Star Runners: Revelation Protocol

Chapter 2

2

A sweaty hand smacked his face.

Josh cringed, the side of his head flashing with pain. His vision blurred. Before him loomed a bearded man with a scar running from the corner of his eye to his chin. His attacker leaned in close. Hot putrid breath filled Josh’s nostrils. The foul figure laughed, turned to the other pirates and said something in another language.

When he turned back, his lips curled back over his blackened teeth.

“Menga tow, Star Runner,” he breathed.

He leaned forward and ripped the silver wings from Josh’s chest.

Josh sprang forward in protest, but the pirate gestured with his pistol. Hanging his head, he leaned back and lifted his hands slightly.

As the wretched pirate attached the Star Runners’ wings onto his own chest, Josh looked around the destroyed interior of the freighter. Other passengers formed a line, marching at gunpoint out of the vessel. Small fires popped, seats burning from the brief firefight.

Bodies, blackened and burned, had been shoved between the seats to keep the aisle clear for the exiting passengers. Among them, Agent Mike Fischer lay twisted in an unnatural shape between the chairs. Josh stared, unable to pull his eyes away from the man he had been speaking to hours before.

The foul pirate yanked Josh forward and shoved him into line. He laughed, pointing and making sure the other pirates saw him. Josh didn’t understand, only obeyed and fell into line with the rest of the captives.

Josh fought against the nausea as he passed more destroyed bodies of men and women who died as the freighter had been captured. He tried to make sense of the situation. Hours before, he couldn’t sit still because he would soon be home. Now, he would be at the mercy of a pirate gang.

A petite woman in line before him trembled as they passed the pirates. They touched her straight black hair, sneering and cackling like hyenas. Josh hit one of their hands away but received a blunt thump to the back of his head for his troubles.

Adding the growing lump on the back of his head to the other pains flaring around his body, Josh kept his eyes low and winced. The pirates led them through the hatch and into a large cavern in low light. The rocky interior stretched far enough to fit the freighter and several smaller fighters. Two openings to the cave flanked either side, both revealing a field of stars and asteroids.

They must have taken us to a hidden base somewhere, he thought.

A ragged group of prisoners worked on the far side of the cave, digging into the rock with pickaxes. Their skin appeared painted on their bones, their clothing nothing but tattered fabric linked by thin threads. Pirate crews brandishing rifles and menacing swords guarded the workers.

The pirate at the outer hatch pushed Josh down the ladder. They forced him into a line at the right of the ladder’s base. Pirates stripped all the passengers, piling the clothing near the closest wall. The lady in front of him went to the left with the other women and the elderly. She glanced back at Josh, her dark eyes wide. Josh nodded, trying to project confidence, but the pirates quickly ripped apart their connection. They pushed her back into the group of crying women.

“What’s going on?” the man closest to him asked.

A laser shot flashed, filling the cave with the sound of thunder. The man flew into the rock wall, sparks erupting from his chest.

Josh spun toward the direction of the shot. The repulsive guard sporting his Legion wings stood at the edge of the line, his rifle trained on Josh’s face.

“Luctup!”

A voice boomed from the edge of the platform. All eyes turned to fall upon a well-dressed, middle-aged man. He stood with his hands on his hips, a flashy silver pistol in a black holster on his belt. He wore a red uniform with black trim and had his dark hair slicked back. The man, obviously the pirate leader, appeared in stark contrast to the other rabble in the cave as he took a few steps in their direction.

The leader paused, pointing at the line of the women and the elderly. He barked orders in another language.

The pirate rabble led the women and elderly away at gunpoint. Some screamed and wailed. Others moved away with a quiet resignation, either too tired or frightened to fight back. While they moved away, Josh glanced at the man who had been shot for speaking. Smoke still swirled and lifted from his chest.

The pirate wearing Josh’s wings yelled back to the leader, gesturing wildly. The leader glanced in his direction and nodded. The eyes of the other prisoners looked toward him. Josh took a deep breath as his breathing quickened.

Were they going to kill him?

He focused on the end of the rifle, the same weapon just used to kill an innocent civilian. The rifle jerked toward the pirate leader. Josh took his steps as if he had great weights attached to his ankles.

He wanted to go home. It’s all he had wanted since being brought to Tarton’s Junction. He wanted to see his parents. He wanted to talk to Kadyn.

He shuffled between the other pirates. Their stench was overwhelming.

Two pirates stepped before Rodon.

One guard hissed in his ear.

“I don’t understand,” Josh whispered.

The man who had spoken laughed, holding his hand to his ear.

A hard object smashed into the back of Josh’s leg. He tumbled to the rocks. A hand engulfed his skull and yanked him upright. Two pirates held Josh by the shoulders.

The leader took one knee in front of Josh and suddenly pulled out a yellow fruit that looked like an apple. He took a bite and stared. When he finished chewing, he smiled.

With the fruit still in his hand, he pointed at Josh. “Star Runner?”

Josh swallowed, hesitating. The man arched an eyebrow. He finally nodded.

The leader looked at his pirates and gestured with his free hand. The pirates placed a headset over Josh’s head. The earpiece buzzed as the leader said something in their guttural language.

Josh shook his head. “What?”

The leader brought the back of his hand across Josh’s face.

He tasted the salt of blood on his lip. It must be a translator.

“English,” he said softly.

The buzzing in his earpiece ceased. When the leader spoke this time, Josh could understand.

“They tell me you are a Star Runner?” the translator buzzed.

He swallowed. “Yes.”

“Welcome, Star Runner. I am Dax Rodon.” He smiled. “We always revel in the chance to take a Star Runner alive and show him or her the light. Many of these you see around you were once sold the lie of the Legion.”

Rodon finished the apple and stood, his hands once again on his hips.

“What do you want with me?” Josh asked through his teeth.

“Simple. Join us.”

He recoiled. “Join you?”

“I need pilots,” Rodon said with a shrug. “I also need laborers who will be worked to death. I think you would like to live, no?”

He glanced over to the workers on the far side of the cave. “I will never join you.”

“Pity.”

The pirates kicked Josh forward and began beating him. The rifles pounded his body until he spit blood. They turned him over, smashing the front of his face. Josh cried out, but they didn’t stop.

He did not know how long they pummeled him. When they stopped, his eyes had nearly swollen shut. He dimly felt hands lift him to his knees. Through tears and blood, he saw Rodon kneeling down in front of him again.

“Now that you’ve had time to think about it,” he said, “I ask again; will you join us?”

Josh wanted to say he would—he did not think he could survive another beating. But he faintly remembered his training and knew the pirates would only torture him to reveal weaknesses in the Legion forces. He would be forced to fight his own people.

“I …” he breathed, his mouth filling with blood. “I…will not betray the Legion.”

Rodon tossed what remained of his fruit at Josh’s face. “Such a waste.”

He folded his arms across his chest and said, “Do what you will with him. Help him understand what happens when he turns us down. If he survives, we can use him in the workforce. Come on! We have work to do.”

A boot slammed into Josh’s rib.

“Whoa!” Rodon yelled. For a moment, Josh thought he would be spared the torture. “Get my translator before you continue.”

The pirates removed the headset. Soon, the beating continued. Josh lost consciousness, the world fading away into darkness.

The walls looked like rock covered in oil, the crumbled surface glistening in the dim light. Josh remained on his back, unmoving as he surveyed his surroundings. The small room prohibited him from completely stretching out, so he rested his legs on the walls. The surface looked like stone, but squished like a sponge under his bare feet. His muscles ached. His stomach twisted and turned, protesting the days he had gone without food. The green slop dropped yesterday at the opening slithered and crawled in the bowl. He tried to eat around the movement, focusing only on the thick snot broth. It tasted like a salty nosebleed doused with sour lemon juice. He had gagged, but swallowed the lukewarm liquid before it lingered too long on his tongue.

The floor chilled his skin. He had been forced to wear rags since his arrival. After beating him, Rodon’s gang stripped him of his uniform, forcing him naked through a series of underground tunnels. Dozens of other prisoners marched with him, packed in so tight he rubbed against shoulders slippery with perspiration. The first night, he thought the pirates would kill him.

But they didn't.

Had it been weeks? Months? Mom and Dad definitely knew he had disappeared by now. The Braves’ game had come and gone. His parents would have had to go by themselves, if they had gone at all. Soon, they would be told he was missing. They might never know the real reason he would not be coming home, only that he had been lost at sea. He swallowed, suppressing the urge to cry.

Why was this happening? What would be the pirates’ end game? Starving hundreds of prisoners would serve no purpose, letting them live wouldn't, either.

Voices echoed from beyond the rusted metal gate of his tiny holding cell. With his translator gone, the conversations meant nothing, gibberish whispered by the goons of children's nightmares. Soon, he would be killed. Please let it be fast.

A man called, the voice closer than before, but in a foreign language. Josh sat up, resting on his elbows. The man called again.

"Hello?" Josh asked in a raspy voice, grunting as he pressed against the metal gate.

“Bley bak tara knee.”

"I don't understand."

“Bley bak tara knee dulca.”

"I am sorry. I can't help you if I don't understand."

He slithered toward the rusty gate and leaned against it, the rough surface scraping his neck. Heavy equipment rumbled from somewhere down the hall. An engine fired, rattling the walls as if a ship landed. After a moment, the engine ceased. Voices yelled followed by commotion of movement.

Josh stretched his legs in front of him as far as he could. His stomach ached. His head pounded. He crossed his arms over his chest and continued listening to the bizarre range of noises in this dreadful place…wherever it was. His mind wandered, drifting like a loose buoy in a restless ocean. He lost any concept of time.

He thought of his best friend. Austin had probably watched from Tarton's Junction when the Saber had been attacked. A memory flashed of Austin staring at the photo of Marilyn Monroe at the coffee shop when they were in high school. Kadyn, beautiful Kadyn, with her wild hair the color of sweet caramels, enjoying one of her fruit-filled, overpriced drinks.

Another memory came. Sunlight beaming through Kadyn’s hair, radiating down from a cloudless spring sky. The smell of cheap popcorn filled his nose. She took one popped kernel at a time, chewing slowly as she watched Austin’s baseball game unfold. She had said chewing slower forced her to eat less, and popcorn was nothing but empty calories. He sat quietly, nodding and listening to her voice. He had dated the cheerleaders, dated the so-called “hot” girls in high school, but his time with empty relationships had passed. Kadyn was special, following her own light. Whenever he could, he went to Austin’s game with her because she was his best friend’s only ride home. The game’s lasted at least two hours, and he said little. During the game, he had a chance once.

“I’m going to the Falcons’ game on Sunday,” he had said.

Kadyn turned, staring at him under her red-rimmed sunglasses. “This weekend?”

“Yeah. My family’s going. I haven’t been in a while.”

She had smiled at him. “Huh, I’ve never been to a pro football game before.”

“Really?” he had asked, the memory hurting his heart. “You should go sometime. They’re awesome.”

A coldness shot through him.

He should have asked her then, opened up to her in the way he always did in his dreams. Everything had moved so quickly that final Christmas. He never told her anything, barely said goodbye before he left for San Francisco. He had always hesitated before, thinking Kadyn and Austin had something going on. Their relationship always seemed deep, but Austin never made a move. He should have asked Austin about his feelings toward Kadyn. Now, he would never get the chance to tell her anything.

His body ached worse than it had following the Gauntlet in the mountains of northern California. His joints complained with each movement, his muscles burning. Deep down, he knew his body was shutting down. He had not eaten a proper meal in at least a week. Or did it only feel that long? The clock fought him with each passing moment. Seconds became minutes, hours became days.

He allowed his mind to wander again, welcoming the sense of reliving the memories of Mom, Dad, and friends he would never see again.

“Bley bak tara?”

Josh jolted from a restless sleep. "I told you: I cannot understand your language. I can't understand you!"

"He wants to know your name," a different, rougher voice said.

The world stopped, the memories of his dreams snapping away like a shut-off light. Josh sat in silence, listening to his heart pumping blood into his ears with an impressive force. He must have hallucinated the voice.

"Well?” the voice asked again. “Your name?"

Josh swallowed, his throat dry as sandpaper. "Josh."

"Dosh."

"No. Josh."

"Ah, Josh. You speak Earth tongue very well."

The voice spoke in another language for a moment, apparently translating as a conversation ensued. Josh peered into the darkness as he listened for any clue as to the topic.

"Earth is a long ways from these space lanes,” the voice finally said. “In fact, it’s far from any space lanes. How did you learn this tongue?"

Josh thought a moment. Should he reveal everything to voices whispering in the dark?

"I spent many years there. You?"

"I have as well."

“You lived there?”

“Worked there.”

Worked? How could someone work on Earth and end up a captive of the Tyral Pirates a thousand light years from anywhere? The man speaking from down the hall had to be either lying or there was more to this story.

"I don't know your name," Josh said.

"Delmar Wain."

"What did you do?"

"I transported things."

Josh waited for more explanation. When Delmar said nothing, he asked, "What? Like mail?"

"Sure. The mail."

Josh leaned his head against the rock. "You're a smuggler."

"Of sorts.” Delmar paused before sneering, “Not all of us are fortunate enough to be a Legion Star Runner."

He tensed. “Who told you that lie?”

Delmar snorted. “I know everything that happens on this rock.”

“How do you do that?”

“I listen.”

In class, he learned about the dangers smuggling posed to the Legion space lanes. Legion agents struggled to root out corruption on core planets, but it was nearly impossible on dark worlds. He never considered that smugglers also operated on Earth. It had just never occurred to him.

“How long have you been here?” Josh asked.

“We’ve been in this spot for at least…how do you say it? A month?”

His shoulders deflated. “Have they done anything to you?”

Delmar paused. For a moment, Josh wondered if the stranger had gone to sleep.

“Not directly,” Delmar breathed. “Most of us have been waiting here. In the past, they’ve used me to help strip a stolen freighter or fighter, but nothing recently. It’s been quiet for us. Lots of machinery coming through this spot each day.”

“Machinery? Like what?”

“I’ve only heard it. Could be freighters. I don’t know.”

"Where are we now?” Josh asked. “Do you know?"

"No," he said, grumbling. “Doesn’t matter where, anyway. They’ll sell us to slavers soon."

Josh clutched his arms to his chest. "You think?"

"Yes. Or we will die here."