Eternal Horizon: The Chronicle of Vincent Saturn (Eternal Horizon: A Star Saga Book 1) (15 page)

“Let them go once we complete our task,” Exander replied, going through their weapon bag.

“But they saw our
facesss
!” The reptilian panicked.

“And now the precise location of your little novelty store,” Kane instigated.

Exander stood up, looking at Servillas and Kane. “They’re not soldiers. There’s no honor in killing innocent people.”

“
Honor?
” Kane scoffed.

Exander frowned. “You
will
let them go and burn this place down.”

“
Burn
the place?” Servillas exclaimed.

“Yes, burn it,” Exander said and then turned to the Dirsalian. “Spaide?”

Spaide pulled out his handheld device and showed its screen to the reptile. “Transfer’s complete.”

The creature shut his mouth and charitably bowed before the blonde. “
Asss
you wish.”

“Wait a minute…” Spaide shoved Servillas aside and went to the pile of junk in the corner. He grabbed the handle of what seemed to be a large cart and gave it a tug, scattering the junk all over the room. He then whirled on one heel and said, “I think I’ve got a plan.”

The
Nomad

Two sentries stood guard outside the cargo entrance at the stern of the ship. The task they were given was the envy of the rest of the crew, virtually lacking any responsibility other than standing around and keeping an open eye. But, like everything else in the universe, even such a post ultimately becomes a victim of laziness. Being a guardian soldier of General Na’ar’s warship at first sounded like a prominent position, but after days and days of the same routine, it had become a killer, leaving the guards fragile and ignorant. The only actions they ever witnessed were occasionally fending off spaceport bums or chasing away prying kids.

“Did you hear about the new PR1700?” said one of them, sitting on a metal crate and polishing his rifle with a cloth.

“Yeah,” replied the other, looking out for commanding officers. “The one that holds seventeen hundred rounds and spits twenty per second?”

“That’s fast,” the former continued. “I’d love to get my hands on one of those. With it you could wipe out an entire battalion devoid of recharging.”

The latter scoffed. “You’ve got a long way till that promotion.”

“Not as long as you.”

“Like we’re ever going to use it anyway,” the standing guard said, kicking away a pebble. “I don’t know if I’m ever going to see a battle, much less a promotion.” And then he muttered to himself, “Who would’ve thought the military could be so boring?”

“I heard we ran into some action on
Zazaban
.”

The footed guard turned around. “Really?”

“Yes, and that we’re carrying a very important prisoner.”

“That’s drivel. You shouldn’t listen to that gossip.”

“Oh yeah?” The seated guard looked up. “And what were we doing on that barren planet, huh? And why do you think they have both of us watching this gate?”

“But we would’ve been told by now…”

“He may be so important that they decided not to inform us at all. It may even be…” The sentry put aside the cloth, looked around, and then leaned forward, whispering, “Oryon Krynne himself.”

The latter gasped. “Oryon Krynne?”

“Hush your mouth!” The former nearly jumped up. “Mentioning that name alone can get you locked up, you idiot.”

“Someone’s coming.” The standing guard clenched his rifle.

An odd group clad in blue jumpsuits approached them. A Dirsalian man was leading the way, carrying nothing more than a small handheld computer. Following him was a young Xenian man in a blue bandana. Behind him was another creature—a female, from what the guard could tell—her face covered in a gas mask. And at the rear of the gang was a huge Xenian man pushing a cart full of equipment.

“Finally, it’s that damned maintenance crew,” the seated guard said. “Deal with them.”

“Sure, don’t bother getting up,” the latter said and walked up to the peculiar group.

“You’re late,” were the guard’s first words as he neared them.

“We were working on another ship,” the smaller Xenian replied.

“Wait a minute…” The guard paused, his hand beginning to anxiously twitch on his rifle. “Why are you Xenian?”

“We came from a different ship,” the Dirsalian calmly said, providing the guard with the necessary papers. “The
Nabulian
crew is busy with the gas leak on the carrier at the east platform.”

“What kind of crew?”

“
Nabulian
.”

“I’ve never heard of…
Nabulia
…”

“What’s the problem?” the first guard shouted. “Let them through—we’re taking off soon!”

“It’ll be quick,” the Dirsalian assured.

“It doesn’t look like it’s going to be quick.” The guard eased up but still hesitated, looking at the papers and at the cart.

“Some parts need to be swapped, but most of this junk just needs to be placed on the deck.”

“The lieutenant will have our carcasses!” the other sentry continued.

“Okay!” the guard retorted. He then turned back to the group and asked, “Can you do it in twenty minutes?”

“Oh, we’ll try to do it in fifteen,” the Xenian man said, smiling and looking over at his giant companion.

“Go ahead.” The guard stepped aside, and the crew hurried up the ramp.

“You’re too jumpy,” the other guard said as the maintenance group went into the ship. “If you’re so eager for action, transfer to the main army units or something.”

“No, it’s just—”

“What?”

The younger guard squared his shoulders. “Nothing.”

“Remember, we’re just here to watch the gate. You can’t go on pointing your gun at everyone.”

“Well…” The latter sighed. “I guess you’re right. The lieutenant did tell us to make sure the crew gets on board before takeoff.” Then he walked back to his fellow officer and—for the last time—took his post.

*

The companions went past more security guards into the belly of the ship, ending up in a circular room full of machines, generators, compressors, pumps, and gears with hundreds of robots operating them. The soaring ceiling was over four hundred feet high, barely visible through the numerous bridges that overlapped this huge area on every floor, hosting countless patrolling soldiers.

“The lower decks,” Spaide whispered, leading the way. “They mostly contain engine rooms and cargo holds.”

The worker robots were of small stature, slightly over four feet in height with three legs beneath their torso for faster progress. They worked at an unparalleled pace and completely ignored anything outside their programing. Bigger robots hauled apparatus and turned gears, and a few stocky, hominoid creatures resembling walking manatees checked them for malfunctions.

The group swiftly went to a small entrance without getting any attention. They had made it through the hard part. All they had to do now was hurry, for time was their biggest enemy.

Spaide approached the door and began tampering with its control board. He ran a wire from the panel to his device, and—after punching a sequence—the door slid open. The team went inside, and the Dirsalian closed it once again.

They entered a faintly-lit tunnel that passed through the ship’s hull. Pipes and thick wires ran along its ceiling, disappearing into the darkness of the passage. At the left side—every fifty or so feet apart—rungs led up to entrances accessing the upper deck. Luckily for them, there wasn’t a moving thing in sight.

“This is it,” Spaide said. “The avionics hallway. It’ll be quite some time till they open this door, much less follow us or monitor this tunnel.”

“
Nabulian
?
” Exander asked, regarding Spaide’s earlier antics.

“Sorry… couldn’t help it.” Spaide smiled, pulling his gun-belt out of the cart.

“We could’ve been spotted right there!”

“Just be thankful I didn’t blast that green bastard back at Servillas’ shop. Such audacity!”

“Whatever.” Exander gave up, realizing that arguing with the Dirsalian was pointless. He then looked around and kicked the cart. “Vincent, get out.”

Vincent pushed the gadgets aside and jumped out with his rifle.

The twins took off their jumpsuits and threw them into the cart. Gaia took off the weird mask, put a net on her head, and concealed a blaster in her uniform. Spaide strapped the gun-belt around his waist before retaining the jumpsuit. He then approached the panel beside the first set of rungs and opened the door leading up.

Vincent uneasily stared down the lifeless hallway, expecting company at any time. A weird sensation passed through his system—the excitement of a crime. He hadn’t felt like that since he’d been a kid, stealing candy at a supermarket. But this was far from a supermarket, and he was pretty sure the consequences were more severe.

Spaide ascended the rungs and peeked in. “Clear,” he said, jumping down. “Be careful,” he added to Gaia.

“Don’t worry about me,” she replied, beginning to climb. “Just make sure you’re there at the precise time.” Once inside, she turned down to face them. She looked over at Vincent, and her lips formed a smile—or at least he thought they did. “Good luck,” she said, and the door closed.

“Well, I hope our Princess’s up for it,” Spaide muttered.

Exander pulled out a tiny device portraying a hologram of the ship. “Our exit’s a few doors down,” he said and then, turning to the rest of the group, asked, “Ready?”

Vincent nodded because he knew the question was directly pertaining to him. Here he was, billions of miles away from home, tired, hungry, wearing nothing but his shirt and jeans, with an extraterrestrial gun in hand and a recurring headache.
How could I not be ready?
He was ready for anything.

They passed several hundred yards and then stopped.

“Spaide.” Exander put his hand on the Dirsalian’s shoulder. “Be there, my brother, or we’ll be doomed.”

“You don’t even have to say it, son,” Spaide replied. Even through that desperate moment, the Dirsalian tried to keep his nonchalant attitude. “I’ll be there.” He put his opposite hand on Exander’s shoulder. “Remember”—he tightened his grip, looking more serious—“this is a
rescue
.”

Exander lowered his head, clenching his jaw. He knew exactly what Spaide had meant.

“Ex…”

Exander looked up. “Okay…”

“Good luck.” Spaide winked at Vincent, hugged the big guy, grabbed the cart, and strolled down the hallway ahead of them.

They waited for a minute until Spaide disappeared out of view, and then approached a set of rungs by the wall.

“It’s only a matter of time until we’re spotted,” Damocles said.

“By then, though, it’ll be too late for them to stop us,” Exander said. He reached the wall and began to rig the control panel. The gate above hissed open. He turned to his brother and Vincent. “Quietly,” he gave the final warning and ascended.

The rungs rose up into a maintenance room. There was only one door across, and it was open, exhibiting the area beyond. They dashed to either side of the opening.

Exander peeked in for a fraction of a second.

The sector of the ship beyond was a round area that rose up hundreds of feet and was overlapped by bridges with more patrolling guards. The walkways camouflaged the floor in shadows, giving them a perfect opportunity to make their way across.

Exander looked over at his brother and extended four fingers. Damocles nodded in response, and they safely crossed the room.

They entered another undersized space full of machinery. There, behind a desk composed of computers, stood a guard. As they rushed into the room, he turned to face them with a startled look, but before he could react, Exander leapt forward and snapped his neck.

The guard’s limp body fell by their feet.

A cold feeling overtook Vincent as he stared down at the corpse. It all happened so fast. The poor kid didn’t even know what was going on…

“Wake up!” Exander shook Vincent. “There’ll be more of this,” he said, signifying that this was just a sample of things to come.

Vincent swallowed, straightened himself, and followed.

The room exited into a tunnel. To their right, the passageway extended beyond sight with many doors, and to the left, it ended abruptly into a shadowy corner where a ladder led up into a shaft.