Dark Matter Rising

By Toby Keen

The binary star solar system is in upheaval. The Qran Empire is on their final offensive to subjugate the galaxy and become the ultimate power, or so they think. In the midst of their war an unexpected new adversary has come into play and the Gods themselves have gotten involved for their own esoteric reasons.
Chenarr Fuikama, new to the Qran fleet finds herself unexpectedly in command of a platoon due to her familys noble blood. While across the system smugglers, mages, commanders and the possessed all vie for their own survival in the first chapter of an epic battle that will cross the borders between the discernable and the obscure.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jun 2, 2014
• ISBN: 9781496915962

Toby Keen

Toby Keen was born in 1977 and is still not dead. After making a career out of getting electrocuted, the latest jolt gave him the idea for this series of books and looks forward to writing until someone tells him to stop. Toby has had a deep-seated interest in all space-faring news since before he could walk and is always keeping up with the latest technology.

Book preview

DARK MATTER RISING

HOUSES ALIGN

Toby Keen

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AuthorHouse™ LLC

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Bloomington, IN 47403

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© 2014 Toby Keen. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse  05/30/2014

ISBN: 978-1-4969-1597-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4969-1596-2 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Characters

Deities

Definitions

PROLOGUE

The planet of Q’ran Chele had spun slower than any other celestial body for longer than any records showed. Most scholars agreed that prior to the Tural—Yuon wars some eighteen millennia ago, records had existed on Brenar that would have told of the earlier life of the planet.

Brenar was the centre-most planet of the solar system and the only civilised planet, the others promulgating minor frontier towns with little to no government or legal written histories amongst them but the war had razed the planet’s surface, all prior histories being lost to word of mouth and incomplete written accounts, then becoming myths and legends before falling into obscurity. These small populations slowly became separate races, their bodies changed over the generations by their home planets. They became the Treal, Q’ran, Ethot and Mithans.

Thousands of years passed as they looked inwards to their own worlds, rediscovering their technologies and thaumaturgy until they emerged once more from the warmth of their planets and found each other in the barrenness of space, changed in many ways, not the least being their new dialects although their base languages were the same.

Sages throughout the system postulated that the planet of Q’ran Chele had always spun slowly, never quite reaching the same speed as the other planets in the solar system although there were others that said that it was just the oldest and as such had moved at a more typical speed for so long that it had finally started to slow and break apart. This more than anything had brought the solar system together for a single unifying cause.

There had been many heated debates about the system and its origins, whether from a divine or mundane inception as well as whether or not their system was the only inhabited one in the galaxy and although these debates were visited again and again, the only thing that scholars agreed upon was that in the system, Q’ran Chele was the most ancient of the planets.

The core had cooled some time prior to the great war, although no one had found out until much later, leaving a planet that became both more frozen and more fragile, spinning slower as time progressed as unforgivingly as ever. To the race that had inhabited it through the millennia it was more than just a home, it had become the place of rebirth for their peoples, they had thrived and no matter what, it always would be even though the planet was dead.

Their legends and records had shown that the gods had spoken for the first time directly to the people of each and every planet shortly after the great war about the importance of each of the planets in the solar system, showing themselves to the populations who immediately clung to them as saviours. No matter what, their newly revealed gods had said, the planets must survive. It was more important than even the races themselves although though why this was had either never been recorded or never told. It had become a core of their ways of life and their beliefs.

At this time the peoples had spread across the seven inhabitable worlds of the system leaving just four others, but all, the gods said, were as important as one another. Such was the strength of what they had been told that no matter how many times the people’s fragmented and other religions or governments popped up, the same tenet was the foundation of them all. Protect the planets, ensure their survival, save them from every possible outcome. This had become such a powerful belief that one group had eventually created an order whose entire purpose was to stop any potential meteorites from striking a planet’s surface. It had become a ridiculed sect for centuries until the technologies combined with the innate magic they possessed changed the course of a planetary extinction sized asteroid, saving the planet Q’ran Koan from a certain destruction. This group had eventually formed an empire that survived to this day.

It was not too long after the peoples of the system had started to find their separate ways back out into the void that Q’ran Chele had begun to break apart. The planet was shattering like a dropped clay globe. Entire cities had to be relocated to be combined with others, moving to areas not lying on the new world spanning fault lines. Despite the magnitude of the destruction, it was still a sequence of events that spanned centuries, there were entire generations that saw neither an earthquake, nor a change in their day to day lives.

Almost invisible to the inhabitants en masse though, the atmosphere was disappearing and the planet was breaking apart but those in control knew that they had been charged by their gods to save the planet no matter what occurred and it was exactly what they were going to do.

Huge domed structures were created to support entire cities and the massive life giving support systems, quickly earning the nickname bubble cities. Hundreds of years passed and thirty seven of the massive domes were created, peppering the worlds crust and the peoples thought they were now safe from the death of the surface of their beloved world, but then the unthinkable occurred; a land mass no less than one tenth of the size of the planet broke away from the core in an almost continual series of earthquakes that lasted for over four generations. Days would pass when the cracking and rumbling would not cease and a few more would pass with nothing, but inevitably it would return. It became just another part of life, people lived their entire lives never leaving the planet and believing that it was just the way things were. They scoffed when visitors told them that they could move to another planet where no such problems existed; this was their planet and they were never going to leave it. The domes of the cities were reinforced almost continuously trying to counteract the constant vibrations but even anticipating what were thought to be the worst possible scenarios, two cities were still lost when their domes collapsed, removing the cities only protection from the atmosphere that had grown so thin as to be unable to support life. Most of the populace was lost in the tragedies and the days were ever remembered as Collapse days, eventually becoming holidays celebrating the continuing civilization on Q’ran Chele.

For years arguments raged about the solution to the problem. Sorceries and mundane solutions were found, tried and dismissed in abject failure. A few prominent officials were reportedly murdered in their beds for even mentioning that the planet should be abandoned. It was not the Q’ran way. The planet and their gods had provided for them, their gods had shown them how to use the magic force that surrounded them all, helping them control their world around them so now they must provide for the planet in return.

Almost at the end of the choices that anyone had imagined, a mad but brilliant engineer of the name Sol who also had training in the magical arts formed a solution; chains would be forged to hold the piece in place.

The plan was initially ignored out of hand until he showed the council that made up the ruling class, exactly how it was to be done. The chains would not just hook into the planet, they would become part of the mantle through both sorcery and mundane means and from there would attach to the cold core of the planet in much the same manner. The task became a uniting point for the entire system. Every world came forward with as much materials and man power that could be used, hundreds of priests and sorcerers died, thoroughly drained of life from the overwhelming task set to them, their gods and sorcerous bindings unable to sustain life as they gave all for the planet they so dearly loved.

Planetoids and moons elsewhere in the system were mined for metal of any use, asteroids and a few comets were captured and mined in the same way until finally the massive chain was finally complete. The mantle was moving no further, not inching away as it had for so very long and the celebrations ranged far and wide. The problem was slowly forgotten as one year passed into two, into ten and so forth until one day another part of the planet started to decay.

Centuries passed in this manner. Chains were forged for every single segment as the rest of the planet cracked into ten more newly formed continents. The atmosphere completely gave out during this time and what had once been the core of the planet transformed into a single massive anchor point for each chain, eventually becoming a metal moon covered in arcane symbols, made up almost entirely of enchanted metal.

Finally there could be no more movement, every landmass was enchanted and protected by the chains holding them in place. Eleven satellites surrounding the incredible central moon spinning slowly as it orbited the binary stars that gave the system life. The biggest fear for this time was that the planet’s mass had been altered too much and it would change the trajectory around the suns but they didn’t have to worry, the gods themselves came together to ensure that what could only be called a planet would follow the same path as it always had done. Unbeknownst to the general populace, the gods had actually visited numerous times over the centuries to effect the changes in the path of the planet. The final visit was a reminder to the peoples of the system that they were still watching. Q’ran Chele became legend.

CHAPTER 1

Blood sprayed from the opened artery, a small quantity splashing onto Kalos’ lips leaving a metallic, not altogether unpleasant taste behind after his tongue automatically darted out to remove it.

He clamped one hand over the open wound in the man’s neck which was quickly losing its virility and the other over the struggling guard’s mouth. His legs wrapped around the struggling torso at the same time and before long all movement had ceased.

Kalos wrenched the limp head to one side, snapping the neck before lowering the body quietly to the floor and wiping his face with the back of his hand in an attempt to remove the blood that was already becoming sticky. He pulled out his silenced pistol, aimed towards the door and waited.

A tense minute passed as he postponed moving on, listening for any indication of his discovery, but nothing was forthcoming. He quietly pulled the body behind the desk and turned off the single fluorescent light in the room before opening the only exit to look up and down the almost painfully stark corridors. A ceiling mounted turret rotated slowly, ignoring him completely, nothing else was in sight.

Closing the door once more he looked up to the security camera that swept the room, winked at it with a tight grin on his face then took one last look around to ensure that nothing untoward was easily visible from the door way. The body was hidden from the entrance and the pool of blood on the floor would be virtually invisible in the dark. Although it would seem initially odd for there not to be a guard at the post it would be very likely in Kalos’ experience that even if anyone noticed, no one would pay any large amount of attention to the oddity.

He closed and locked the door as he passed through, feeling satisfied that nothing would be easily visible then moved down the corridor towards the control room, the layout of the building overlapping his vision from his eyemapping device showing him all possible routes for his final goal. Typically he would not have used the device, but there had been no time to memorize the building layout going against his usual rules. The gadget was cumbersome, leaving an uncomfortable weight in his eye that on the one hand was very minor, but on the other hand left him feeling just slightly off balance and also partially detracted from his vision. According to it though, there was only one other route from the one he was already taking to get to his final target and it would only be used in a last resort situation as it passed directly through the buildings only kitchen and one of the many large barracks on site.

The route he was presently taking would typically be impassable due to the numerous guards, electronically locked doors, motion sensors, turrets and a plethora of additional security devices that were designed to be operated at the sentry stations positioned after the supposedly impregnable doors including cameras every dozen meters that recognized faces and set off warnings if the face was not in the system.

Fortunately for him though, Aleth was in the server room wiping his image from every electronic scanner before the guards in all the sentry stations could see anything on their monitors and any guards that he came upon, he could take care of quickly and quietly. She unlocked any electronically sealed doors remotely and Kalos was able to pick the few that were mundane. The route was clearer than either of them had expected which understandably made them both nervous and they were constantly on the search for anything else that was out of the ordinary.

He checked his map; there were two more rooms to clear before his objective could be completed. He sidled up to the next door in his path, checked the lock then slowly turned the handle, pushing it open silently. His dark eyes peered through the crack of the door, to see the fourth and last sentry room. Three guards, all heavily armed occupied the space with one simple desk, behind which sat one of the three facing the door. A two way terminal glowed dully between Kalos and the guards face, obscuring the man’s vision while the three of them leant in, reading something captivating upon it.

Kalos took a deep breath, removed a throwing knife from the bandolier across his chest, settled it comfortably in his left throwing hand and retrieved a longer needle point blade for his other. He slowly released his breath and pushed the door inward on silent hinges throwing the knife unerringly before the entry was even a third open.

The knife sank deep into the sitting guards left eye whipping his head back and smashing his head against the wall behind him, leaving a bloody mark where his skull cracked before he collapsed off the chair.

Following the thrown blade closely, Kalos ran between the remaining guards, his right hand darting out to sink the point of his needle blade into the throat of one guard while throwing all of his weight with his left hand against the second guards head, pitching him forward and down where he impacted face first on the plain metal desk shattering his nose and disrupting the terminal screen. The needle blade had stuck in the neck armor of the second guard but had passed through enough defense to sever any chance of survival and Kalos abandoned it to finish off the last guard.

The man was starting to raise up on his hands when Kalos jumped on his back forcing the air from his lungs, then roughly grabbed his chin and swiftly pulled back with his knees just behind his neck. The sound of popping vertebrae echoed around him and then there was silence once again, broken by the sound of Kalos breathing barely harder than before.

Getting up he looked around for any other potential danger, but seeing none he walked calmly back out into the hallway he had come through not thirty seconds earlier and looked either way. There was still not a soul in sight so he closed, locked it and moved on to the only other exit from the room. This time the bodies would have to stay where they lay, there was nowhere to hide them easily and time was starting to run short.

He heard the electronic lock disengage and smiled to himself, Aleth as always was on point. He opened the door slightly and peeking through he found himself looking into his objective: the control room. It was a large room full of bank upon bank of electronic equipment with a half dozen terminals set up at regular intervals. The sound of cooling fans, motors and electrical equipment washed over him in a pleasant hum. He could not see everything in the room and realized that there was no way that they would be able to hear anyone that could be hiding behind any of the equipment.

Deciding quickly on his best course of action he retrieved his throwing knife and worked out his needle blade then wiped them both off on his leggings and returned them to their places.

Once again, as he passed through to the next room he turned off the light to lessen the odds of being detected. The control room was quiet except for his padding footsteps and the sub-aural drone that was felt more than heard of machinery and electronics. He slowed as he got further into the large room and noted that there wasn’t even a single worker in the room. An area like this would always be manned it was too important to leave even for a few minutes. It controlled everything in the building, minus the security features. A person could hold themselves in here and wipe out half of the barracks with a few strokes of some keys if they knew what they were doing, unfortunately it was an area he was not proficient within.

He walked cautiously over to what he knew would be the control for the turrets as they were exactly where Aleth had told him they would be, every sense on edge, just waiting for something to happen. Controls and keys stuck out profusely all over the panels, the uses of which were beyond his knowledge but he did know the code to turn it all off and that was all he cared about. Before pressing anything he cursed slightly, it would have been so much simpler to activate the turrets and remove all safeguards, killing everyone within the complex. The damnable things were everywhere and most people would be dead before anything happened, but it was not what command wanted, there were too many local civilians here.

Having paused for too long already, the eyemapping device flared the time so he would not miss it. He keyed in the override command to turn all the internal defences off, the external being controlled elsewhere and instantly klaxons started wailing all around the complex, warning of the impending defencelessness of the station. Kalos finished entering the second code, telling the system to go ahead with the shutdown and as he did so, soldiers started pouring in from the other two entrances to the room.

Kalos stepped quickly behind one of the stands, tossed two grenades towards both of the two entrances and pulled out a pair of short blade swords from their sheaths hidden within his back armour. The grenades released their smoke to the surprise of the soldiers and Kalos grinned as he dropped his heat sensing goggles over his eyes while moving off into the pother, thinking, it looks like I will get some fun on this mission after all.

CHAPTER 2

As soon as the warning bells from the complex erupted through the chill evening air, audible even in the confines of the ground vessel, the engine turned over and was thrust awkwardly into gear, belying the tension of the situation. The craft rocketed forward, breaking through the undergrowth that had barely hidden them for the past few hours and joined three other armoured personnel carriers on the road barrelling towards the castle-like monstrosity before them.

The craft in the lead released one massive blast of ion fuelled hell into the entrance barricade while each of the others took a single shot at separate points along the ramparts shredding stone, steel and skin as three of the five guard towers were destroyed. There would be no time for them to take out the other two guard towers on the entrance run.

As the four craft crashed into the courtyard of the castle, over the crumbling ruin of what was left of the barricade, two rockets appeared from the thick foliage propelled unerringly towards each of the last two guard towers. The infiltrator grenades punched through the outer walls with a tiny initial explosion then the secondary charge imploded within, pulling the walls in on themselves, crushing the unfortunate few still within before they could even scream.

As soon as the vehicles screeched to a halt in the massive stone courtyard, the inner compartments flew open. Mounted on the inside of the APC doors were laser rifles that almost instantly targeted the inner fixed turrets and tore them to shreds before the defense systems could aim at the smaller, yet far more lethal threat. The weapons efficiently silenced the last turret and the all clear was given within the APC’s which spat out the platoons from their protective surroundings.

Each platoon had their specific objectives and knew exactly what to do, so the lieutenants leading each group did not waste a word as they exited their respective vehicles and headed towards the four known entrances to the main hold.

A new wave of gun fire started breaking out in a staccato of sound around the compound, the initial shock having worn off and the defenders of the keep opened fire with everything at their disposal. Both laser and projectile weaponry rained down over the carriers but the soldiers were already gone and breaching their respective access pointy swiftly, surprisingly losing no one in the process.

As soon as the platoons were safely ensconced within the compound and out of immediate line of fire, the personnel carriers turned and exited as fast as they had entered, the eight massive metal studded tires tearing grooves out of the road and retreating to a safe distance to ambush any possible reinforcements then to return when the mission was complete.

The night returned quickly to something resembling silence, only the sounds of rubble crumbling and flames eating away at the little fuel it could find amidst the carnage mixed with a few shouts as the defenders rushed into the buildings.

Duncan’s platoon had been trained almost solely by him over the past few years, he knew every one of them, their stories, their lives, their friends and their loves. Not one of them would hesitate to throw down their lives for him and he wouldn’t hesitate to do the same for any one of them.

He had been the first through the door, his large frame silhouetted against the doorway for a split second until he dove to one side in the entry foyer, ready to lay down any covering fire if needed. The others poured through the open door taking similar positions. A movement flickered in the corner of his eye and he swung his semi-automatic pistol towards the motion and depressed the firing mechanism, feeling the weapon buck. The three shots he released flew true and buried in the chest and neck of a guard who had been about to fire, throwing him back through the entrance he had barely passed through. No one else appeared and the last person ran through the door and slammed the massive metal portal shut behind him. The group mage cast a hex over the entrance portal quickly as another injected a compound in the locking mechanism to melt it from within, leaving access virtually impossible without explosives but also blocking their exit from that point. This was not a mission that they could afford to fail.

He checked his platoon: they were arrayed throughout the foyer, the three exits all covered. He knew the path he was to take and immediately took off through the central exit into a long hallway, his detachment following quickly on his heels.

Each of them were dressed in the same dark clothing, hiding simple dragon armour beneath, enough to protect from small arms fire but little else. He knew that the attack had to go off flawlessly, not a single one of them had the gear to deal with a well-equipped enemy. It had been a decision for speed and surprise and he prayed to Krist, the soldier’s god of fortune that the decision would end being a good one.

There were numerous doors on either side of the hallway leading to a variety of rooms and each and every one they passed was quickly rigged with hexes and had their locks destroyed. These inner doors would be relatively easy to break down from either side, but the first few people coming out would find themselves literally burning from the inside as the spell took a hold of them. The hexes were not strong enough to kill more than one person, but hopefully if anyone did decide to come through it would give the rest a reason to stop and wait until their own mage or sorcerer to come and ensure safety.

A door just ahead of him slammed open allowing three heavily armed guards to lurch into the hallway spraying bullets in Duncan’s direction as he and his soldiers dove behind the meager cover that the hallway sported. Duncan heard a grunt beside him as he dropped down and to one side but did not spare the second to look at who was hit and how badly. He returned fire with a few others of his squad. Their aim was impeccable and within seconds of appearing through the door the three guards had been dropped.

Duncan got up and move carefully over to where the three lay, bleeding out and feebly reaching for whatever they deemed to be the most important things left in their lives. In the case of two, he noted, they were grasping for the charms of various gods. Duncan removed the charms from around their necks and pressed the symbols into their palms then watched while the light faded from their eyes. He looked over at the third man and without a word he pulled out his hand gun and shot him between the eyes. The man had been trying to pull out his own hand gun in an attempted final act of vengeance.

‘Hex and lock,’ Duncan commanded his squad emotionlessly as he stood up and moved on, the three already forgotten.

The platoon mage and two others ran up to the open door. As he moved past he looked at the person who was hit who was now striding beside him once more. It has been a chest hit from the small arms fire spent against them; the armour had soaked up all the damage though it probably would leave a nice bruise. The private smiled at him, took a deep breath, got back into place in formation and as a group they moved on.

An explosion came from behind as one of his men tossed a fragmentation grenade through the open door after which he slammed the door shut and they moved past. Even as the explosion went off within, the mage placed a hex on that door also muttering that it never hurt to be cautious.

They moved rapidly on, everyone’s mind on the task at hand, knowing that once they got to the armoury their portion of the assault would be complete and they would have to hold it against the few that may make it their way and wait for the all clear. It was simple when thought about, but impossible to tell who or what they would find on the way there as their information was neither complete nor current. At best they only had a rough estimate on the strength of defense.

There was another platoon clearing out the floor around them, so resistance should be minimal and as for the other platoons, only Duncan had any clue of what they were doing and where, it was also the last thing on his mind. Hundreds of lives would be lost this morning all for the ongoing political war between the Q’ran Empire and anyone that would stand up to them. Had they simply left his home planet alone though, Duncan knew that he would likely have gone to join the fight elsewhere. Killing was the only thing he had ever found that he was genuinely good at.

They passed one room after another, some behind which fighting could be heard, most without and Duncan kept constant track of their progress It would not be long before they arrived at the entrance to the armoury, the layout of which was burned into all of their minds. If there was any variation they were on their own, their spies were the only ones to receive eyemapping devices. Too expensive to be given to all; was what they had been told. Duncan snorted as he checked around a corner in the corridor, politics in war was never a good combination. He reviewed the rest of their route before moving around the corner. Just two more turns in the corridor then they would find themselves in a small amphitheatre which had two exits and a balcony surrounding the upper layer, then finally into the entrance hallway of the armoury, past seventy feet of turrets, now thankfully off and a small complement of sentries at the other end, likely spraying bullets down the hallway, although they had planned for this eventuality also. It was all Duncan could do to pray to Hallow to take his soul were they were to fail. He also prayed quickly to Krist that they didn’t have a mage of their own down that hallway, as that was something that they hadn’t been able to prepare for.

As a group they entered the theatre and spread out quickly to cover the exits while simultaneously securing the room from any possible enemies. All clears were heard from both areas as Duncan strode in behind them and without an enemy in sight, he took a step past the entrance towards the exit leading to the armoury when he heard what sounded like faint chanting.

‘Ambush!’ Yelled their mage and instantly the platoon dove for cover behind whatever was available while looking feverishly for the source of the ambush but seeing nothing. Suddenly a tear appeared in the centre of the room as talons tore the fabric of space attempting to break through. Duncan immediately turned his gun to the demon entering their realm and opened fire, followed immediately by his twenty men, knowing that unless their mage did something quickly, they would be in serious trouble. He could barely believe the hideousness of the creature, four triple jointed limbs on what could only be called its upper torso although its head was also on the end of what looked like a thick vine while its lower body had short stocky legs with vicious long claws that rent the air as it struggled through.

Then the real ambush began. The upper balcony erupted with dozens of heavily armed soldiers raising up and raining bullets down into his men. No man or woman, not matter how well trained could withstand such a situation and Duncan saw a few diving through the two exits into what they believed to be safety, only to be pushed back seconds later in a hail of bullet, scattering limbs and flesh as easily would a petal vendor before the path of a lord. Within half a minute, a third of his squad was dead.

‘Pull bank!’ Duncan bellowed over the tumult although he knew it was too late. He felt a round pierce his crotch, shattering his pelvis as he turned back to their only chance of escape, then another tore the vision from one eye, taking half of the bone of his eye socket in its passage. Falling back he attempted to raise his arm to at least place a few shots at his murderers, fighting through the agony screaming through him but another bullet tore into his arm, forcing him to drop his weapon from nerveless fingers. His head struck the floor, but before he could even attempt to move again, he felt a hand grab the collar of his shirt and start pulling him towards the closest exit. All around him his platoon was being slaughtered and there was nothing he could do.

The hand pulling him went slack all of a sudden and a body fell across his, blood splashed into his remaining eye, leaving the world in a red clotted haze. The mage’s face had fallen close to his. Her hair lay across her face in bloody clumps and her eyes were wide open, mouth working fitfully, attempting to communicate something, but he could hear nothing over the gunfire and screams. The demon flashed past him, jaws and talons dripping gore, hunting another one of his squad, then he felt the world go numb and the darkness swallowed him.

CHAPTER 3

Taloth looked out through the viewport of his small cargo ship at Q’ran Sole and wondered, not for the first time, why in Hallow’s name they hadn’t just given up and moved on instead of building the bubble Cities. From everything he had ever learned they had had the technology even back then.

He was a middle aged man with a slight paunch that he felt more than a little embarrassed about but didn’t ever seem to be able to find the time to exercise it away. He had a handsome cast to his face, leaning more towards boyish good looks even as the years progressed, enhanced by his always cleanly shaven face. With light blue eyes that had been used to their full effect to the detriment of many a fair lady, he had become well known in his current line of work as trustworthy, if a little one sided in his dealings.

‘Sir, we are being hailed.’

Taloth turned slowly, a light hangover casting a pall over his features and looked at his second in command. Also middle aged although a few years younger than him, strong in body and spirit, an exotically beautiful woman with long black hair pulled into a loose ponytail draping far down her back with her face sporting slight laugh lines that she was forever trying the latest cream or unguent to remove even though they gave her a relaxed and happy air about her. She was a woman whom he trusted more than any person alive for many good reasons. Adri knew how to react in any given situation, she was competent with everything that their shady line of work required and she was also the best pilot that Taloth had ever met. There was rarely a day that passed that he didn’t wonder at the reasons that kept her with him but the past of the entire crew was not common knowledge to any of the other members aboard. No one knew everything though Taloth suspected that he had been told the most from each of them. He had to admit to himself that what he had been told was likely just a pittance of what the truth actually was.

‘Sir?’ her mildly mannish voice cut through his thoughtful meanderings. His eyes stayed upon her as he drank in her features until it dawned on him that her voice had projected a fair amount of irritation.

‘Sorry, yes, alright’, he responded, deep voice grumbling sullenly and pushed the heels of his palms into his eye sockets until stars appeared, trying to push away both the semi-sleep state he was in as well as the embarrassment he felt. ‘Give them our ID, the cargo hauler one. Then give them the info on our legal cargo.’

‘Yes sir.’ Came the response with a smile. They had played through this scenario many times. The ID would have them show up as a mercantile goods cargo freighter coming from an outer planet. Their smuggled goods would be hidden well, but this was where they changed very slightly from their normal shady business. They would attest that they were attacked by a pirate ship and struck them with a lucky hit, directly to the ships engine bay, the only survivor would be their unwilling passenger whom they decided to bring here as it was well known that this was the safest place this side of Q’ran Chele, although the stories changed depending on his mood.

Adri was still amazed by the fact that he actually spoke such blatant lies with a straight face, in fact the place that they were going to was well known for quite the opposite, being somewhat of a den of thieves, smugglers and hired killers of the low quality sort. After this they would find out that there was a bounty on the man’s head, which they would get paid the full amount for and would not have to pay the bounty hunters guild a cut. This venture was not typical for them but not that uncommon either. The bounty hunters guild would typically want their cut, but this method had worked out for them in the past and as such they would not have to pay it as they would allegedly not have done it before. The guild had released many stories over the years of what happened to those not willing to pay their yearly fees and the cuts from their captures. Legalized theft, their quartermaster Crow, had said once, none of them could disagree.

All that docking authorities would have to do was look at their ship to see that this was a bald faced lie, being outfitted with much more firepower than a cargo freighter had any right to be, but they never did. They didn’t care here, just like they didn’t care in any other low paying dock throughout the system.

Adri received the green light to land and set her course to the docking port on the side of the massive tubular space station. He caught himself watching her again and turned away for a second before letting his eyes dragged him back again. I can’t help it, he justified to himself, the way she handles this ship is damn sexy, it’s more her fault then mine.

Taloth headed to the cargo bay, deciding not to revisit that particular argument with himself. A single day barely passed that he didn’t re-examine his thoughts about her. Adri finished up the connection to the port, powered down the engines and cycled the air lock to let the port security on board.

He reached the bay just as the lock finished opening.

‘Good day sir, I assume that there is nothing to declare?’ the first of three guards said as if reading a script that had been the same since the dawn of time while looking perfunctorily around the cargo bay, obviously just waiting for some kind of incentive to stop him finding something that wouldn’t really be allowed on the station. The other two stood at the entrance, uniforms stretched over bulging muscles and hands resting on weapons. They were both just a few seconds away from sleep but the sheer size of them warned against thoughts of misbehaving.

Not hired for their intelligence. Taloth thought to himself and handed over a cred stick to the leader with what was considered to be a decent bribe.

The head of the motley crew took the stick with a grunt and left the ship in short order, his goons following closely, all likely to head to the closest pub to enjoy their hard earned credits until the next illegal craft came to dock.

Harrow help us, they aren’t even trying any more, Taloth thought as he pressed the intercom and informed everyone that it was time to head out. He could imagine Crow lovingly putting away his weapons where he had been hiding somewhere close by, wary as ever of an unexpected attack. He always seemed to look forward to it and was often disappointed when nothing actually happened.

Crow appeared at the airlock a short while later with the prisoner in tow. His shaved head glistened wetly as if he had just finished shaving it again. He claimed that it gave the opponent less to grab onto and he had very little interest in others opinions of his appearance. His face was scarred in two locations, once across his jaw line on the right side and down across his neck just before the chin and the other from where his hair line would be, close to the centre down to the tip of his nose. When Taloth had met the man, he had already acquired those scars and when he had been asked about them, Crow had sidled around the issue and changed the subject. He was not an attractive man, something that the scars just enhanced and something of a sadist as far as Taloth could tell, but the man had saved all of them more than a few times in the past and his skill alone had gotten them out of many a sticky situation.

He had been having some fun with the unlucky man, as the prisoner could barely walk and had many cuts and bruises visible around his collar and wrist restraints, whether it was from the actual capture or Crow having some fun though, Taloth was unable to tell.

A captain, a sadist and a Trealian walk into a bar… Taloth shook his head. It was like a bad joke waiting to be told, and that was ignoring his other crew members. Without saying a word, Taloth took up the leash and headed out through the airlock into the bustling spaceport of Q’ran Sole.

There was no true separation between the different districts; the hotels, mercantile, concubine and drug filled slums and the recreational quarters all melded in this spaceport and had done so since its inception. It was always easy to tell who in the crowd were natives to the station as well as the planet far below, as their bodies were more elongated and frail looking, although many a person had made the mistake of mistaking that for weakness and received a thorough thrashing. The lower gravity of the planet had been duplicated on the station to keep the natives happy, although many visitors complained about the lower than system typical gravity.

The smell that assaulted them as they walked the streets reminded him of a solid waste treatment plant and Taloth decided that it wouldn’t surprise him if that was what they were actually smelling. No one else seemed to notice, they had probably been living with it for too long, but to the two of them, the stench was an almost physical blow after being on sterile ships for over a month.

As soon as their presence had been noted, the vendors of practically every ware possible of which Taloth had no interest in purchasing, whether it be flagrantly illegal stimulants of every known variety, alcoholic beverages of the debilitating sort or whores of every shape, colour, sexual preference as well as mechanical and artificial intelligence varieties all bundled up in an easy to choose from portable terminal.

Towing the prisoner as quickly as possible away from the peddlers, Taloth searched for any kind of sign of where he could remove this thorn in his side. Truth be told, the prisoner was a rival in a business where it did not do to have any competition at all. Autonomy was impossible in the smuggling business, but the lesser quantity of contention the better. Taloth just happened to be quicker and more devious than most of his rivals.

They had happened upon each other while heading to a well-known customer who had sent out a call for assistance of the smuggling kind. They had ended up having a quick and unpleasant exchange of words which led to a quick and unpleasant exchange of weapon fire, leaving his opponents vessel temporarily disabled. In exchange for their lives, his crew had virtually gift wrapped him and let Taloth take him for the bounty on his head.

He knew his prisoner would be back out and smuggling eventually, it was just a question of how long until bribery could free him from whatever prison he ended up in, then the man would have to find another craft to start smuggling again. His previous crew would be unlikely to help him out of the goodness of their hearts. By the look of this place this would not be the reprieve that he was hoping for though. It was an unpleasant station in the armpit of the system that was typically very good at receiving bribes.

Thirty minutes of aimless meandering later there was still no sign of the bounty station. They had passed storefronts of all types, selling basically the same things as the hawkers, just of a higher grade. He stopped in front of one store selling ship parts. He knew that Dolan, his ship mechanic would find the place shortly and when he returned to the ship, she would present him with a list of necessary upgrades, the same as she did every time that they docked anywhere with anything resembling half decent merchants. Taloth shook his head at the thought and spotted a medic station. He was not a good person and he knew this all too well, but if there was one thing that he was not, it was a barbarian.

The medic said nothing as he looked over Taloth’s charge although his eyes spoke volumes as to what he thought about a man on a leash coming in with wounds on his body. He gave the prisoner a few shots to speed up his metabolism and to cause temporary amnesia then called in the priest whom Taloth had to admit, looked rather drunk.

Shenath’s priests were not uncommon in the seedier areas of the system, drop outs from the ecclesiastical universities could find work very easily in such way-stations as this, healing wounds for the lesser powerful and for the greater priests manipulation of the body for cosmetic reasons could bring an excellent fee even though this line of work was condemned by the church proper.

As soon as he started praying, the air became hot as his favoured magical plane opened around them. Although invisible to all but the priest, the plane could be sensed by everyone else in the room, including the hop heads who were in for a quick fix. It was well known to stay still in the presence of spell casting. Magical accidents were unlikely but not enough of an uncommon occurrence to take the situation anything but seriously. People had been known to lose appendages or in rumoured situations, even bring something through from the other side that was usually best to leave where it had been.

Sweat instantly broke out on the priest’s face which was never a good sign. It took a little extra will to stay as close to him as Taloth already was. The prisoner shot them both a worried look but all that Taloth could reply with was a shrug. The captive’s body suddenly tightened, muscles tensing to their fullest capabilities as the magic the gripped him, coursing through his body and finding any anomalies. Recollection came a little late to Taloth as he realized that he had forgotten to ask his prisoner whether or not he had any biological or cybernetic augmentation although it was unlikely as both lines of technology had been all but ignored for the past few hundred years as external enhancements were legal, surprisingly small and less painful in every way. Bodies rarely properly healed from the older style additions and changes and records showed that rejection was almost a guarantee, no matter what kind of therapy the subject had been given. There had been talks in the past few decades of a resurgence in the research using newer immunosuppressant drugs although nothing was as yet confirmed. Taloth had the feeling that it was all rumour and no fact.

The priest finished his casting with barely concealed disgust, probably thinks the same thing as that medic; that it was me who caused all that damage… some kind of sex thing. I mean I am dragging the man around on a leash. Taloth felt his face blush a deep red while his prisoner slumped slightly at the release of the power that had been holding him. The pain in his face was temporary as the drugs rewrote his memories, informing him that the last few minutes simply hadn’t occurred.

Coercing the body to heal at an excessive rate was painful in the extreme as nerves that had been severed flared back into life at an incredible rate, not leaving that mild tingle and itch that regular healing supplied.

Taloth paid the medic who soon moved on to the next customer; a young boy with his arm in a sling accompanied by a very angry mother chastising the boy continuously. Back on their way once more, the prisoner muttered a thanks. His memory may have been wiped but it was not hard for him to put the pieces together.

Taloth didn’t mind leaving the man in prison to bribe his way out over a period of weeks but putting him in there while injured as badly as he had been would likely have been a death sentence. The penitentiaries in this leg of the system were not well known for their cleanliness, nor their protection of inmates. Injured he would have ended up a target unable to defend himself. On the other hand from small initial cost, Taloth`s name could substantially raise in estimation if he was showed compassion and if he became the only person in the vicinity who would be willing to do certain, less than savory jobs it certainly wouldn’t hurt business.

After another few minutes of searching and pushing their way past a fresh wave of hawkers, the bounty office finally came into sight. It was a ragged looking place, the lights of the sign were almost all burned out and the entire façade of the building was covered in a sheen of dirt and waste. He looked around as he got closer and realized with disgust that every building in the area looked the same. He wondered, had he been paying more attention whether it had been the same all along or whether he had simply found himself attracted to the worst part of the station.

Taloth bulled his way in through the front door past a few low grade thugs who were paid to look big and intimidating but probably wouldn`t put up the fight they were paid for even if one did occur.

‘And who‘ve you brung us then?’ Asked a man dressed in what could only in the loosest of terms be called a uniform. He was dirty and greasy and looked somewhat like the front of his store; squat and unpleasant. He spoke from behind what passed for a desk as he leered at the prisoner in chains. Unfortunately Taloth had to play the game well if he expected the full payment, but he had complete confidence in himself, he had done this enough times before.

‘This brigand decided that trying to steal my cargo was a good idea a few cycles ago.’ He said, his voice taking on the airs of a typically uptight and inconvenienced merchant. ‘We got in a lucky shot and disabled his ship. His crew had already escaped in pods and I was most certainly not going to spend my hard earned fuel on rescuing the outlaws,’ well we gave them what was left of the ship and told them to piss off and not be seen anywhere close to us again. ‘This one was left unconscious on the bridge when we went across to… ahem… rescue anyone possible. I assumed a man like this would have a bounty of some sort. His kind always does.’ He wiped imaginary dirt from his hands in a subconscious move that such a character would do.

The prisoner rolled his eyes at the story while the bounty desk clerk raised a disbelieving eyebrow. The man obviously didn’t believe everything that Taloth had said, but he guessed that the official did believe enough to take the story at face value.

The clerk sat back after retrieving half of a cold greasy burger and after taking too large of a bite, dripping some of it down his uniform to join with the myriad of others, he took a certifier from the shelf behind him and unceremoniously tossed it onto the desk in front of him. Taloth took it, forcefully restraining himself not to shudder at the greasy touch of the metal and plastic machine and placed it over his prisoner’s eyes. It buzzed once and clicked, signalling completion of the verification of who the prisoner was. The clerk retrieved it, looked at his handheld and whistled once, his eyebrows raising.

‘Ok, he registered.’ He signalled one of his guards to take the prisoner away. The man took the leash from Taloth and virtually dragged his prisoner away who shot Taloth a glance telling him that he would be back and he would not be happy. The clerk pressed a button to buzz them through a door behind him to what Taloth guessed was likely a holding area.

‘So what are you still here for?’ the clerk asked stuffing the rest of the burger into his mouth, dripping even more grease onto his ruined uniform.

Taloth closed his eyes for second, forcing back any unpleasantness that was bubbling its way to the tip of his tongue.

‘I believe there was mention of a bounty for this man.’

‘Yes. I believe you mentioned it.’ Came the unpleasant reply. He didn’t even bother looking up from his terminal at the captain.

Taloth waited for a few moments before speaking again. Keeping his calm was difficult but he had always been quick to anger, he let a breath out slowly in a technique taught to him by a friend a long time ago and then relaxed his muscles and spoke again.

‘And do you think that I could get said bounty, sir?’

The clerk snorted and stopped what he was doing, looked up at Taloth with an appraising look then sighed dramatically and keyed in some information to his terminal while gruffly asking for Taloth’s credit stick. Taloth handed it over, it was a spare he kept with him at all times in case a deal went sour and whoever he was dealing with decided to keep the money as well. He watched the clerk swipe it over his terminal, transferring the funds, then he handed it back. Taloth looked at the small readout on the credit stick with a surprise that he didn’t let show, apparently his prisoner had been worth more than he realized and he couldn’t help but wonder what the bounty on his own head was these days, but without another word he tucked the stick away and headed out, smiling amiably at the one guard left by the entrance.

It was a good day he decided, now if he could find some more work it would turn out to be an excellent day. He turned back towards the ship and the hawkers and strolled happily on, deciding on a whim to stop by one of the more reputable appearing bars in the area. This task was harder than he thought, finding one disgusting bar after another filled with drunken brawling idiots. At an earlier time in his life he would have loved to enter such a place and spent his evening drinking their swill and fighting, but age had caught up to him and at least a modicum of maturity had enveloped his mind to the point where he wondered why he had ever done such a thing to begin with. Before long he gave up on the search, his good mood somewhat dulled by not being able to find a good drinking hole and decided that getting off the station after restocking supplies would in fact be preferable to looking around any longer.

If he got lucky he would be able to pick up a simple contract before heading out of the system through smuggling channels. Not that I am ever lucky, he thought to himself, cursing Harrow silently. Why the gods and their forged servants world had to butt their heads into the lives of the little people he would never know.

Forged servants had once been men and women of the collective planets, but something about them had made them into targets for the gods. They had gone about their lives, sometimes simple farmers, other times heroic war time figures, but for each of them, a god had appeared and offered them something. What had been offered was never known but every one of these people had accepted the offer and disappeared with their gods. They came back from time to time in history, changed somewhat but still the same person that had left. No one knew what happened to them or where they went, all that was known for sure was that when a forged servant was seen, something momentous was about to occur. The tides of wars had changed at the entrance of a forged servant, people’s lives had changed dramatically when one had appeared to them and told them something, although what was never found out, not a single person had ever spoken of what had been told to them. Whether on a global or personal scale, forged servants were the harbingers of change.

My ego knows no bounds sometimes… Taloth thought as he realized that even the idea of a god paying