Page 3 of Guardian's Legacy
I dipped the screwdriver's tip into the dark pool of alien blood, praying it was conductive. If this had been Earth, I’d expect grease to catch fire. To conduct heat. Maybe spark just enough to blow a fuel line if you were stupid or desperate. I was both.
"Please," I whispered. "Please let alien grease act like Earth grease. Please let alien physics work like Earth physics."
I struck the screwdriver against the metal. Once. Twice. And then: Spark.
The blood sizzled. The collar on the injured alien’s neck started blinking red. Faster. Shriller. My stomach dropped. It was working! With no time to waste, I turned and ran, grabbing Ava. I had no idea how big of an explosion there would be, or if there would even be one, but I wasn't about to be caught in the middle.
Behind me, the collar detonated. The blast rocked the crater, tossing debris and body parts into the air. It was a lot less than I had anticipated, but smoke followed. Screams. Cryons, shouting orders, came running from all sides. A security siren shrieked through the compound. The chaos was perfect.
"That's it, let's go!" I shouted at Ava, but she was rooted to the ground, staring wide-eyed straight ahead.
While I was busy creating the little detonation, another spaceship had landed. The chaos was so complete that the Cryons hadn't even noticed it or the silver-skinned alien disembarking from it.
Part of my brain screamed at me to run, to go, go, go! But something stopped me. I had no idea who this new alien was, friend or foe. No idea at all, and yet, just like Ava, I stood rooted to the spot, unable to move as the fine hairs on the back of my neck stood up. As impossible as it sounded, the stranger seemed familiar to me. Not only that, but without any reason to think so, I knew, with absolute certainty and without a shadow of a doubt, that he was here to rescue me. Us.
XYREK
A sudden explosiondistracted the Cryons long enough for me to disembark my ship on this gods-forsaken mining planet at the edge of the universe. Here, the Cryons mined ore with slaves collected from all corners of all known galaxies. Only the most brutal and ruthless survived. I had been to planets like this thrice before. Once to free a Hettita who had been abducted from a family wealthy enough to hire a Space Guardian, and twice to find a criminal. Although, in regards to the criminals, I didn't understand why my bosses, the Ohrurs, bothered with it. To me, being on a planet like this was punishment enough. Most of the surviving slaves here were Pronex; their ruthless nature guaranteed their survival, at least longer than the average slave. There always was one younger, stronger, and more cunning to take out the other species of longer-surviving forced laborers. I did see others, though, a few Pandraxians, Melvars, and even some Khatars. Khatars weren't very smart, but they were highly sought-after fighters. Their clubbed tails were deadly, and they didn't have the sense to stop when they went into a rage, no matter the foreseeable consequences. Some believed they were like dimwitted animals, fearless in the face of death because they didn't understand the outcome of losing.
The only explanation I could come up with for why the Cryons had brought humans here was that they were using them as a distraction, stopping the stronger ones from killing each other for the time being. This made a twisted sort of sense if all you cared about was the bottom line.
None of this mattered to me, just as it didn't matter what the explosion was or who created it. My bottom line was that it brought all the Cryons running, making my job of dispatching them much easier. By the time they realized I was in their midst, killing them indiscriminately, it was almost over.
The Pronex were already banding together to attack me. I kept them back by shooting a few, but it wouldn't be long before the lure of taking my ship and getting out of here became too tantalizing to be held back by fear of me or my blasters. "Humans! I came to rescue you. Get on my ship if you want to live. Now!" I yelled, keeping my blasters trained on the Pronex and a few of the other more aggressive slaves.
I fired a few more rounds at the more daring slaves until I was sure all the humans had followed my invitation, then I backed up on the ramp while more Pronex advanced. Through my comm, I ordered the ship to disperse a blast from one of the pulse cannons to throw the Pronex back long enough for me to enter the cargo hold and close the hatch.
Countless human eyes stared at me, the reddish blinks of their collars reflected in their gaze, and I sighed to myself because I would have to take them all off and toss them out before we could take off.
"Thank you. Thank you, whoever you are," a human male approached me. "I'm Tom, the leader of this group."
I observed the humans—filthy, exhausted, bruised, and clinging to one another. They stared at me with a mix of hope and fear. I huffed. I wasn't a talkative person at the best of times, and this? This didn’t even come close to qualifying as anotbest time. Hundreds of humans stared at me like I had answers. Like I was a damn welcome committee for intergalactic trauma. But I had to say something, didn't I?
I got the tool out to deactivate and take off their collars while giving what I hoped was a heartwarming speech: “I am a Space Guardian. My name is Xyrek, and you are now under my protection. I am taking you to a planet called Astrionis, where Lord Protector Garth and Lady Silla are establishing a human colony. It will be safe, and you will have everything you need. There, you can build your new lives.”
They still stared at me, waiting. I had no idea what for. I added, “Until then, you'll follow my orders. You won't interfere with operations. You will not touch what is not yours. You will speak only when addressed, and you will obey immediately. Your cooperation is mandatory. Noncompliance will not be tolerated.”
I paused. The silence stretched. One woman sobbed into her hands. A man blinked at me as if I’d just declared myself a god. I took another deep breath to say something else, but since I didn't know what, I closed my mouth and began taking collars off. I noticed a woman watching me with interest and waved her over. "Here, this is how it's done." I took hers off, then showed her how to do it on another human. "Good. Take them all off and toss them in there," I showed her the incinerator.
Something in her green eyes intrigued me, but the urge to get out of the cargo hold and rush to the bridge was stronger. It wasn't until I reached my destination that I took a deep breath. I was convinced this would be one of my only places of refuge over the next few weeks.
* * *
It turned out I was right. With my cargo bay filled with over two hundred humans, I only had the bridge and my quarters to myself. Inevitably, whenever I walked from one room to the other, I ran into them. They were always there. Everywhere. A constant coming and going, giving me a headache before the doors even opened. Several GTU days had passed, and it wasn’t getting any better.
I contemplated sleeping on the bridge tonight—it wouldn't have been the first time since I burdened myself with these refugees. Well, technically,Ididn't burden myself with them. My minder, Possedion, did thatforme. As a Space Guardian, I went where the Ohrurs told me to go and did what the Ohrurs told me to do. For years, I had been happy to do their bidding. My job had fulfilled me. I got to hunt down the scum of the universe and terminate it. My ability to read other people's auras allowed me to catch a glimpse of my prey's true evilness. Ridding the universe of them was more of a gift to me than a job.
But lately, I was beginning to question it. Not the job so much, as it was still fulfilling, but my part in the universe. My life. My work for the Ohrurs. It started innocently enough. I had woken up bathed in sweat from the most terrifying but beautiful dream I had ever had. I was out of breath, and my head was pounding as if I had run for days without water. The dream returned a few months later and soon became more frequent. Now, it came every night.
In the dream, I was running through a forest so beautiful and familiar that it unlocked a yearning in me that didn't let go even when I was awake. The longing became so strong that I caught myself dreaming about it during the day.
With the ache, a plan began to take shape in my head. Twenty-five years ago, I went to work for the Ohrurs. I figured five more, and I could probably cash in on the credits the Ohrurs had been putting away for me all these years. I would be well set to go and do as I pleased. Thanks to my dreams, I had an idea of where I wanted to go; I just had to find that place.
A few months ago, I began to search the databases for suitable planets. The list of candidates was growing, but none of the places looked like the one from my dreams. Over time, my restlessness to find that place had grown into a desire I found harder to fight with every passing day. The place from my dreams called to me like a mother to a long-lost son.
That wasn't all of it, though. More than the dream tortured me. Questions I couldn’t answer. Like that analogy,like a mother to a long-lost son.Mother? Son? I must have had a mother, but I’d never thought about it before. Once I did, an avalanche of uncertainty enveloped me. Who was my mother? My father? Where the frygg did I come from? I didn't remember anything of my life other than the past twenty-five years. That was impossible, though. I couldn't have just woken up one day at the age of twenty—or however old I had been—and decided to start working for the Ohrurs. I knew my abilities; I had to have learned them somewhere.
All I had was a foggy memory of a training facility and other males who looked like me, but I didn't know any of their names or how long I had been there. It was mind scrambling. So much so that whenever my brain searched for answers, my head began to hurt. The more I dug, the greater the pain.
