his wallet in his back pocket as he removed his cloak from his face. His piercing blue eyes and ruffled blonde hair looked out of place with his attire.
"I'm Skyler," I said with both anger and brevity.
"Well Skyler, I'm Aiden" the man said, his voice still as soft as a mother's speaking to her newborn baby. "I'll tell you what. Since you went to all that trouble to rob me, I'll give you a little something."
Aiden reached into his pocket and took his wallet out and generously gave me a handful of credits; enough for us to still eat lavishly for months. I lit up.
"Thank you, sir!" I exclaimed, almost passing out from a combination of hunger and disbelief. He ruffled my messy hair, not doing it any favors, with a smile.
"Now how about you stop robbing honest people blind? You might get caught and regret it one day." And with that, the man slipped his cloak back over his head smoothly, turned his back and walked away, disappearing around the corner.
With the money that the stranger Aiden had given me, I began running ecstatically through the streets back to our shelter to show Chloe. On the way, I ran face-first into three drunken mercenaries that I had stolen from before.
"Watch where the hell you're going, you little brat!" one man said, his hand on his head.
"Wait, Samuel… does he look familiar to you?"
The man who looked the biggest and the strongest took a hard look at me, studying my face and searching his memories. I knew he remembered me because his face changed from studious to anger nearly instantly.
"Get 'em boys!" was all I heard after I took off running towards the shelter; towards Chloe. I had faith that I would lose these guys, and was smiling and laughing the whole way home like it was some game.
But I didn't lose them. I grew tired very quickly, and their long legs granted them larger strides and they had much more stamina than I did. I barely made it to our little shelter's manhole. As I attempted to slide my way in, one of them grabbed my ankle and yanked me back out.
"You thought you could run from the Ospreys?!" the man holding me in the air by my leg screamed. I knew it was rhetorical.
Him and another of the three mercs took turns brutally punching and kicking me. I screamed out but it felt like ages between punches and kicks that eventually I just accepted the fact that I was probably gonna die. As long as Chloe was okay, it didn't matter. But I thought ahead too soon.
"Skyler?" a quiet voice softly echoed through the alley. The third man, the leader, walked over to the manhole just as Chloe poked her head out.
"Chloe get back in there!" I screamed again, my voice cracking in fear. I didn't care what happened to me, but my sister was the only thing keeping me sane and alive.
I was too late. The man ripped her out of the manhole by her hair and she began screaming and kicking, trying to escape him.
The other two dropped me and I hit the hard pavement with a thud.
"Don't you hurt a fucking hair on her head," I said, rage building up inside of me. I wiped blood from my mouth but it didn't matter, since new blood replaced it in seconds.
"Yeah, we wouldn't want you to kick our asses, right?" one of the henchmen said followed by a chuckle. I've only ever wanted to kill the imperial guards who took my parents, but these guys were right under them on my little blacklist.
"Put your hands up!" I heard a voice say beyond the mercenaries. There were five Imperial guards with their weapons drawn.
"You're under arrest by imperial decree," the leader of the guards spoke again, and the grip on his assault rifle grew tighter.
The two mercenaries who were beating me to a pulp earlier pulled their guns faster than lightning and instantly shot three of the guards, who then spread out behind cover and began exchanging gunfire.
I feebly crawled to a safe spot away from the gunfire before I heard a bloodcurdling scream. It wasn't a man's scream. It was the kind of scream a little girl would make.
No, I thought. No, this isn't real.
I poked my head up from behind cover, and the gunfire had ceased. The man who held my sister by her hair had her up as a shield, then quickly dropped her and ran. She had clutched something around his neck before she was dropped. One merc was dead in a puddle of his own blood, the other was wounded, and the imperial guards moved in to chase the man as one went to check on Chloe. I raced over, feeling numb to every emotion except fear.
She wasn't moving and her dirty white shirt was now covered in red, with a bullet hole on each side of her body marking where a stray bullet entered and exited her body.
I held her lifeless body in my hands as I let her blood wash over me. I couldn't feel anything. What came next was like something out of a movie. I couldn't control m body, it was as if something had taken me over.
I took the thing Chloe was clutching before she died; it was the man's dog tags.
His name was Samuel Pearce. He was a member of the rebellion. I zoned out as the only color I could see was red. Then the injured merc's cries of agony brought me back to reality, and I moved fluidly over to the wounded man.
I could see that he was bleeding profusely, and he wouldn't survive without immediate medical help.
"Help me, man," he pleaded. This was one of the men who was beating the shit out of me moments earlier. I was going to oblige him. Without feeling myself move, I moved my hands to his bullet wound.
"There?" I asked, knowing that it was obviously the source of his pain.
He nodded desperately. He wanted anything to end the pain.
"Okay, this might hurt a little bit," I said emotionlessly. I took one look at my clean hands before I acted.
I dug both of my hands into his wound and began to rip and tear at it. He struggled, doing anything to frantically kick me away. But it didn't matter. By the time one of the guards got to me, I had already pulled his stomach out with one hand, ensuring his death. He would suffer and die like my parents. He would suffer and die like Chloe.
The guard pulled me off of him and screamed something, but I was deaf to everything. I was staring at the man I had just killed. I knew it wouldn't bring my family back, but I knew that it would hold the pain over for a while until I got my hands on Samuel Pearce. But he wouldn't have such an easy death. I didn't know how I would kill him, but it would be in the most painful way I could imagine. I put his dogtag around my neck after being brought into an imperial holding facility. I was going to be placed in jail for killing the man, and would await trial. But who would be placed in jail for killing my sister? No one.
No one.
No one was going to answer for the death of my sister today. But I will make someone answer for it. This, I swear.
‘The Hot Handle’ dive bar, Slums District
It’d been four days since we lost our pursuers. We’ve been lying low and spending as little money as we could in hopes that we’ll finally be in the clear. Exhibiting restraint is one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done, and this is coming from the only man who’s escaped the mining colony’s prisons on Atlus III.
We were in a nice little corner of this run-down bar. I’ve had at least four drinks, and I was only now starting to feel the buzz. I had Alex with me to keep an eye out for suspicious figures, but in this part of Calan, everyone is suspicious. Hooded figures everywhere, the stench of death and blood in the air… it’s enough to make even the calmest monks of Tyrus to break their vow of silence and seek safety.
“Rumor has it that there’s a space pirate and his crew around here,” I heard the bartender whisper to a patron.
“Shit, there’s loads of space pirates in this damned city,” the burly patron replied with an uneducated Imperial accent, seemingly offended by the obviousness of the bartender’s ‘rumor’.
“Yes, but how many have infiltrated an intergalactic bank and escaped both the authorities and one of the fiercest bounty hunters to tell the tale?” the bartender whipped back, smiling smugly at the juiciness of this little tidbit.
“Yer fuckin’ lyin’,” the patron spewed his beer at the bartender and grabbed him by the cuffs of his dirty, wrinkled shirt, his face crumpled into anger. “I’ll have Weston’s head on a pike soon enough, but he’s not stupid enough to be in this system. Not after what him and his crew did to me last time.”
“I have reliable sources in the Empire, Malus,” the bartender said calmly, gripping the patron’s hands and easily removing them from his collar without effort. Malus started grunting in pain as the man slowly sprained his wrists.
“Let go, Kell, let me go!” Malus started to yell. Several other patrons looked over at the two.
“And if you ever, ever, touch me again,” Kell started. He loosened his grip on Malus’ hands. “I swear to you, I will break every little bone in your body, starting with those,” he said, gesturing to the hands Malus was rubbing painfully.
I watched on at the exchange expressionless, not wanting to draw too much attention to myself or Alex. Malus looked around at the other patrons who were observing.
“The hell are you lot lookin’ at?” he coldly asked, but no man was brave enough to reply save for one.
“I’d watch your tone, sir,” a tall yet slender man arose from his seat, also possessing an Imperial accent, albeit a proper one.
“Oh yeah? And what ‘er you gonna do abou’ tit?” he turned to face the man who seemed to be alone. Several of his cohorts rose from their seats and positioned themselves behind Malus.
“I’d rather not come to blows, especially in a nice place like this,” the man spoke sarcastically, yet with a calm demeanor.
“You think I give a damn what you would rather do? Teach this highborn fucker a lesson, will ya fellas?”
Three of Malus’ minions rushed the man, one possessing a long-bladed knife. The man kicked a heavy wooden chair at one, disorienting him. He immediately disarmed the guy with the knife, throwing it at the other man’s foot, easily impaling it. He threw the disarmed thug into a nearby empty table which gave a great crack as he fell through it. The remaining mercenary hesitated for a second, looking back at his angry boss, before proceeding forward carelessly and abruptly getting the wind knocked out of him with a single punch to his chest.
“Take this outside!” Kell shouted. “Now!” He pulled a gun on the men and held it in the air.
“That won’t be necessary,” I said, standing up firmly.
“Jason, no,” Alex exclaimed under his breath, trying to grab my wrist and pull me back down.
“The big ugly guys were just leaving, weren’t ya fellas?” I spoke louder this time, my confidence increasing with every step I took closer to the mercs.
There was a silence the likes I’ve never experienced before. The tension in the air was so palpable that you could cut it with a knife and make a sandwich out of it. To my left were a group of sweaty, angry, defeated men. To my left was a single guy who hadn’t broken a sweat, and would probably kick my ass if I said the wrong thing, too.
“Let’s go, boys,” Malus called out. He looked ready to explode. The mercenaries left without further incident.
The man looked at me for a second, scanning me over. He then walked over to me and held his hand out.
“Thank you,” he said with a smile, waiting for me to shake his hand.
I hesitated for a few seconds; this man seemed familiar to me. I breathed in slowly and took his hand. “Any time, pal. What was your name, again?” I asked while trying to remain unsuspicious.
“I’m Nicholas,” he said smoothly. “And you’re Jason Weston.” What happened next was a blur to me.
In one swift motion, Nicholas pulled my hand into his body and sucker-punched me with his free hand, while Alex simultaneously jumped out of his seat and tried to run towards me. Several of Nicholas’s hidden entourage stepped in front of him and pushed him back.
Stunned, I looked over at Alex. “Get the hell outta here, kid.”
Without a second thought, Alex got up and bolted out of the bar. Where he was going, I had no idea.
“My boss has been looking for you, Mr. Weston,” Nicholas said, his noble demeanor seeming condescending to me.
“And who the hell is your boss?” I asked, spitting up blood and a tooth.
“You’re very familiar with him. Do you recall Mr. Vane?”
Fuck.
“He’s a few planets away, and will be here in an hour or two. Let’s sit tight, shall we?”
I knew struggling would only make things worse, but I’d rather die than let Vane capture me. I did the only thing I could think of at a time like this. I did something stupid.
“Listen, Nicky Bo” I started, as I weakly got up. “This is all just a big misunderstanding.”
I looked around at his men and tried to spot the weakest and slowest one. I quickly noticed a guy who was just over five feet tall and he was the only one with his gun drawn. Bingo, I thought.
“I think you’ve got the wrong guy,” I began pleading emotionally to the henchmen that surrounded me. One bigger guy hit me straight in the jaw, almost sending me back to the ground.
“Enough,” Nicholas said venomously. “No further harm is to come to him until Vane gets here, do you understand?”
Before I let any of them answer, I shot up like a bullet at the scrawny gun-toting guy and in one fleet motion, kneed him in the gut and grabbed his gun, shooting up at the only light in the already dim-lit bar. In the confusion and ruckus, I slipped out the back door as the shouting and chaos behind me grew distant and faint.
I only stopped for a second, and that was to find my communicator. I had left it in the bar.
“You there,” I heard a voice behind me. It was slightly muffled and almost robotic, which meant than an imperial soldier was standing behind me, likely with his gun drawn. I darted off in a nearby alleyway, not looking to get locked up on this planet with Vane on his way here.
“Get that man!” the soldier said, and several guards converged on me and filtered into the alley behind me. I thought I was outrunning them, and gave myself a second to look back at them. I laughed to myself before turning back around and abruptly smacking into two guards and one officer.
“You’re under arrest by imperial decree,” the officer began.
I’d already heard this phrase enough to last me a lifetime, and I was surprised it hadn’t changed over the years like so much else of the Empire.
