Star Runners: Revelation Protocol

Chapter 6

6

Sunlight warmed his face. He listened as the surf rustled against the sand only to retreat back into the depths. Another wave, larger this time, crashed into the beach and sent hundreds of little rivers into small canyons between the towels. The cold water tickled his shriveled toes. A child laughed, running from the waves before being scooped up by his mommy. Warmth enveloped him like a blanket fresh out of the dryer, as if he had found the eternal source of joy and would be able to keep it for himself. His thoughts drifted.

Someone was with him. To his right. They were close, projecting security. They radiated, pulsating toward him.

He couldn't turn. His hands wouldn't move. He reached out with his fingers, but felt nothing. Out of the corner of his eye, the person moved. It was a woman with dark hair. The wind tussled the curls, sending them onto her bare shoulders.

"You have to wake up."

Kadyn's voice.

“How did we get here?” he whispered. “Where are we?"

"It doesn't matter, sweet one. You must wake up now."

"Kadyn!"

The beach pulled away, ripped from his mind. He reached for it, but only touched air.

"Josh." A different voice. "Wake up."

He pried open his eyes. The rocky cave ceiling spread out above him. A nauseating feeling invaded his gut at the smell of human waste. Cool air drifted into the area. A man coughed nearby. To his right, a familiar face, cracked and weathered, stared down at him.

"Delmar," Josh breathed, his throat dry. "I was dreaming."

"I know. About Kadyn, no doubt."

He leaned forward, sipping water from a pouch. "Yes."

"Who is Kadyn?"

He took another drink, longer this time. The image from his dream, while fiction, burned into his mind. It should have been a true memory, something from his past, but it wasn’t. As he had countless times since Rodon and his men captured him to rot on this asteroid, he wished he had told Kadyn the truth.

"A friend," he said, wiping his mouth.

"Must be some friend with a dream like that.” Delmar smiled. “Is she beautiful?"

He thought of her chocolate curls, her dark eyes. "Yes."

"Hmm."

He laughed. "Easy. She's my friend." He studied Delmar’s dark, creased skin, trying to imagine the man’s life as a smuggler before the Tyral Pirates took him. "How long have you been with these pirates?"

Delmar gazed away, his face expressionless. "Too long."

Josh started to press; he wanted to know more about his companion, but the questions died on his lips. The Tyral Pirates had moved them to this cave yesterday, the third in as many days. They had unloaded six freighters in that time, stripped eight total Legion vessels including two Tridents, and seen dozens of prisoners released into the vacuum of space. Every day he woke in this place, he believed this would be the day he, too, would receive what Rodon called “leave” and be released into space. Some of the workforce disappeared with the released prisoners, declared unfit for more labor. The guards shot others for refusing to work or simply looking in the wrong direction.

Josh had taken his blows, too. The second day, a guard smacked him across the side of the head with the butt of a rifle. He hadn't seen it coming. Apparently, the guard simply walked by and hit him, or at least that's the story Josh was told much later when he woke in another cave. Delmar had saved him, offering to carry him from the site after work detail. The tender lump growing above his ear reminded him of the guard’s action, and of Delmar’s kindness.

When they weren't stripping spacecraft or escorting prisoners to their deaths, the pirates dropped them in caverns deep into the asteroid to mine for minerals and precious metals. The work days stretched so long he wondered if he had ended up in hell itself. Delmar, his worn hands covered in callouses hard as the rocks they carried, was always there to offer assistance. Josh would be dead by now if not for Delmar. He would tell his friend as much, if it seemed like such things mattered to him. No, Josh thought, Delmar worked as if he would punch a clock at the end of the day. It was like he had a magical cloak to shield him from the horrors of this place.

"How do you do it?" he asked.

Delmar blinked, a quizzical look on his face. "How do you mean?"

"Day in and day out. You keep trying, keep moving ahead and concentrating on the task at hand. How?"

His friend's face warmed. "It is easy. I know we will be delivered. Some day. You will see."

Josh snorted. "I don't even know where we are. Even if I could—"

Suddenly aware he spoke loudly, he glanced over his shoulder at the cave entrance. Leaning forward and lowering his voice, he continued, "Even if I could get to a ship, I don't even know where we are."

Delmar grinned. "We are in the Amade Cluster, Quadrant Eight. This is the secondary base of the pirates, although I do not know the name of this specific planetary body."

Josh blinked, confused by the knowledge of this man. "How do you know that?"

A horn sounded and footsteps stormed down the hall. The other prisoners rustled. When the guards came every other day, it meant more work, food, or new additions to the workforce. Since Josh couldn't stomach the thought of eating more soupy snot, he hoped for more workers, but felt a tinge of guilt for wishing such a thing on any newcomers.

The gate opened and one Tyral Pirate stood at the entrance, his muscular arms crossed over his leather armored chest. "Get in there!"

The guard forced six new spacers inside the room and closed the gate. The men, dressed in an assortment of ragged flight suits, collapsed in an undignified heap of flesh in the center of the cell. Their tattered clothes clung to their bodies by threads. Fresh cuts and bruises covered their faces and bodies. These men had been in a fight.

Although their flight suits were torn and ripped, the similarities in the newcomers’ attire seemed as if they belonged together. However, Josh knew they were not Legion types. He looked closer, saw no insignias or ranks. Still, the men seemed to be more than just a random selection of six spacers. They glanced around the cave, and their skin glistened with sweat. They cowered, except for one man in the center.

Josh studied him. With his bulky broad shoulders, the bold newcomer glared with ice-blue eyes at each prisoner in the cell. A thick, bushy red beard grew out like a fire frozen in time. He locked eyes with Josh, held the stare for a heartbeat, and moved on as if he silently challenged each man to make a move.

None did.

The man saw to the other newcomers, kneeling to provide a kind word or offer a pouch of water. After the ferocity in his face a moment before, the leader showed compassion toward his men. He checked their wounds, touched their shoulders as he spoke.

"Who are they?" Josh whispered.

"Barracudas, probably," Delmar said with a shrug, "but if they are, they've been the property of our hosts for quite some time."

"Barracudas?"

"A smuggling group. They operate throughout Quadrant Eight. Have done so for years. They work on Legion planets and anywhere else they can operate."

He frowned. “So they’re like the Tyral Pirates?”

“Not exactly.” Delmar leaned against the rock wall. “These Barracudas operate in materials and objects, never in the slave trade. And they do it well.”

He rested on his elbows. "Interesting."

Three hours into the second day of pounding rocks, Josh’s shoulders burned. He wiped his brow with his tattered shirt, the same garment he’d worn on his doomed return flight to Earth. He risked a glance around the cavern. Men focused downward on mining the boulders, covering the rocky surface like a busy bee hive. Delmar worked near Josh as always. Although older, the man never wavered. He lifted the pulverized stone fragments onto the hovering flat that moved away when filled.

The Barracudas adapted quickly to the extreme working conditions, filing into the work detail like experienced laborers. At the beginning of their second work day, the Tyral Pirate guards removed one Barracuda from the mining crew along with several others. Josh wondered where they had moved the new group, but Delmar advised against asking. He hoped the guards took them to strip another freighter, but thought it was a false hope.

The massive leader of the Barracudas often worked near Josh. With his bulging muscles and wild red beard, the bald man looked feral as he tore into the stone each day. It was as if the boulders themselves had wronged him. The man worked in silence except for the occasional grunt.

But today the man worked so close to Josh he could smell the man’s sweat. They spent the first hours in grim silence. The Barracuda lifted the pick ax over his head and smashed it down. He used the ax to move around the rubble he had created before lifting the tool again. The force of his work shook the ground. Josh glanced at his arms, comparing them to the beast of a man near him. Having played football, he always thought his arms were toned, something that made him proud. Working next to this man made him feel small, weak.

As he gazed into the dense asteroid field surrounding their prison, the reality of his situation pressed on him. With the amount of guards constantly on watch, there would be no escape in his future. There would be no stealing a vessel. If he did, Rodon would pursue and hunt him down before he could plot a curve to take him to Legion space. Or they would just destroy him. He would never get out of here alive, and now he had to work next to an pungent body builder.

He sighed and lifted his pick ax. He plunged it into the rocks, trying to ignore the fact he did not make the ground shake like the leader of the smugglers.

A force pushed him from behind, thrusting his head backward.

"What the hell?" Josh cried out, spinning around.

The hulking man squared off with him, biceps swelling as if they would rip through the skin. His eyes blazed like blue fire.

"Watch where you swing that thing, little man," he said with a booming voice. Even with the translator working in his ear, the man's growl lifted above the chaotic noise of the workers.

Others turned in their direction.

"I didn't mean to do anything," Josh said, gripping the handle on his ax.

The man shoved Josh hard in the chest, pushing him backward. His heel caught a boulder, and he tumbled into a pile of rocks. The back of his head hit a stone. His vision wavered and darkened. Dimly, the outline of his attacker loomed over him like a gothic statue, the ax c****d like a weapon. At least, he thought, his days as a prisoner would soon be over.

Delmar burst into his line of sight, the smaller man grabbing the back of the ax poised to smash into his skull.

"They will kill us all if you do this!" Delmar shouted, his voice gruff.

The smuggler lowered the ax, shrugged off Delmar, and slowly turned back to his work.

Delmar knelt on one knee and offered to help Josh rise. He felt like he was on a carousel when he stood, the world spinning. His legs wobbled and he pressed a hand to the back of his head. A throbbing pain flashed. Delmar glanced around and led Josh back to his mining site.

"Come now,” Delmar said. “No guards have noticed. Try to get back to work."

"I didn't do anything," Josh said, wincing as Delmar thrust the ax back in his aching hand. "I didn't even touch that guy."

"Quiet," Delmar said. "He is their leader, trying to exert his influence. You are fine now. Finish the day."

With his arms sapped of strength and his head still spinning from the collision, he spent the rest of the day attempting to look as busy as possible. The guards usually targeted the resting prisoners, so he focused on keeping his head low.

The hours dragged, the endless labor blurring one site with another until the entire universe seemed comprised of these peculiar black and gray rocks. He would obliterate a stone, load it on the drone cart, watch it fly away, and continue the process again. His lungs burned and his mouth dried up. Just when he thought the work day would end, the guards moved them to another site to begin the process over again. With artificial florescent lights illuminating the cave like a highway construction site, he had no sense of how long they had been working.

After what could have been two days or more, the guards halted the labor. Several prisoners collapsed on the rocks they targeted, some in mid-swing. Josh glanced around the room, his mouth hanging open like a caught fish as he gasped. Workers who remained standing gazed into space, their minds wrecked and any sense of humanity sapped away. The guards marched the prisoners who could still walk back to the common cell. Laborers still on the ground reached for them as they passed. A younger worker in front of Josh reached down to help an old man. A guard smacked the youth in the back of the head and he tumbled next to the gray-haired prisoner. He glanced at the man as he passed, saw the bloodshot eyes surrounded by wrinkled skin.

Two laser blasts echoed throughout the hall. No other workers tried to help the exhausted men who remained on the floor. More shots flashed. Josh struggled to put one foot in front of the other.

No one spoke, not even the guards.

When they entered the common cave, Josh collapsed next to Delmar. His friend tapped him on the shoulder as Josh rolled over on his back.

“Rest, my friend,” Delmar said.

“Don’t worry.” Josh took in a long, slow breath. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being there.” Josh closed his eyes. “Nice to have a friend.”

Delmar murmured an affirmative as others collapsed around them. The workers fell in a heap. Snores rumbled in seconds. Josh drifted into a dreamless sleep.

When a hand the size of a baseball glove wrapped around his ankle, Josh thought he was dreaming. A strong force dragged him across the cave floor, slamming his head against the jagged stones. His teeth buried into his tongue and blood filled his mouth. When he stopped moving, he tried to stand, but his muscles refused. The massive hands clasped his shoulders and thrust him into the air like a doll. He fought for breath, but a hand pressed against his mouth.

“Stay quiet or I will snap your neck.”

Despite the darkness, Josh knew it was the smuggler’s leader. The man’s monstrous silhouette loomed over him. He nodded and the giant removed his hand, placing him back down. The rest of the workers slept undisturbed. A pirate guard at the cave’s entrance faced the other way, his attention on lighting some kind of cigarette.

“What do you want?” Josh breathed.

The man leaned in, close enough to feel the heat and smell the stench of his breath. “They say you are a pilot?”

“Who says that?”

“The other prisoners.”

He thought for a moment. “Aren’t you a smuggler?”

“I’m captain of the vessel Sparkling Light. I’m not a pilot.” He gripped Josh’s shoulder hard. “I ask you one last time; are you a pilot?”

He winced, his muscles sore as the man burrowed his fingers into his skin. “Yes. I’m a pilot. What of it? It’s not going to do us any good.”

The hands gripped harder on Josh’s shoulders and pushed him into the wall. He clamped his lips shut, doing his best to keep quiet.

“What do you fly?” the man asked.

“Fighters.”

The smuggler leaned in close. “You are military? You are a Zahl pilot?”

“No.”

He shook Josh. “Legion, then?”

“I am a prisoner like you!” Josh snapped. “What the hell does it matter what I did before? You wanna talk the night away or did you wake me for some purpose?”

The man smiled, keeping his vice-like grip on Josh’s shoulder. “Getting angry, little man?”

Josh grabbed for the man’s wrist, but his strength could not move the massive arm. He sighed. “Yeah, I’m pissed off I have to be in here with you when I could be sleeping. Tell me what you want before I have to start a fight I’ll lose.”

The grip lightened and the man snorted as he steadied Josh against the rock. “You have balls, little man.”

“I’ve got nothing to lose. What does it matter? I’ve been here longer than you and I don’t have the strength to work another day, much less fight you all night.” He looked into the man’s eyes. “If you’re going to do something, do it.”

The man released his grip and gestured to the rock floor. “Sit.”

Josh fell to the ground and leaned against the stone wall. His body went limp. He gazed into the darkness. The man sat next to him and grunted.

“I don’t want to go out like this,” the man hissed. “My crew expected better.”

Josh shook his head. “This wasn’t on my list of future plans either.”

The man grunted, burying his hand inside his bushy red beard. “My name is Waylon Neary.”

“I’m Josh.” He rested his head in his hands for a moment, hoping the pounding headache would eventually subside. “So did you really wake me up to find a pilot or did you just want to fight?”

Waylon exhaled. “I don’t know. Maybe both.”

“Well, if you have a plan to get out of here, I’d like to hear it.”

He folded his arms over his chest. “Needed a full crew before I could have a plan. Now that I know you’re interested, I’ll work on a plan.”

For the first time in a long while, Josh felt a sense of hope. His heart raced as he thought of escaping this asteroid. “And what would this plan entail? It’s not like there are a lot of choices.”

Waylon paused. “When they brought us in, a line of freighters had just unloaded an assortment of supplies. It seemed regular, like it was scheduled.”

“A scheduled delivery? Did the freighters leave?”

He nodded. “Seemed like they were prepping for takeoff.”

Among other less than savory practices, the Tyral Pirates were known throughout Quadrant Eight for stealing ships of all kinds, stripping them, and selling off the pieces to the highest bidder. As for their supplies, Josh’s CO on Tarton’s Junction said Rodon stole all the resources he used to create his sad little empire. However, Josh had never heard of them doing any business that would result in a scheduled delivery.

“What was in the freighter?” he asked.

“Crates of some kind, looked official. Some kind of military equipment. I didn’t get a chance to linger, you know?”

“The guards never go away, so how in the world do you expect to get off this rock.”

“I’m working on it. We’ll have to keep an eye on the next prize the pirates bring in here. Do they move us often?”

“I’ve been here for a while—I don’t know how long. We work long hours and I’ve lost track of the time, but ships are constantly coming and going. They bring in freighters for us to strip. When we’re not doing that, they put us in these caves to mine this mineral.”

“It’s Lutimite.”

“How do you know?”

“It’s what powers ships in the Zahl Empire. Pretty common in those space lanes, but we don’t see a lot of it in Quadrant Eight. Powers Lutimite Reactors. Zahlians pay a pretty penny for it.”

“Why would Rodon be using us to mine something for the Zahl?”

“I just got here, but I’d say for the money. Why else would they be doing it?”

Josh chewed on his bottom lip. “So we have to steal a ship?”

“I’d recommend that over escaping through an airlock on your own. I think you’d get farther.”

“Right.” He nodded. “Okay, I can help you but Delmar is coming with us.”

“Who?”

“My friend. He’s the man that was next to me today in the pits. The one you almost killed.”

“The old man?”

“Yes,” Josh said, looking at him. “Either he comes with us, or I’m out.”

Waylon nodded. “You promise you can fly whatever we decide to steal coming through that hangar, and you can bring anyone you want.”