Star Force: Lost Destiny (Wayward Trilogy Book 1) Read online

  Haffa gave it a second look. “Six.”

  Teren all but growled in disgust, though the Critel held firm. Yammar had told them to leave single errors alone, but if they tried to downgrade them more than one to hold out until he got there. That didn’t mean they weren’t going to object to the downgrades, for they’d learned in the past if they didn’t vocally offer opposition Haffa would be emboldened to go even lower.

  “Eight,” he said as Esna sent another one down, then repeated the process for all of them.

  “That’s it,” she said, walking out and letting Teren’s tired arms release the gate. It slid down with a thump as it sealed off the carrying compartment from the ramp.

  “Count of 60.”

  “Confirmed,” Teren agreed as he and Esna hopped off the elevated ramp and landed on the dusty ground beside one of the transports big wheels that stood nearly as tall as they were.

  The Critel sealed the ramp off so the Brendilin couldn’t run back out, then unceremoniously turned and headed back to the administrative building.

  “Nice to see you too,” Teren said just loud enough for Esna to hear, with both of their voices being modulated to sound mechanical and a bit menacing.

  “Always a pleasure,” Esna added as they followed him toward the building but didn’t go in, knowing not to leave their transports unguarded in the settlement. All it would take was 2 minutes for someone to sneak over and rip a component or two off…yet another reason why salvagers were so common and the market for such goods were so lucrative. Often people had to pay to get back their own property or replacements if they got sloppy and left their equipment unguarded.

  Eventually Yammar came back out, a stack of burgo coins in hand, of which he gave both of them four.

  “Take care of business then meet me back here. I got a refill out of the deal, so we’ll be a while knowing how slow Nerret’s people move.”

  “How much?”

  “27.”

  “Ugh,” Teren complained as he grabbed the sack of their salvage and wrapped the strap over his right shoulder.

  “We deserve at least 30 for this lot.”

  Yammar shook his head. “Buyers and sellers. It’s a two way street…and when he loses shipments to bandits and they resell the meat to others, the price comes down.”

  “How is that our problem?”

  “Shastafeen is too far away,” he said regretfully, “but don’t ever let him know that. Now off with you.”

  “Going,” Esna said as she and her brother turned and walked out of the livestock area and onto one of the three main city streets that ran north to south.

  3

  Pale, Palo, and Pal were what they were called, though what the names meant Esna had no idea. Each street had clusters of buildings on either side and was wide enough for three lanes of vehicular traffic, though it was rarely ever busy enough for that. There was no pavement, but the hard packed dirt functioned just about the same with the overhead sun keeping it dry as a bone and the few nearby water spires sucking up any vapor that crept in from the environment or came out of the buildings.

  A few heads turned when Esna and Teren walked by, but no one bothered them. Pale was fairly calm and made up of a lot of residential buildings and warehouses. At night those could get dicey, as did every part of the settlement, but most of the daylight angst took place on Palo…which was where they were headed.

  After heading down a third of Pale they caught a pedestrian cross street and moved single file past a pair of orange-skinned Calavari sitting in the shadows. One was drinking a bottle of raska and the other looked like he’d just had a case of nabbleir. Fortunately they were both dizzy drunks and not belligerent, but both Esna and Teren kept their hands near their holstered weapons just in case.

  When they came out onto Palo there was a lot more foot traffic, almost to the point of being crowds but they weren’t at risk of actually bumping into people. They both walked side by side with a bit of a practiced swagger that they knew would cause others to give them some space as they headed up the long street to one of three junk dealers in the settlement…or at least the ones that actually bothered to make an up front and somewhat legitimate business out of salvage peddling.

  Esna pushed in a rickety door on a likewise decrepit building and looked around silently until a reddish-toned Calavari came out of the back room with some bit of tubing and wires clutched in three of his hands. He waved casually with his fourth and walked over to her through the racks of dirty equipment that he kept up front for the thieves to grab while he kept his best stuff in the back under lock and key.

  “Welcome back, scavengers. What have you brought me today?”

  Teren walked over to a nearby table and pushed aside a few things to make a clear space, then he unslung their sack and began to pull out items one at a time, laying them on the table for the shop keep to inspect. The Calavari immediately took interest in the small piece of curious pipe that Esna had found a week ago.

  “Well now,” he said, picking it up and flicking a few loose components inside. “I haven’t seen one of these in years. You two always bring me something interesting. I really wish I knew where you dug up these trinkets, because I’d be rich…or dead. As it is I still make a good profit even with your fees, and this one will get you 80.”

  “Agreed,” Teren said, knowing to keep their conversation to a minimum. Whenever there was a lot of talk, somehow the Calavari wound up offering lower prices.

  “5 for these two,” he said, picking up some basic sheeting panels. “No clue what this is, but I’ll give you 7.”

  “Harker…” Esna growled, and with her voice enhancement it sounded quite menacing.

  He raised his two lower arms wide in apology as he continued to inspect items with his upper two. “Sorry, old habits. I meant 15.”

  “Agreed…on both,” she added, then remained silent as he sorted through the rest of their stash, buying all but two pieces of it. He gave them their burgos, which they recounted to make sure he hadn’t forgot a few in his clumsiness, then they put the lot in the sack that Teren slung back over his armored shoulder as they left, with Esna’s half cape twirling behind her as a gust of wind puffed in through the door when Teren pulled it open.

  Another puff hit her when she walked outside, but it wasn’t wind. It was a body, knocking her backwards into the shop as she spotted at least one other person outside.

  She kicked the Gnar off her and scrambled to her feet, running outside into a fistfight between three other people that was obviously a ruse, because a small and very fast Nargool was running down the street with their sack of burgos in hand and Teren was scrambling to his feet on the other side of the scuffle.

  “Es!” he yelled, taking off after it.

  She tried to run after him, but the fighters conveniently got in the way again until she pulled out her pistol and fired a couple of shots into the dirt. When she did they broke off and ran, clearing her path as she took after her brother, but Esna was so far behind Teren now that she barely caught sight of him as he took a left turn and went down one of the pedestrian streets.

  Sprinting past people who didn’t have a clue what was going on involved a lot of weaving and impolite brush offs, but it was the lack of sight that was the problem. She could barely see through the crowds and had to fight just to stay in sight of her brother after making the turn…and she had no idea where the Nargool was now.

  Teren was as fast as her, so even at best she wasn’t going to gain any ground on him until he stopped or slowed, so Esna just tried to keep in contact as he ran a zig-zaggy course through the city, making so many turns she lost count. Then all of a sudden he was in front of her and kicking the Nargool in the ass as it ran off.

  Breathing heavily she dodged a few more people and skidded to a halt as Teren pulled out their coins and began counting them.

  “How’d you…catch him?” she asked between breaths.

  “He tripped. Damn it, we’re short. He didn’t ha
ve anything on him…” Teren said, looking around. “He must have dropped some off on the way. Backtrack and we might get lucky.”

  “You just hold onto those,” Esna insisted, heading back the way she’d come but at a slow jog through traffic. The odds of them finding the Nargool were slim, but it was worth a shot. If he was working alone he’d be coming back to his stash on his own. If he had friends…

  “There,” she said angrily, pointing down a side street and sprinting off after him again. The rat-like Nargool reversed direction as soon as it saw them, but Esna had a few steps head start and closed half the distance before it got up to speed. Its movements were quicker than hers, but she had longer legs. Assuming Teren was following without looking, she poured her full attention into the pursuit and rounded the next corner coming out onto Pal and nearly running into a passing truck, but she made it around with a stiff forearm to the metallic hull and gained another 2 meters on the Nargool as it had to step around a tanky Calavari that was as much fat as muscle.

  Behind her Teren followed a pair of seconds later, but when he came out onto Pal a beefy arm swung out and clipped him in the helmet, knocking him backwards and half unconscious. Suddenly he was on the ground and someone was pulling on his sack. Fortunately it didn’t slip out of his grasp, but he was dragged half a meter across the hard dirt with his armor scraping the surface.

  When he got his head clear he grabbed the arm pulling him and swung his hips around, kicking the big whatever it was as someone else’s leg came in and knocked him to the side. The sack ripped when he didn’t let it go, spilling burgos out that numerous people dived on trying to grab. Someone punched him in the head three times as another landed on his legs, pinning him down, then a kick to his helmet knocked him out cold.

  The swarm on the street fought each other briefly, then the assailants and nearby opportunists ran off to keep whatever they’d grabbed before anyone else could take it from them. A pair of Nargool scurried out through their legs and looked around the area for lost coins, poking Teren to make sure he wasn’t awake, then rolled him over to find a burgo trapped underneath his leg.

  One of them grabbed it greedily and ran off. The other rolled the armored figure over the other way, finding nothing underneath, so he grabbed his pistol and made off with it. As Teren lay there a few other seedy individuals looked around, finding nothing of value, but a lanky Critel came out and fumbled around Teren’s neck, finding the release on his helmet then tried to pry it off.

  As it snapped free and pulled up a few inches Teren’s hand came up and locked onto the Critel’s twin boned forearm. He dug his fingers into the gap between them and yanked, with the thief letting go of his helmet and punching him instead. After two hits Teren let go and the Critel ran off.

  “Ahh,” he moaned, rolling over and looking face down at the ground through his off center faceplate.

  “Es?” he asked, standing up and reaching for his gun…that wasn’t there.

  Between the empty feeling on his hip and his throbbing head, his balance was lost as he stepped onto the stone-like curb in front of one of the more respectable establishments and he fell out into busy vehicular traffic on Pal. A light personnel transport hit and knocked him forward at an angle that sent him rolling back onto the walkway and bowling two other people over. His body flung into a third, but the mass of the Calavari stopped him cold as his helmet ricocheted off down the street.

  Esna chased the Nargool for two more turns, then frustratingly lost him entirely. Not knowing which way to go at the next intersection she stopped, desperately wanting something to punch when Teren’s absence dawned on her. She turned around and didn’t see him coming, immediately getting worried as she started backtracking.

  When she got over to Pal there was a large crowd frozen in a wide circle, keeping their distance from something. She gently pushed her way through looking for another fight, then the crowd suddenly backed away from her as well, giving her a good view of her crawling brother with a line of blood coming down his nose…and no helmet in sight.

  “Human,” someone hissed, then a few others began to repeat the word.

  Esna pulled out her pistol and held it at the ready, getting a deadly vibe from the crowd as she ran over to her brother and knelt beside him, keeping her eyes peeled for trouble.

  “How bad are you?” her mechanical voice asked.

  “I’m seeing double,” he said in his natural voice, and the sound of it only seemed to reinforce the fear and hate coming from the crowd.

  Looking around she also scanned the area for his helmet, but it was nowhere in sight. She checked his hip, but his weapon was gone as well, leaving her pistol as their only defense.

  “Stand if you can, and keep close to me.”

  Teren put an armored hand on her shoulder and slowly rose, wobbling heavily, then a lachar blast came out of the crowd and hit him in the chest, knocking him back to the ground.

  Esna stepped in front of him and raised her pistol, looking for a target and seeing half a dozen people scrambled away from a Calavari who was aiming a rifle at her, held between its two right arms. She shot the big red target twice as another shot from him missed her shoulder by a few inches, then suddenly there was lachar fire coming from multiple directions. Esna got hit twice, her armor absorbing most of the damage, but the energy/gaseous impacts spun her around a bit as she dropped to a knee and returned fire with a flurry of shots going towards anything that looked even remotely hostile.

  A few more intense seconds persisted, then there was a moment of silence as four injured/dead bodies lay in the street around her.

  Esna twisted her head left and right, spinning around on her crouching feet looking for other threats before taking a step to the side and standing over her brother.

  “We have to get out of here,” she said, seeing him cringing but still alive as three different spots on his armor were smoking. “Come on.”

  Teren took her hand and rolled onto his feet. His head was still throbbing, but his eyes were focused enough for him to take a step without falling over…barely.

  “I can’t move fast.”

  “Give me what you’ve got,” she said, helping him with one hand and brandishing her pistol with the other while giving intimidating helmet glares at everyone around them as she helped her brother off Pal and into a pedestrian side street. The walls gave them a bit of cover, but the reluctant crowds were growing. They weren’t coming close, but they weren’t letting them get out of sight either. Esna could have easily ran where she liked, for the pedestrian street ahead of them was clearing out in a hurry, but Teren was in bad shape and his head was fully exposed. He was fortunate one of those shots hadn’t hit him there, but by the way people were staring at them she knew they were in trouble.

  The warnings about showing their skin weren’t just a thing of myth after all. She didn’t know what ‘Human’ meant, but it couldn’t be good and the look in the crowd’s eyes was one that she’d seen before, only never this intense. They were out for blood and she didn’t know why. Even passersby suddenly lit up with either fear or revulsion when they stumbled out into their path, then they ran off to safety…either to escape them or track them along with the others from a distance.

  “Keep moving. I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

  “You hit?” Teren asked, his eyes on his feet as he leaned on her heavily.

  “We’re being followed…by everyone.”

  “My helmet…” he said as the reality of the situation dawned on his confused mind.

  “I think so.”

  “Get away from the buildings. Edge of town,” Teren said, spitting some blood after the last word as his nose continued to bleed down onto his lips.

  Another lachar blast hit Esna in the back, causing her to stumble forward as they both fell…but it was intentional. She let her brother drop as she spun around, firing three quick shots into the Nargool at the other end of the street. One hit it in the head, killing it instantly as the crowd
backed away. One of them got hit by her other shots, but whoever it was scrambled out of sight and the street cleared off save for a few brave idiots poking their heads into view briefly to see what was going on.

  “Damn that’s hot,” she said, cringing as the light burn mark in her back slowly subsided, but a trail of smoke was rising from the hole in her short cape as it simmered from the destructive bolt that had melted through it, but the material didn’t catch fire, thankfully.

  “Move,” she insisted, pulling Teren to his feet and trying to get the both of them into a slow jog as they came around a corner and headed down a narrower street, staying away from both Pal and Palo.

  4

  They didn’t make it to the edge of the city. They were a good 200 meters from getting out of the bigger buildings and into the scattered ones around the perimeter when a group of armed people ambushed them at an intersection. Esna saw it coming, thankfully, when one stepped a little too far out of cover and showed the tip of his Calavari-sized boot.

  She threw her brother to the side, pinning him up against the wall as she proactively fired into the ground ahead of them near to the foot, missing it but drawing the ambushers out. There were so many of them she couldn’t count, so she just pulled the trigger as fast as she could, throwing herself to the other side of the street to draw fire away from her brother and taking a shot to her right leg.

  Esna kept her torso level, dropping to a knee for a few shots then juking back into the middle of the narrow street as she continued to fire. Those attackers without armor went down quickly, for with even a little preparation she was a very a good shot, but at least two of them were wearing vests and another non-Calavari was wearing full armor, including an opaque faceplate that made it impossible to know what was underneath.

  They ducked and dodged, not wanting to just stand there and take hits, but they did have more guns than her and had to keep them firing in order to take advantage of their numbers. Others didn’t think so tactically, firing a single shot then running for fear of getting hit like this was a game rather than a fight while leaving others to die with no cover. Esna mowed down as many as she could, sensing her ammo running low and whisking out a replacement cartridge from her belt as soon as she clicked an empty shot.