Voyage of the Sanguine Shadow 1: Shadow Galactic (8 page)

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Authors: Erik P. Harlow

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BOOK: Voyage of the Sanguine Shadow 1: Shadow Galactic
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She quietly laughed and shook her head. 
“Perhaps.”

They watched as the ellogon warship drew near.

“Incoming transmission,” a young man announced
from Zerki’s left.

“Put him through,” she replied.  A close-up of the
ellogon captain instantly replaced the image of the Turii-class cruiser. 
“Merchant Prince Lodoxol, son of Perymdak.”

“Greetings, Captain Ibarra and interested
stakeholders,” said the Merchant Prince, slowly and with minimal inflection. 
His skin was supple, the brown of rich river mud, and his eyes were entirely
black.  A long snout extended from his face, and two prominent tusks protruded
from the top of his mouth.  Gold and silver jewelry adorned his tusks and
teardrop, backswept ears.  “You’re early, Captain, and that’s almost as rude as
being late,
eh hm
.  Almost.”

She answered, “Greetings to you, mighty and
well-envied Merchant Prince.  I have your payment.”

“How nice,
eh hm
.”  He leaned out of view
briefly and muttered something in his native tongue before returning to view. 
“I’ll come over on my shuttle to collect the payment in person.” 
Unceremoniously, he cut the feed, and the external view of his starship
returned to the screen.

Valerie stated, “He’s bringing over his personal
guard.”  She looked toward Gavin.  “He suspects something special was behind
our early arrival.”

“Damn it,” Zerki muttered.  “Are you certain?”

She nodded in response.  “He’s definitely got his
guard with him, though I’m not sure it has anything to do with his suspicions. 
I don’t sense that they’re connected.”

Wearing a troubled expression, the captain
whispered, “Why would he be sending over his guard?”

·· • ··

Adrift amidst countless tons of assorted debris,
D’Arro watched a large shuttle ease into view from the forward portion of the
ellogon cruiser.  Its rear thrusters fired, and it moved swiftly into motion,
closing on the
Sanguine Shadow
.  At length, he exhaled evenly and said
into his comm, “Alright, everyone, push the tether button, and we’ll all form
up on my sled.”  Dozens of boosters fired, and quickly all the sleds moved
close enough to form something of a crude cylinder.  “I’m setting the entry
point,” D’Arro explained.  “In just a little bit, we’ll be launching at that
cruiser’s aft storage area.  It’ll be jarring when we hit, so be ready for it.”

As soon as Lodoxol’s shuttle was no more than a
bright mote against the starry vast, D’Arro urged the sleds into motion. 
Rapidly, all eight accelerated as one, bearing down on the cruiser’s aft
section, just below the main thrusters.  Each tiny sled towed a large piece of
debris, which slammed into the hull along with their impact.  Tow cables
released, and a clutter of space junk drifted away from the point of
collision.  Deeply embedded into the starship’s hull, the sleds’ automated
systems activated cutting lasers, and within moments, a massive octagonal slab
of metal dropped into the cluttered storage bay.  Atmosphere puffed out from
the wounded starship, and the sleds clamshelled open to disgorge their
passengers.

Her heart racing, Taryn clamored into the breached
hold along with D’Arro, Takeo and the others.  Their armor was the same
particular black that dressed the
Sanguine Shadow
, and they wore their
starship’s name in white letters on each of their left shoulders.  Surnames had
been emblazoned on the right shoulders, although at least Taryn’s and Takeo’s
were currently inaccurate.  “Your last name is Cray?” asked Taryn.

“Yes.  Try to stay off comms,” D’Arro answered. 
Quickly, he scaled the inner hull and sprayed sealant all along the edge of the
opening, before dropping back to the deck.  A thin, foamy film stretched across
the gap, closing it off within seconds, and the bay soon pressurized.  He
nodded and pointed toward the bulkhead, prompting his team to fall in behind
him.  He opened the door and took a moment to get his bearings from the data
display inside his helmet.  “Beta Team, engine room is that way.”  He extended
his right arm.  “Meet back here in five.  Do
not
be late.  Alpha Team,
with me.”

Takeo clapped Taryn’s armored shoulder.  “Good
luck,” he said and hurried after three others as they made their way to the
engine room.

“This way,” said D’Arro, and Taryn moved behind
him, along with two more.  “Stay close, rookie.  We’re disabling fire control
and meeting the others back at the breach.  We might run into a repair crew
coming down to check out that hole we made.  Use kid gloves; ellogons usually
put their slaves on repair duty, and no one needs to die.  If Captain’s right
about this guy trying to make a play for the
Shadow
, most everyone else
is going to be on standby, awaiting boarding orders.”

Taryn asked, “What if the captain’s wrong?”

One of her squad mates dryly laughed, “Then that
would be a first.”

The hall teed into a wider passage, and D’Arro
lunged right, the others close behind.  Up ahead at the end of the steel
corridor, the bulkhead leading to fire control stood closed.  Warning placards
dressed the nearby doorway, written in the ellogon tongue.  A tiny window in
the top of the bulkhead door offered a view into the room beyond.

Switching his suit to stealth mode, D’Arro
silently approached and peered into the chamber.  Inside, he spotted a dozen
ellogon royal guards and an older statesman, dressed in extravagant
red-and-gold finery.  The stately ellogon hunched over the weapons systems
display.  A targeting reticle hovered over the
Sanguine Shadow
’s main
thrusters, her engines outlined in red.  “He’s priming to fire,” D’Arro
breathed.  Looking to his fellows, he tapped open the door, much to the
surprise of the ellogons present.

The well-dressed ellogon, however, wickedly
grinned and brandished a plasma pistol.

·· • ··

Zerki and Valerie hurried to the main airlock on
the bottom deck of the command module.  They reached the portal in time for the
shuttle to complete its docking maneuver.  Air hissed, and the inner door
rolled aside.  Straightaway, Lodoxol and a dozen red-clad, armed and armored
guardsmen marched into the forward hold.  “Captain Ibarra,” he seethed, and his
snout curled upward as he mustered a triangular smile, slick with saliva.  He
glanced at Valerie.  “Honored minion.”

“Lodoxol, son of Perymdak.”  Her scowl
undisguised, Zerki crossed her arms and nodded toward his guard.  “What’s the
meaning of this?”

“I believe you might actually have something I
want,
eh hm
.”

“How do you mean?”

He glanced toward the lift that led to the upper
decks.  “Salvage crews are known for a lot of things, but never for being
early.  It takes you two of your hours to complete a jump, and yet you arrive
two hours early.”  He approached the elevator, and his guardsmen grunted and
growled, shoving Zerki and Valerie along with the muzzles of their rifles.

“What of it?”

He glanced backward, raising his rough brows.  “I
wonder if you aren’t hiding something new.  Something wondrously advanced,
eh
hm
.  Perhaps I should have a look around.”  He crossed the rest of the
distance to the lift and tapped the up arrow.  “Keeping new technology to
yourselves would violate the terms of the Pallas Accord, as I’m sure you’re
aware.  It could lead to a second galactic war.”  The doors opened, and he
stepped inside, gesturing for Zerki to follow.  “And I wouldn’t want that to
happen.  It might cost you everything, this time.”

Two of his guards joined him in the now crowded
elevator, and Lodoxol shook his head as Valerie approached.  “Not that one.” 
He furrowed his brow.  “She stays behind with my men.”

“Captain?” Valerie asked.

Zerki nodded solemnly.  “It’s fine.”

“Aye, Captain,” Valerie hesitantly replied, and
she glanced to the remaining soldiers as the doors closed.

Lodoxol, his henchmen and Zerki ascended to the
bridge, and the doors slid away to allow them passage.  All four stepped off,
and the bridge crew regarded the ellogons nervously.  Conversely, Collins
marched up to Lodoxol, jamming his finger into the Merchant Prince’s shoulder. 
“You can’t be here!” he barked.

Zerki raised her hand, “Stand down.”

“Captain?” the older fellow choked.

“Stand down.”

His blood still hot, Collins took a step back,
allowing Lodoxol total access to the bridge.  Unhurried, the Merchant Prince
took in the command deck, and in time his searching gaze befell the jump rig. 
He met eyes with Gavin, who swallowed visibly.  “
Eh hm
,” the ellogon
crooned, and he slowly walked toward the recessed navigation chamber.

·· • ··

Within the confines of the
Imperium
’s fire
control room, Taryn joined the pitched melee.  Her already considerable
strength was magnified tenfold by her armored pressure suit, and she tore into
a red-clad guardsman’s shell.  She cast aside pieces of his carapace.  Desperately,
he brought his rifle to bear, but she swatted it away and landed a staggering
blow to the side of his head.  Blaster fire lit up the chamber, and she spun
and ducked as glowing bolts streaked by.

A lance of white-hot plasma seared forth with a
hiss from the ellogon statesman’s weapon.  It missed its mark, reducing a
section of inner hull to flowing slag.  He fired again, and again.  The third
shot struck home, and a member of D’Arro’s Alpha Team dropped to the deck,
slain, his torso emptied and cauterized in the same terrible instant. 
“Insect,” he sneered.

D’Arro boomed, “
Leave none alive
!”

With a primal howl, Taryn pounced.  She grabbed
and twisted, and the ellogon guardsman’s neck snapped.  D’Arro attacked as
brutally, as did the third member of his combat team.  Blasters and plasma lit
up the bloody fray, and within moments, only D’Arro, Taryn, and the statesman
were standing.

The well-dressed fellow squeezed off a well-placed
shot, striking D’Arro’s shoulder, cutting through his armor and burning away
his flesh.  D’Arro yowled in agony, stumbled, falling backward.  The statesman
bellowed, “Stop!”  He pressed his plasma gun against the side of D’Arro’s
helmet, and Taryn froze.  Feebly, D’Arro tried to dislodge the barrel.  “That’s
enough,
eh hm
.  You made a noble effort, but all in vain!”

“You’re going to die,” Taryn warned.

“Do you have any idea who I am?” he asked
rhetorically, and a smug smile crawled onto his face.  Keeping his gun trained
on D’Arro, he walked slowly, deliberately to the weapons systems display
screen.  “I am Perymdak, son of Doxol, Merchant King and a member of the
Ellogon Empire’s Council of Fifty!”

Her eyes danced between D’Arro and the glowing
barrel of the ellogon’s weapon.  “I don’t like politics,” she answered.

He stooped forward, bared his tusked teeth and
barked, “You insult me?  Fine!  Say goodbye to your friends, and say hello to
your new life as my slave.”  Consumed by fury, he glanced to the weapons
display and retargeted the
Sanguine Shadow
.  When he turned back, Taryn
was already in his face, her armored hand firmly seated atop his head.

“Not on your life,” she whispered darkly.

“Taryn,” D’Arro coughed, and she squeezed. 
“Don’t!”

Perymdak’s skull burst within her grip.  Turning
to D’Arro, she said, “Come on,” and she helped him to his feet.  “Your armor’s
a mess.  It can’t form a seal with the sled anymore, so we’re going to have to
find another way off this thing.”

He weakly shook his head and struggled to lift
free his helmet.  A moment later, he dropped it to the deck and sagged. 
Drenched in sweat, his brilliant plumage was matted to his body.  “Leave me. 
Get back to your sled, Taryn.  That’s an order.”

“Right,” she answered and wryly smiled as she
helped him out of the chamber, stepping over the bodies of the fallen.  She
paused to collect a blaster rifle from a dead guard and pointed it at the
weapons screen.  She pulled the trigger, and the display went black.

Taryn hoisted D’Arro as he lost consciousness,
draped his good arm across her shoulders.  She crossed into the hall, where she
nearly stumbled into a young female dressed in nothing more than a repair
harness. 
The byriani maintenance slave resembled a
human-proportioned female, her skin slightly translucent, hinting at the chrome
circuitry woven through and part of her flesh.  A dense cluster of exquisite
and faintly glowing cables, tied up at her scalp, flowed from her head and
passed for hair.  Her eyes glowed brilliantly at first, and quickly faded to
gentle illumination.  “Oh,” she whispered.

“We need help getting off this ship,” Taryn
stated, and she halfheartedly waved the rifle at the woman she addressed.

The byriani swallowed and straightened as proudly
as she could manage.  Softly, she said, “Only if I can come.”

“What was that?”

“I’ll show you how to get off this ship,” the
byriani woman hesitantly restated, “but only if you take me with you.”

The ospyrean laughed.  “Deal.”

“Follow me.”

·· • ··

Takeo and his squad mates left the engineering
crew gagged and bound in the engine room.  It would take them days to repair
the damage to their systems, he estimated.  Within moments, he had arrived at
the breach.  “Where are the others?” he asked.

Jenn Chelsea, leader of Beta Team, shook her head
and tapped her helmet.

Right
, he thought. 
No comms
.  He
faced the hall, his back to the sleds, and his heart pounded in his ears.

Abruptly, Taryn’s voice cut in.  “We were
ambushed,” she announced.  “We lost Molin and Worral, and D’Arro’s been hit.”

“Are you alright?” Takeo asked, his throat
suddenly dry.

“I’m fine, but D’Arro’s not getting back in his
sled.”

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