4. Xandor

Chapter 4

Xandor

All aboard

I t’s a fine day. The sun kisses my face, such a pleasant warmth that I wonder when I’ll see it again. But it’s past time for me to depart Klendathor. I’ve lingered too long. I belong among the stars, spreading my wings, devastating powerful enemies, and consoling their females. Klendathor was a welcome relief for weary eyes and a tired heart, but its many rules grate and stifle my spirit.

I march through the black marble hangers of Star City, following the route to bay sixty-eight. I’m followed by my two companions, the young warrior Logarn, burdened by the dreary monotonous psychotic tendency which afflicts all our youth. In truth, he’s a liability, but Krogoth requested I take him, leaving me no choice.

I’m much more pleased about my second companion, the indomitable Noroth. His impressive victory over Vethios during the last clan meeting won him much honor. And his gruff manner, intimidating crushed face and wide build is the perfect remedy for many species of aliens, stubborn short-stuffs or otherwise.

Turning onto bay sixty-eight in the distance, a gray ship comes into view, my heart already sinking at the sight of it. “Looks rather small?” I ask, shielding my eyes from the purple sunlight to get a better look.

“Hmm, must be the distance,” Noroth grunts, his breath whistling through his smashed nose.

The terrible reality becomes clearer with each passing step as we march closer. “No, it’s voiding small, and looks like it’s weathered more blows than we three combined,” I jest, as I shake my head with rueful disdain.

The ship is old, some variation of a blocky Argorian transport ship. Much smaller than I expected, about a tenth the size of a Scythian battlebarge. It appears that someone may have painted it black at one point, but it has long since returned to its bare gray metal. A tut escapes my lips as some obvious patches of arcweave all thick mismatched colors and crooked misaligned bolts, struggling to form a straight line, catch my eye. Who would do such shoddy work?

Noroth grins. The expression has minimal effect softening his face. “You’re paying five hundred thousand credits for this?” He reminds me, gesturing to the heap of space junk. I suppress a groan at his annoying but astute observations.

That voiding Argorian.

“He said it was the finest ship in this galaxy... calls it the Mutalisk’s Hammer.” I run my hand over the hull, picking off flakes of old paint and crusted char from the sides. “More like Mutalisk’s drooping ball sack.”

Noroth erupts into laughter, his long red hair fluttering over his face. “Do you see this landing gear?” he continues after catching his breath. “It’s wonky, look.” With a swift motion, he extends an arm up the side and starts rocking the ship, eliciting a minuscule swaying motion.

I grimace, wondering If I should cancel the deal... But this is the only ship available with a crew. “What do you think, Logarn?” I ask, more out of curiosity if the crazy young ones have any opinions when not bathed in blood.

“The ship does not appear functional,” Logarn responds, his gaze fixated on the universe’s most expensive wreck, in a tone devoid of emotion.

“Can’t argue with that.” Noroth gives Logarn a hearty slap on the back. “Maybe the crew will make up for it?” He turns to me with a shrug of his broad shoulders.

“Useless they’re bringing a new ship with them, I doubt it.” A sigh escapes me as I observe the bullet-like dents. “Who in the void would even risk hyper speed in this heap of junk?”

As if in response, the hiss of the docking hatch door pierces the air. The three of us leap back out of the way as the arcweave ramp extends out to clang upon the black polished hanger floor. A tall, broad Argorian beams down at us from the docking hatch. The plasma rifle slung over his back draws my eyes.

“That weapon might be worth more credits than the ship,” I muse, murmuring.

“Welcome friends!” The Argorian claps his hands together, his face beaming, as he marches down the ramp alongside a Jungarian female, her brown fur offset by a prominent scar across her face, lending her a fierce demeanor despite her smallness.

But only the plasma rifle poses a threat to us. “When does the proper ship arrive?” I ask, my voice dripping with disdain.

The Argorian reacts well, his expression unchanged, while the female’s golden eyes narrow, a hint of fangs being exposed. Oh, she is touchy.

“You have a sense of humor! I like that,” The Argorian remarks with a deep bow, his long coat with oversized lapels billowing in the light breeze. “I am Captain Kaanus of the Mutalisk’s Hammer!” He declares with a dramatic tone, extending a flowing arm towards the ship with a flourish. Impressive, but wasted on the abandoned wreck. “And this lovely female is my co-pilot and navigator, Hyanxa.” She gives the faintest of nods.

I tower over the pair, peering down. “You promised me the finest ship in this galaxy, Kaanus. What you deliver is a heap of scrap,” I accuse, my voice firm, glaring into his milky-white eyes.

Kaanus grins, the blue tint of his gray scales simmering. “Looks can deceive friends, a trick, a mirage to lull my enemies into a false sense of security,” he retorts.

Noroth scoffs, “The only trick here is this charade you’re performing now,” he says, heat in his voice as he gestures to the ship. “An Argorian class C transport ship second generation.” He turns to Kaanus with a smirk. “Might be the oldest ship in the galaxy.”

Kaanus shows no sign of doubt or offense to his credit. “You know your ships, soldier. But this is a modified class C transport, upgraded with a fourth-generation Elerium hyperdrive and reinforced arcweave exterior.” He turns, reaching up to rap the hull. “I replaced the old thrusters myself, too. Gutted out all the old circuits with new polysynth boards.” He throws open his arms. “Like I said, looks can be deceiving.”

“This heap of junk really has a fourth-generation Elerium hyperdrive?” I ask, my voice laced with skepticism. At least the ship will be fast, if it can hold together.

“Of course. Follow me and I’ll show you.” He and the female turn back up the ramp, as I shrug at Noroth before following the pair. We emerge through the docking hatch into a cargo hold brimming with wooden crates and barrels. No doubt this captain indulges in trade, and maybe some smuggling.

“What about shields and weapons?” I call over the Captain’s shoulder.

“No shields, but as I mentioned, thick reinforced arcweave plating. Our weapons. Two twin-mounted railgun placements, and two missile launchers loaded with fusion reactor warheads,” he responds, his voice proud and back straight.

But I’m not impressed. “Those kinds of calibers would do little against plasma shielding,” I state, my tone flat as I look around the cargo room to see a large Barlyxian near the entrance.

“With all due respect, friend. You’re familiar fighting on advanced Scythian warships. My Mutalisk’s Hammer is more than adequate,” Kaanus counters with a smooth confidence.

Maybe he has a point? I’m expecting too much from civilian-class ships. With the modern Elerium engine on such a small vessel, speed will be our greatest strength.

Passing through the door, the bare chested green Barlyxian bristles. “Pfft. Only two arms,” he spits in a loud, deep voice, sending saliva spraying onto my face.

Fury erupts within me like a boiling river of blood at such an offense. Without hesitation, I shove the Barlyxian into the metal wall with a mighty push; the room vibrates as he crashes against it with a thud. I peer down at my attacker as he steadies himself with his four arms spread against the wall. A dumb smile creeps across his lips. This one is either a fool or has a death wish.

Kaanus rushes to stand before me, hands in a placating gesture. “Quad is a simple giant. He’s harmless,” he says in a rush, concern etched on his expression. “Apologize at once, Quad!” He demands with a hint of rage he has kept well-hidden till now.

I wipe the simpletons’ phlegm from myself, studying this fleshy Quad who appears more bemused than hostile. My fists unclench as my rage lessens at the sight of him. “What? I state facts,” Quad brushes himself off as he approaches, a big grin on his face. “You have two, I have four.” He flexes, showing no small amount of muscle.

Beside me, Noroth laughs at the strange sight. No doubt thinking the same as me, that Quad pales compared to us. “Very good. More hands for wiping your ass,” I mock, smiling down at Quad, before nodding towards Kaanus for him to continue.

“Not wiping, but bashing!” Quad bellows after us, but I’ve already turned to leave the cargo hold.

“Ignore Quad,” Kaanus says with a sigh. “I know I try to.” We continue down a narrow corridor, the walls polished gray metal, our boots echo off the grated gangway. The cramped ceiling doesn’t clear my head by much distance. The corridor diverges in three more directions, as two Glaseroids scurry past in a heated discussion, their many arm limbs flailing at each other. They don’t even notice us as they pass. For some reason, this irritates me more than Quad’s interaction does.

“The brothers, Job and Mod,” the female Hyanxa calls out, with a hint of disdain. “Our engineer and scientist. When you can get them to focus, that is,” she adds, flicking her red hair over her shoulder to punctuate her point.

Kaanus leans in whispering conspiratory “Glaseroids work for cheap, but they never shut up.” He shakes his spiked head.

“I’ve had dealings with their kind before. You’d be better venting them into space,” I interject with more anger than I intended. The memory of what they did to Astraxius and the other warriors on Terminus Exile Station is still raw.

Kaanus ignores my advice and continues the path straight ahead. As we pass the intersection, movement down the left corridor catches my eye. A lanky figure with accusing eyes and drooping tentacles glares at us. I give Noroth a nudge, nodding down the corridor at the stranger.

“A Gorglaxian?” Noroth blurts out in surprise.

“Oh, that’s Triandale, our Security Officer,” Kaanus replies, his tone brisk as he increases his pace. He’s hiding something.

“This Triandale eyes me like I’ve shat in his bed,” I glare down at Kaanus, eager to see his reaction. “Is he going to be an issue?”

Kaanus lets out a deep sigh. “He’s sore about the Scythian conquest of his people.” He shrugs his shoulders as he continues along the corridor. “But I’ve spoken to him already. He’ll not trouble you.”

Is that so? I’ve seen that look before and it always precedes trouble. I recall fighting in the conquest of the Gorglaxians almost a hundred years ago; it had been a glorious and brutal war. The Gorglaxians had fought with a heroic stubbornness to defend their homeland using their strange graviton technology. But we fought harder still, and they broke before our strength.

The bridge becomes clear up ahead as sunlight streams into the cramped space through the viewport. Kaanus leads us to the right, and already the low hum of an engine being prepped for launch reaches my ears. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end at the sensation of being watched or stalked nearby. I sweep my gaze over the corridor and catch a flicker of black hair disappearing under the gangway. Some sort of infiltration of furry varmints onboard? Or...

“Are there other crew members onboard?” I ask, growing curious.

Kaanus freezes in place, his smile melting away. “One,” he answers, giving nothing away.

This Captain is full of secrets. “Does this ‘one’ hide beneath gangways with black hair, like a spirit haunting your ship?” I prod as my eyes study the Captains with intent.

But it’s Hyanxa who responds with a scoff. “Little sneaky Tyrxie from the maintenance crew.” She nods her head in our direction before continuing. “You can mate her if you have the need. That’s all she’s good for,” she adds, her gaze piercing Kaanus, who stiffens as if struck, his fists clenching.

Oh? What’s this vipertails nest I’ve stumbled upon, a little shake of the tree to see the full extent of the infestation? “It’s been months since we’ve laid with a female!” I exclaim with feigned excitement, gesturing towards Logarn and Noroth. “We can take turns.” I lean towards Kaanus, whispering as his face twists with anger. “Noroth has the tendency to frighten the poor females away. He can be... ferocious in his lust.”

Kaanus explodes with rage, his body trembling in his fury. “She belongs to me, you hear?” he roars, jabbing an accusing finger at me. “I didn’t keep her, for you or anybody else to spoil.”

I show placating hands, struggling to suppress a smirk, as Hyanxa snarls and slaps Kaanus across the face like a barbed whip. “You voiding bastard!” She screams, pushing past us in a hurry to leave, her eyes brimming with tears.

This is much more interesting than I suspected. Kaanus shakes his head as he takes a deep breath, his anger transforming into sorrow and regret. I give him a reassuring pat on the back that almost knocks him over. “Females, eh?” I remark, grinning.

Kaanus rubs his cheek, now shining with extra blueness. “Yeah... females,” he mutters, his voice a whisper.

I laugh, draping my arm around his shoulder. “Ah, cheer up, Captain Kaanus.” Noticing the fourth-generation Elerium hyperdrive behind him. “I’ve decided to hire your fine ship and your... questionable crew.”

“Wonderful,” Kaanus replies, though he doesn’t appear very excited.

But I am.