Hybrid Saga 01 - Hybrid (10 page)

“Jarred Archer,” she repeated, letting the name sink in. “A good name.”

He gave her an annoyed look and she couldn’t help but grin.

“Well, Jarred,” she began again, a little awkwardly, her next admission coming out of her with some difficulty. “I wanted to say thank you. You know, for what you did. Helping us, I mean.”

Jarred looked at her, seeming a bit surprised, and even somewhat amused, which only made the whole thing that much harder.

“For both times,” she continued, reluctantly. “You know . . . with those men on the street.”

He gave her a crooked grin. “Nah. Like you said, you had that taken care of.”

Elora rolled her eyes at herself, then smiled.

“Well, anyway,” she continued. “Thanks for helping us.”

“No need,” Jarred said, shaking his head. “We’re not out of anything yet. Tell you what, though. If you really want to, I’ll remind you to thank me later once we’ve made it off this rock.”

Elora grinned. “You mean
if
we make it off this rock, right?”

“Right,” he answered, grinning back at her.

Elora kept smiling, holding Jarred’s gaze for a few moments longer, suddenly looking away as she began to feel her cheeks flush. She struggled to come up with a quick change of subject, her mind suddenly numb with embarrassment.

“So,” she began slowly, thinking of only one question to ask. “What is it like?”

“What is
what
like?”

“Being a bounty hunter?” she prodded. “You know, traveling all over the system, meeting new and interesting beings, and vaporizing them.” She laughed at her own joke and looked over to Jarred expecting him to be as well. His good humor seemed to have left him though and his mood had become cold and serious again. He stopped walking and stood motionless, staring out at seemingly nothing as far as she could tell. They stood there for what felt like ages to her and she immediately regretted having asked the question.

“Listen,” she began. “I didn’t mean to pry. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. It’s really none of my business.”

Elora realized she was babbling, but couldn’t help it. It was just something that happened when she got nervous. She forced herself to stop and take a deep breath. To her surprise, Jarred slipped his hand around his back and removed his rifle, bringing it up into both hands.

“What are you doing?” she asked, completely thrown off by his inexplicable actions.

He had managed only a glance in her direction when suddenly the sand in front of them quaked, sinking in on itself briefly before exploding upwards into the air, a dark figure shooting out of the ground with it, lunging straight for Jarred.

Elora jumped back in surprise and saw Jarred raise his rifle to fire at his attacker, but being caught off guard, was too slow. The creature knocked the weapon from his hands as a shot blasted out of it. She saw Jarred take a few cautious steps back, the vicious looking sand creature leaping at him again, letting lose an ear piercing screech. Reaching back, he drew a short, but broad bladed weapon from a sheath strapped to his back; the blade’s apparently mechanical sections splitting and shifting apart in a split second, snapping back into place to form a longer narrower sword; and spinning in a circle, swept it horizontally around his body, dropping the creature as the blade sliced through it.

Elora’s peripheral vision caught movement to her right and she turned to see another of the creatures bursting up from beneath the sand. Expecting the creature to attack, she was already turning to run, but stopped when it began charging
away
from her. Following its movement, she was horrified to see it barreling towards Ethan and Orna, who were standing only a short ways off from her.

Elora screamed out for Ethan as the creature leaped straight at him, only to see it vanish in a blur as Jarred intercepted it less that a meter away from her brother, impaling it with his sword. Not even a second later, while still standing over the dead sand creature, he pulled a knife from a sheath behind his waist, turned and hurled it back towards her.

Shocked by the action, she stood frozen, only to see the blade skewer a creature that had just burst up out of the sand behind her. It dropped to the ground in a dead heap at her feet. She looked back in time to see Jarred dive and roll across the sand, picking up his rifle as he came up to one knee, before taking aim and discharging a spray of plasma rounds in the direction of the new sand creatures that seemed to be emerging from the sand in all directions.

Elora spotted another of the creatures barreling towards her, and reacting quickly, dropped to the dead creature beside her, pulling Jarred’s dagger from its body. The screeching sand creature was already over her when she turned back around, barely thrusting the dagger outwards before being toppled over by it. The creature’s war cry turned into one of agony as it began thrashing about on top of her, the dagger having buried itself deep in its midsection.

Elora struggled to squirm and kick her way out from under the writhing creature, suddenly crying out in pain as one of its sharp claws dug into her leg. She kicked at the beast and managed to free herself from beneath it, quickly scrambling away backwards, and watched as its wild thrashing slowly subsided before lying very still.

She heard a few more shots from Jarred’s plasma rifle and looked around to see the remaining creatures beginning to retreat back into the sand, appearing frightened by the loud blasts, and disappearing beneath its surface. Lying back in the sand, Elora struggled to catch her breath, feeling her heart nearly pounding out of her chest. Jarred was at her side within a few moments, kneeling down next to her.

“Are you all right?” he asked, his concern genuine, as he looked her over.

Elora only nodded in affirmation, unable to find her voice to say anything, trying in vain to raise her head off the ground. Jarred put a hand on her shoulder, holding her in place.

“Lie still,” he spoke softly. “Try to calm down. You need to breath.”

Elora could feel the tears welling up in her eyes now, the rush of adrenaline beginning to fade, being replaced by the emotional stress of the attack. She did as Jarred said and, remaining still and taking a few deep breaths, tried to regain control of herself.

“It’s over,” Jarred assured her, keeping his hand on her shoulder.

Her breathing began to return to normal again, though she was still a bit shaken from the whole ordeal, and made an attempt to get up, stopping short.

Ethan!
Suddenly her fear returned as she lifted herself up enough to look around frantically for her brother.

“Ethan?” she cried, desperately trying to find him. “Ethan!”

“I’m fine, Elora,” came Ethan’s reply, as he stepped up to kneel at her side.

She took hold of his arm, breathing a sigh of relief and watched as Jarred stood back up, slinging his rifle over his shoulder, before walking back towards where his sword stood upright, buried partially in a dead sand creature’s chest. Pulling the sword free, he looked over to Orna, who Elora noticed, was still standing where she always had been, calm as ever.

“What about you?” he asked her.

“I am fine,” came Orna’s simple reply.

Jarred only nodded to her and walked back over to where Elora was still sitting in the sand. He held out his hand, helping her to her feet, at the same time noticing the wound on her leg.

“You’re hurt,” he remarked.

“It’s nothing,” she replied, the discomfort obviously showing in her expression when she winced at putting weight on it.

Jarred stabbed his sword into the sand, and tearing a piece of material from his own clothing, knelt down in front of her, carefully dressing the wound. Feeling a bit awkward, she stood still, allowing him to finish.

Standing, Jarred removed his sword from the ground, depressing a button on the hilt, which caused the blade to snap apart again and revert to it’s former dimensions, and sheathed it behind his back. “Are you okay to walk?” he asked.

“Yes,” Elora answered, rubbing her leg lightly. “It’s not bad.”

“We should keep moving then,” he suggested with a nod.

“What were those things?” she asked, her eyes locked on the dead creatures lying in sand around them.

“Radanks,” Jarred answered, looking around their general area. “Sand creatures, brought here back when this moon was being terraformed. One of the few species that managed to flourish on this rock. They were frightened off, but that doesn’t mean they won’t come back.”

That thought didn’t sit well with Elora at all and she nodded her head in total agreement of leaving. She wasn’t remotely interested in staying around long enough to see any more of these
radanks
. Taking hold of Ethan’s arm, she moved right up alongside of Jarred, walking with a slight limp.

Orna hovered along just behind, calm and cool as ever, seeming completely unaffected by the incident. Elora found it annoying, considering her heart was still racing wildly in her chest. She took a final look behind her, just to be sure that none of the supposedly dead sand creatures was creeping up behind them, then turned her attention back in the direction they were heading.

The sun was beginning to set in the distance, transforming the desert into a reddish tinted sea of sparkling sand and making the horizon indistinguishable as earth and sky blended into one other. The strange sight brought a welcome close to a very long day.

Hopefully, the rest of their journey would be dull by comparison.

SECT  FLEET  COMMAND  SHIP,  
BORS’CHA 
,

ORBITING  ISYSS

The High Commander’s flagship was colossally built, a wonder of technological destructiveness that wrought terror on all who gazed upon it, a fact that Traug was quite proud of considering he had negotiated its sale to the Dominion, along with most elements of the current Sect fleet. The heavily armored behemoth packed enough firepower to adequately devastate the surface of the small moon it was currently orbiting, had Durak so wished it done. If it had not been required of him to return this Orna to his superiors alive, Traug believed that he surely would have done so.

Durak’s displeasure with the current situation was easily apparent to Traug, as the High Commander had been sitting motionless in his command seat, staring at the moon through the front viewscreen with the same, unchanging scowl for the past few hours. The rest of the bridge crew had obviously taken notice as well, as they were all purposely avoiding actions that would draw any attention to themselves, performing their duties as discreetly and quietly as possible. The Gnolith were known for being a quite temperamental and volatile species, it not being at all abnormal for Durak to have officer’s put to death when disappointed with their performances.

Traug could understand the elimination of an unproductive link in the command chain, of course. That was just good business, but the elimination of so many of the wasteland refugees had left him with a sour taste in his mouth. He had not come away with anywhere near to what he would have considered reasonable compensation for the information he’d delivered to Durak. He dared not let his dissatisfaction with the outcome of the raid be known, however. In the High Commander’s current state, Traug knew that even his own life could easily be traded for a brief moment of primitive gratification. It was a near miracle that Durak had allowed any of the refugees to live at all, especially considering his mood at the time.

Durak had flown into such a rage after learning Orna had escaped his grasp, that Traug had thought it best to remain quiet and let the tantrum pass before divulging any more of the information he had of her next destination. At the time, the High Commander may have just ignored his words and had him vaporized for speaking at all. He continued to hold his tongue still because to reveal her whereabouts now would gain him nothing. Why give the information away when Durak was no longer offering anything for it?

So, for the past several hours they had simply waited in orbit around the small moon, detaining any off world bound vessels in a vain, and so far, fruitless attempt at capturing their elusive target. The true depth of her importance was still unknown to Traug, and that fact did not sit well with him. He did not like to be in the dark about anything, especially when he had a stake in the outcome.

The ship captain, Malik, Traug recalled, caught his attention as he passed by and approached Durak’s command seat, appearing surprisingly calm considering the High Commander’s mood. He came to an abrupt halt and saluted, Durak regarding him without removing his gaze from the view screen.

“What is it, Captain?” he grumbled.

“Sir,” Malik began. “One of our reconnaissance squads on the surface has located a crashed vessel matching that which the target was witnessed boarding during our raid on the wasteland outpost.” Durak turned from the viewscreen at that, his demeanor changing considerably. “What of the target? Does she live?”

“No remains were found, sir,” Malik answered. “It is reasonable to assume the target is still alive and on the surface.”