Starmen (Starmen (Space Opera Series) Book 1) Page 8

  Almost the whole time Jack had known her, she’d been single. She didn’t seem interested in most guys. She preferred the company of Anderson to almost everyone else, but they never dated. Even though he was straight, you’d have got the impression he was her gay best friend.

  She sat down on the sofa with Jack. He gave her a pat on the back like she was one of the guys, and then smiled wide. Anderson sat down on a cushion he placed on the floor.

  “Hey, Jack.”

  “What’s up, dude?” he asked.

  Claudia grinned. “Not much,” she said, taking a sip from her glass.

  “What’s that?”

  “JD and Coke. Wanna try it?”

  “Well, I’ve tried it before. But I’ll have a sip.” He took it, drank a snippet. “Tasty.” Then he washed it away with some beer. “What were you doing before you showed up here?”

  “Writing…editing…considering tossing my laptop out the window.”

  “Tough week?”

  “Yeah. Work has been a pain in the ass, too…”

  “Yeah? A guy called, Daniel, work there?”

  “Yep. Older guy?”

  “Yep. Douche-bag?”

  She nodded agreement, tilting her head a bit. “Kind of is…he thinks he’s something special.”

  “He’s a drug dealer. Nothing special about that.”

  She looked surprised, those round eyes beheld him suspiciously. “Were you buying off him?”

  “No. I just know him,” he promised, shrugging off her inquisitive glare.

  Claudia’s nose crinkled at the bridge as she shrugged, too, then she took a drink. “How many beers have you guys had?”

  “Two,” Anderson answered.

  “Good. I wanna get drunk. I’ve been so frustrated this week.”

  They paused to drink. "So, Mark, how is your graphic novel coming along?" asked Claudia, in the silence that followed.

  Jack eased back into the sofa to listen with a beer resting side-ways against his chest.

  "Fine," Anderson answered, gave a nod, then looked away. I call B.S. on that!

  "Have you almost finished it?"

  "Ugh..." He ran a hand through his hair, gave a defeated grin. "No. I thought I was getting there...I really did. But, now, ugh, I have so much that needs re-done. You know what I'm like – I’m my own worst critic. It’s been difficult to keep myself motivated, you know? I wish my Dad would take a bit of an interest sometimes…”

  “Take it from me, if you wanna be self-reliant, how can you expect to achieve that if you’re hung up on what other people think?”

  As one of the most upbeat and charming people he knew, Jack had always relished being in her company. When she said things like that, even he could take something from it. Trouble was, as they grew up, and she got busier, Claudia was spending less time with them than ever.

  “Look at it this way, if nobody cares today, chances are, nobody will care tomorrow. But you still care, right? That’s all that matters.”

  “That’s easy for you to say, your following is growing online, and you’ve been getting good reviews,” Anderson moaned.

  Claudia laughed, then stopped short. Her round eyes rolling. “I’ve got a ton of bad reviews, too, and had people say really negative things. Some of them were downright mean…the total shit-birds. But, hey, if I let it get me down, I’d never make it anyway. Not that I’ve made it…yet.”

  “How do you deal with that?” asked Jack, genuinely interested. “I mean, I would hate for people to criticise something I’d put so much time and effort into.”

  “I just don’t have a choice. Just like everyone else who creates things. Eventually, no matter what you do, you’re gonna have someone tell you your work is total crap. Also, I have ways of dealing with shit-birds,” Claudia assured them. “I just imagine myself repeatedly kicking them in the crotch. If it’s a girl, I use a lot more toe, to really get up in there.”

  Jack crossed his legs as if to guard himself. “You stay the heck away from me, devil woman.” Claudia shut her eyes, then smiled as if she was considering something dreamy. “Oh, no. You’re kicking me in the dick right now, aren’t you?”

  Her eyes opened, then rolled as she smiled. “Imagination – it’s a beautiful thing,” she told him, pointing both fingers like a poster girl for some ad campaign. “So, Jack, what about you? How’s work been treating you, my old chum?”

  “Meh. The usual. I’m on my feet all day, every day. Lifting stuff and – “

  “The heaviest thing you lift is a bag of potato chips,” joked Anderson.

  “– I’ve gotta lift heavy stuff…sometimes.” Jack chuckled. “Man, that’s the easy part. Do you know how annoying it is having to deal with elderly customers?”

  “No…”

  “They literally complain to me about things just for the sake of having a conversation.”

  Claudia broke in. “I get that a lot at the deli. I like old people. But some of them just drag it on a little much.”

  “A little? I’ve some old chick comes to me every day – every damn day – asking me where the birdfeed is! I show her every time. At the same time, almost to the second. We have to walk all the way to the other side of the store. She tells me about her sons. They both live out of state – if you met her, you’d understand why; she smells like tuna and onion sandwiches. She told me she eats one every morning for breakfast. It must work, though, she looks a hundred!”

  “Jesus,” said Anderson, laughing.

  “I know! It’s crazy. I literally know everything about her life.”

  “She ever ask about you?” asked Claudia.

  “Nope. It’s just her, yappity-yapping."

  “Jack, has an admirer,” joked Claudia.

  Anderson gave a mischievous smirk. “Never mind that. Jack, why don't you tell us about your date?"

  Way to change the subject. Not that I mind. Jack sat up again and rested elbows on his legs. A bright smile took him that he couldn't hold back. "Was excellent."

  "A date?" asked Claudia.

  “With the famous Erika,” Anderson added.

  "Who is, Erika?" asked Claudia, sipping at her drink.

  "A girl from work." His eyes drifted to Anderson. His right brow rose. "A hot girl from work."

  "Good for you," said Claudia, smirking. "You sound very confident."

  "I am. We just clicked...ya know?" he admitted, then he fetched himself another beer from the mini-fridge. The second was almost done already. "It was good. It was like...you know how when..."

  They were all rattled as vibrations took the house. It sounded like an aircraft was making its descent right over the top of them, as if his back garden was a runway.

  Anderson, sitting on the floor, grabbed hold of his desk. Claudia and Jack clung to the sofa.

  There was a loud thud from the roof above. The rattle seemed to surge away toward the back of the house then.

  "What the hell was that?!" Jack cried, when the noise became a low hum in the distance. He fingered his ear and it popped.

  They heard a muffled cry from the outside; someone was on the roof. They were sliding down. A pair of legs dropped in front of the window, and then they kicked, dangling.

  “Jesus Christ!” Anderson cried. He ran to the window and opened it up immediately. He wrapped arms around the dangling legs.

  Jack rushed over to hold his shoulders strongly and made sure he didn’t topple out. Claudia helped Anderson pull the person inside. They fell on the floor of his bedroom in a heap.

  It was a young woman. With a mop of short brown hair, a large mound of swelling on her forehead. In an instant, she was on her feet. She ran for the door, and Anderson scampered after her.

  “Hey, wait!”

  By the time Jack and Claudia had gotten to their feet, Anderson was already thundering down the stairs in pursuit.

  “Stop!” he cried.

  The girl did. She doubled over with blood dripping from her head now.

  “My God,
are you okay?” Anderson’s sympathetic tone suffered tremors from adrenaline.

  When she looked up, they were stunned. The girl’s large round eyes were like pools of mercury; Jack had never seen eyes like it in his life.

  She held her bleeding head and wept. They couldn’t understand a word she was saying – to Jack, it sounded like French.

  “Can you understand her?” he asked, knowing Anderson had done well at the subject in school.

  Anderson shook his head. “No. She isn’t speaking French, Jack.”

  Claudia shook Jack’s shoulder. “Let’s get her something for her head.”

  “Yes. Good thinking.”

  As they came down the stairs urgently, the girl looked up at them in fright. Her cheeks paled, she bolted into the living room. They chased, calling after her as she left by the back door.

  *

  Venec went down the ramp cautiously, exiting the ship with his weapon drawn. Most men in his line of work weren’t used to combat situations, but Venec had been well trained by the same simulations that trained two generations of Starmen in his family.

  This may have been the first time he’d seen real action in many years, but he wasn’t afraid. He was focused. Cane was coming down the ramp behind him with his arm in a sling.

  The air was fresh and clean. All around them were tall trees, and birds flew overhead in the darkening sky. It was a beautiful world. A world much like his own, minus the clouds of gas in the atmosphere that gave Plysar its famous purple hue.

  They had touched down within three hundred yards of the escape pod’s landing zone. “Cane, we’ll split up. Cover more ground that way. If you spot, Amataius, do not engage him.”

  Cane, with a worried look, said, “Don’t worry. I don’t feel like trying to be a hero…”

  “Don’t wander too far away,” Venec advised, before taking off into the woods.

  There was no way Amataius was going to hang around the crash site for long. The Commander, listening to his instincts, decided to head in the direction of the settlement they flew over getting here. Odds were, Amataius was going to head there for shelter.

  For a few minutes he moved, eyes scanning as he went. He planted his back against the base of a thick tree overlooking a deep valley.

  Below, he caught a glimpse of Amataius’ crimson power armour. He was armed with a laser rifle. His helmet had a dark visor that reflected the silver moonlight.

  Venec’s eyes locked. He started after him cautiously. “Cane, I’ve found him,” he said, activating his com.

  Amataius disappeared behind a tree. Venec crouched. His foe came out and took aim with his laser rifle. The whizzing sound of energy fire erupted. Venec dropped to his belly. The shots went overhead.

  He returned fire. Rounds from his sub-repeater pelted the tree; fire consumed the bark.

  His enemy went off running again. “I heard the shots,” Cane cried. “Commander, I am coming to your position.”

  Venec followed his target, sticking close to the tree line. “Be cautious. He’s got a rifle that could pick off a big target like you from distance.”

  “Affirmative, Commander.”

  The path led him to a rocky outcrop. A good place to find cover. He waited, but it didn’t take long for Amataius to reveal his position. He took a few shots at him; Venec rolled to safety and sought cover. Then he returned fire…

  10

  A strip of fire trailed off along the lawn, over the fence, and into the forest where uprooted trees were strewn about in a terrible mess on the hill.

  "It's must’ve been a plane crash!" cried Anderson.

  There were fires in the forest. Jack nodded with wide eyes.

  Claudia had brought a blanket, Jack had some bottled water and a cloth for her bleeding head. They both made it to the girl quickly.

  She was on her knees and looking around weeping. When she saw them, she turned with a shriek of fright. She mumbled in her language.

  “Miss, you’re hurt,” Claudia said, approaching with care.

  “She’s beautiful,” Anderson whispered at his side.

  Minus the blood, he was right. There was something about her. She was so stunning and thin that Jack guessed she was a model. And those eyes – startling at first, but gorgeous as they glistened with tears.

  Claudia knelt down next to her cautiously. She placed the blanket around her trembling shoulders.

  “Miss…can you understand me?” she asked softly. “Do you know what I am saying?”

  The girl shook her head, muttering something, but she accepted the blanket, and even took her hand. She moaned between her words, weeping and trembling fiercely. Claudia put her arms around her and the girl squeezed desperately in reply.

  *

  They were human – Siena couldn’t believe it.

  “Where am I?” Siena had asked, over and over.

  But the natives didn’t understand the common tongue. How can these humans not understand rovian? Are they some lost colony?

  They led her carefully down the hill, away from the destruction, and Siena checked over her shoulder constantly for signs of pursuers.

  She gambled that the natives would protect her. One woman, being chased by two armed men – without an understanding of the common tongue, they were bound to side with her over them.

  At a guess, this was some forgotten colony, far in the uncharted regions of space. The Rovians had been here before, she was sure of it. But they must not have been around for a long time. If they were still here, these people would all be speaking the common tongue.

  She became more optimistic about her chances of finding a ship to get off this world, as she examined the stylish clothes they wore and the level of technology it took to build the homes around her.

  “Siena,” she said, pointing at herself.

  The girl grinned. “Claudia,” she replied, prodding her own chest.

  Weapons fire flared in the distance. They all jumped with fright. Could it be? Did my father survive? As the humans looked around in distress, motor vehicles sounding sirens drove by the house. Siena bolted again.

  “Siena!” the girl called after her.

  This time, she didn’t slow. Adrenaline rid her of her wooziness.

  *

  Venec advanced, pumping rounds from his sub-repeater into the tree he hid behind, and his cover was quickly being decimated. When he pulled the trigger and found his ammo was spent, Venec dropped his gun, fell into a crouch, taking the pistol from his holster, and took aim.

  Amataius came out from cover, his eyes searching, and before he could take aim, Venec blasted him with three shots in the chest. He stumbled back, sparks shooting off his armour, and then he fled downhill with Venec harrying him every step of the way.

  He scored another half dozen hits into his back before Amataius turned and shot back at him. Venec dove sideward, the laser beam zoomed by so close to his body he could feel the heat off it before he crashed down.

  Squeezing his trigger, he let out four shots, and one took him in the gut. Amataius fell down and rolled along the steep, rocky hill, all the way to its bottom.

  Venec was out of range. He got to his feet and hurried on his way down, sticking close to trees to use for cover if the need arose as he went. With an angry laugh, Amataius rose to his feet, blood trickling from his mouth, as his helmet had been almost entirely destroyed, and equipped a pulse pistol of his own.

  “Professor, you surprise me, time and again,” he yelled. Amataius shot at him; Venec ducked and found cover.

  “Father!”

  With a furrowing brow, Venec peered out of his cover and saw Siena come racing out of the woods toward him. Siena is his daughter?

  Amataius got distracted. Venec seized the opportunity to gain some ground. He made it to a good spot on the hill just above, before the harried dictator shot at him again.

  But the inventor, quick as lighting, popped out of cover and shot him in the belly again; his armour cracked, sparks flared. A sharp b
reath of pain escaped him, and blood sprayed from his mouth.

  Before he could shoot again, Amataius grabbed hold of his daughter who had come to help him. He put her in front of him as a shield, and the girl screamed.

  "I'll shoot her," cried Amataius. His gun pressed firmly against her temple as she kicked to try and get free of his strong grasp.

  “Father?!”

  Amataius choked her with his arm, pressing the gun into her head. If I shoot him, his damn gun will go off!

  Desperate tears were in her eyes. Siena wanted to live. She regretted everything that had brought her here. Venec saw it.

  “Father, why!” she screamed.

  Siena was terrified as he looked down on her coldly. “You take after your mother,” he delivered, with venom.

  Fury took her. “You bastard,” she cried, as she struggled. “Let go of me! Don’t even pretend to know who she was!”

  “You’re right. I have no idea who she was, and I don’t care to, given the weak stock she provided me with.”

  Her devotion to Amataius had vanished. Without it, her young mind abandoned the confusion and feelings of displacement that led her down this path in the first place. Siena stopped resisting. Her tears stopped, too.

  She turned to Venec. “Shoot through me, if you have to.”

  Amataius gave a terrible groan, made himself smaller, so that she covered all but a portion of his elbows and head. He pressed the gun hard into her skull. Venec bit down. His aim was centred on Amataius, but Siena filled the corner of his eye.

  “To hell with the both of you!” Amataius screamed, pointing his gun at Venec. He got off a shot before he could react.

  *

  Jack had sprinted ahead of the others. Mark and Claudia couldn’t keep up, as they raced toward all the commotion in search of Siena.

  “Siena!” he cried her name, as he neared the loud whirring sounds and flashing lights.

  He came to a rising hill and saw Siena in the arms of someone pushing a gun against her temple. Jack dropped to hide. What the hell have I got myself into?!

  Another guy with thick, muscular arms, was pointing a gun at her captor sternly. His eyes – they were identical to Siena’s. Whatever she was caught up in, it was obvious this guy had come to save her.