Fire Falcon Read online

  Contents

  FIRE FALCON

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  Chapter THREE

  Chapter FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Chapter Nine

  CHAPTER TEN

  Chapter ELEVEN

  Chapter TWELVE

  Chapter THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Chapter FIFTEEN

  Chapter SIXTEEN

  Chapter SEVENTEEN

  Chapter EIGHTEEN

  FIRE FALCON

  By Yvette Harris

  For Faith and Sophie

  Guard your heart above all else, for it is the source of life.

  Proverbs 4:23

  PROLOGUE

  From my hilltop vantage point looking over the bleak valley I watched the motionless body of my client face-up on the grey dirt, surrounded by a handful of Trathosan soldiers. A dark stain of blood was pooling in the dust where the blade had penetrated right through his chest.

  “Come on, get out of here,” I muttered to myself as the execution squad dawdled back towards their idling spaceship. I could tell his injury was severe. If I didn’t assist him within the next three minutes he would die, along with my reputation.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Hiding in a dimly lit private booth at my favourite watering hole, I was enjoying a couple of quiet drinks after a successful and rather lucrative mission. My finger absentmindedly rubbed the condensation on the side of the glass, a tiny bead of water pooling on my fingertip as I mulled over the day’s events. I snapped back to the present as tiny hairs on my arms stood to attention. I’m being watched. Scanning the room with suspicion I spotted a pair of dark eyes observing me from beneath a hooded cloak. Realising he had been seen, he ducked and weaved from his position next to the doorway and much to my irritation, slid onto a vacant seat at my table.

  “Can I help you?” I asked in the Galactic universal language, lacing my voice with an unfriendly edge, my brain digging up methods for getting rid of unwanted company. There were good reasons I sat in the shadows.

  “Atrana of Asvellah?” his low tone indicated he wasn’t just there to buy me a drink.

  I nodded, glaring with suspicion.

  “I am Vann of Trathosa,” he sat up slightly straighter, ignoring the shade I was throwing at him.

  “The Achisar? In this dive? Nice line, go try it on someone else,” I rolled my eyes dramatically.

  He turned his body away from the crowd and slid his hood slightly backwards, revealing his face. I tried to ignore the hint of adrenalin which danced around in my stomach. He looked different in real life than holograph press images I’d seen, but sure enough I was sitting with a prince. Luckily I didn’t fall to pieces in the presence of fame, and I definitely did not kowtow to royalty.

  “Yes, in this dive,” his mouth rested with a hint of a smirk on his lips, staring at me in mild amusement which annoyed me even more. “Your colleague told me I would find you here.”

  “My colleague?” I’ll kill them.

  “He said you are a specialist,” he said as he leaned across the table, shading his face again as a waitress cruised past.

  “He was probably just trying to get rid of you.”

  “Perhaps, but he seemed genuine enough. Your establishment has quite a reputation.”

  “I know. My friends and I like to keep a low profile, evidently we’re failing. Anyway, what do you want with my peasant self, Achisar Vann of Trathosa?”

  “Your protection. I need you to save my life. Tell me, how does one acquire your services, Atrana of Asvellah?”

  “The usual way.” My interest peaked, even more so when he dumped a bulging velvet bag onto the table, the muffled clink of coins audible above the noise of the bar. “What are you, a pirate?” I suppressed a snort of mocking laughter. “Who carries gold coins around with them? I knew you Trathosans were steeped in tradition, but this is archaic even for you guys.”

  He was slightly taken aback. “Your fee must be untraceable. The gold in this bag is worth far more than your rate, which I will double in whatever method of reimbursement you choose, if the job is successful.”

  “Fine,” I agreed, more out of curiosity than financial gain. “Monitoring is payable six months in advance. Missions billed upon completion, depending on location and requirement.”

  He pushed the velvet bag to me. “Please proceed.”

  There’d better be some chocolate money in there too. “Come with me then.” I slid out from the booth and sashayed awkwardly towards the door. I could almost feel his warm breath on my neck as he followed me.

  The loading ramp of my ship lowered as it sensed my approach, but a tiny flashing blue light warned me I wasn’t alone, my wrist comm sending a gentle vibration alert. “It’s OK, he’s with me,” I muttered, and the light changed to green. The onboard computer scanned my voice and face, and disengaged the security that would annihilate him at my word. The entry ramp closed behind us and I was shut inside the eerily silent fuselage with my unusual companion.

  I loved my ship, and although it wasn’t the shiniest of vessels, it served me well and would pain me to let it go one day. It had seen a few klicks before coming into my possession and of course I had travelled far through the system and patched up many clients in the hold. But having royalty on board suddenly made me self-conscious about the state of it. His presence highlighted every bit of oxidisation, decay and dated interior. The technology and commodities hidden behind panels and in drawers was absolutely current, as was my training, it was only the shell that was a bit ‘vintage’. Fortunately the Achisar was too polite to comment. Besides, he’s the one who sought me out. It’s not like I’m desperate for work.

  I unfolded the stretcher from the side where it was stowed. “Sit there.”

  He slid his hood back to reveal his trademark angular face with its flawless pale skin, high cheek bones and regal nose. Long, dark hair cascaded to his shoulders, flicking up at the end with a slight wave. On the wrong person that hairstyle could look greasy and rough, but his Highness wore it well. Clearly he had an excellent hairdresser on his planet. Beneath the humble olive cloak I caught a glimpse of some elaborate attire befitting a Prince. The base garment was made from tough woven fabric, plates of intricately engraved black metal armor and studded leather lay over the top in critical places, a flash of decorative blue suede here and there.

  “Fill this in and sign it,” I instructed, handing him a digital slate containing the standard terms and conditions. He didn’t even bother to read them before hitting the “accept” button. The tablet camera scanned his iris as he scribbled his signature across the screen with a graceful finger. I snapped on a pair of medical gloves and removed the tiny chip from its casing, scanned it with my wrist comm and loaded it into the insertion gun. Then came my favourite bit. I gripped my hand around his warm forearm to steady it, swabbed the patch of skin with an alcohol pad, and lined up the nozzle on the side of his hand between his little finger and wrist.

  “This will hurt.” I pulled the trigger to bury the tech under his skin. Surprisingly, and somewhat disappointingly, he didn’t even flinch. I had seen the toughest clients leap off their seat yelping in pain when that chip was embedded. Having experienced it for myself, I knew it hurt more than a Pysan wasp sting. I kept hold of his arm and firmly pressed the insertion area with my thumb to help dull the pain. As I glanced up at his face, I was caught directly in his dark green eyes which studied me with curiosity. Sad eyes that belonged to a man with a heavy burden, clouded with worry and tinged with pain. Not my problem, I thought as I cleaned the trickle of blood away with a cotton swab and applied a clear liquid dressin
g. He’s probably only staring because he hasn’t been this close to a peasant before.

  “We’re all done.” I ripped the gloves off my hands and felt the corners of my mouth soften into the prequel of a smile. “If you need my services, bash that part of your hand three times on a solid surface and it will activate the tracker. I will find you, no matter where you are in the galaxy.”

  “And if you are otherwise engaged when I need you?”

  “If I’m on a job my alert is forwarded to one of my associates. They are equally skilled and just as discreet.”

  “I hope it’s you,” he said with a gentle smile, his eyelids lowering as he gave me a long look. His arrogance seemed to have diminished now but the pride and good manners of his breeding remained. “Oh, one more thing,” he added. “If I summon you, it is imperative that you remain unseen. I can’t stress this enough. No matter what happens, even if I am in grave danger, you must not interfere until I am alone.”

  “As you wish.” I lowered the ramp of the ship as he pulled the hood over his head.

  “Well, that was weird,” I muttered to myself as he marched out into the night.

  CHAPTER TWO

  It was nearly three months before I heard from Vann again. I had hardly spared a thought for him, as my other missions kept me well occupied. But now and then, news of his planet would come through the galactic wire and I was reminded of our strange encounter.

  The Kingdom of Trathosa was located on a massive supercontinent in an ocean planet rich in one natural resource –solar crystals used to power nearly every hypertravel ship in the galaxy. But over the last few months, a serious internal conflict had arisen in Achisar’s world. Details were sketchy, but from what I’d gathered, it involved a military-led coup against the royal family. That was probably why he’d hired me.

  The client tracker emergency alarm buzzed and flashed as I was relaxing on the sofa in my apartment, listening to my latest acquisition – a vintage vinyl LP from Earth, the planet I shared half my blood with. Jolted into action, I ran to the bedroom to gear up, nearly falling on my face as I stripped out of my stretchy old lounge pants. I ripped the synthetic protective suit from its hanger in the wardrobe and wriggled into it, clipped the weapons belt around my hips, and yanked my rocket boots up over my calves. Now dressed, I leapt into the anti-gravity descent tube which would deposit me straight into the hangar.

  The first time I had used that form of elevator it had taken me a couple of minutes to pluck up the courage, in spite of multiple demonstrations from my long-suffering housemate, Sten. It just didn’t feel natural to step into thin air and feel the weightlessness of zero gravity as it gently, but swiftly lowered my body down a level by some strange invisible force. But, like so many things I’d had to do in my life, I sucked it up and embraced the rush of adrenalin as it was the quickest way to ascend from my room to my ship. Of course if I wasn’t in a rush, I could always just take the stairs.

  Triggered by the emergency call, the engines were already humming, rear access ramp wide open and nose pointing towards the retracted hangar doors, ready for a quick launch. The equipment on board was well stocked, weapons primed and ready, fuel cells fully charged. All I needed to do was strap in and set the jump for Searna II, which was where the distress call had originated. What the hell is he doing out there? That planet is nothing but rocks.

  I secured my harness and gripped the controls of my vessel – throttle in my left hand, steering yoke in my right. I swiped the levitation activator and the anti-gravity drive released the weight of the ship, the skids retracting into its belly. A familiar fluttering sensation leapt through my core, my breath quickened with excitement, adrenalin rising. But my face remained devoid of any expression – something I had practiced for years, the ‘deadpan look’.

  At my command, the ship smoothly levitated and slowly propelled forwards until it was out of the building and suspended high above the valley. Being an older ship with dual crystal and combustible fuel sources, I had to make sure it was clear of the building before blasting off so that the thrusters wouldn’t shatter windows or leave scorch marks on the hangar walls. I particularly did not want to incinerate my mechanic friend, Kalmin, if he happened to be standing there.

  I allowed a smile to creep onto my lips as I engaged the boosters and pushed the throttle forward to maximum. There was a brief pause then the ship violently shot forwards, G-force pinning me back in my seat like a giant hand. I was nearly powerless to move as the craft juddered and arced from horizontal to vertical, accelerating upwards through the misty blanket of cloud and into the clear troposphere beyond. It took about fifteen seconds for light to give way to the beautiful star-pricked blackness of space. The ship stopped shaking and gravity released me from its grip, the force lifting from my body. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to appreciate the sensation, or the view. The second the ship hit the exosphere, I space jumped to Searna II.

  The mesosphere of my destination was thin to break through, but I still experienced rough shaking as my ship penetrated the sky of the dimly lit, cold planet. Below me and a few klicks over was the area of deadscape where Vann had triggered his tracker. Remembering his instructions to keep out of sight, I switched on the cloaking shield and flew low over the desert until I spotted royal Trathosan military aircraft parked on the dirty orange sand in the distance. I hovered and zoomed my radar on the ship’s monitors, striving to get a better look. I counted five figures trudging from the craft – the tall, flicky-haired silhouette of my client, accompanied by four guards in full armour, brandishing weapons. Even with the cloaking, I couldn’t risk getting any closer as the noise of the engine would alert them to my presence, so I landed on the leeward side of a sloping cliff high above, a safe enough distance that they would not see the disturbed dust. I pulled on my sleek black helmet, zipped my thick jacket and snapped on my gloves, ready to face the harsh elements outside. As the rear exit ramp lowered with a soft whirr, I braced myself against a strong gust of wind as it flung a handful of dark grey dirt at me, as if I’d been attacked by a wayward child in a sandpit. I hunched low and staggered down to the gritty ground, starting my ascent up the steep cliff to find a good vantage point. Once at the top of the ridge, I lay down and set the visor of my helmet to zoomed-in view of the action below.

  The squad came to a halt a few metres away from their vessel, the fabric of their uniforms whipping around them like tattered flags in the wind. My client’s hands were cuffed behind his back, head hung low in submission. A mere shadow of the proud royal I had met previously. My adrenalin started to rise, my breath becoming quicker and shallow. Usually, I would hurl myself into the thick of the action to fight beside him, but I had been instructed not to intervene, no matter what happened.

  The Achisar attempted one last struggle, knocking over one guard with a shoulder-barge and landing a well-placed boot onto the chest of another, setting him on his arse. I smiled. He still has a bit of fight left in him. But his captors wrestled him back into control. Two guards grabbed his arms, a third kicked his feet out from under him, forcing him to his knees. The ominous leader drew a long metal blade out of its scabbard, glinting with menace in the insipid light. He ceremoniously turned it over in his hands, his lips moving in what appeared to be a chant. After what felt like an eternity, the executioner reached out and plunged the deadly weapon through the Achisar’s chest until the tip of the bloodied blade protruded out his back. I gasped, “No!”, and turned away in horror. No matter how much violence I had been exposed to in my past, it was still excruciating to witness. Why did I hide myself? I could have taken them all out with my sniper laser. He didn’t tell me this would be a body-retrieval mission.

  My client collapsed face-first into the dust as the executioner yanked his blade out, pivoted on his heels and marched back to the ship, guards close behind. As the last guard walked past the lifeless body, he paused and gave Vann a swift kick to the head. Monster.

  As soon as their craft ascended the
low cloud cover, disappearing from sight, it was time to get to work and save what was left of his life. I ran back to my ship and took off straight over the ridge, landing next to him. Before the engines had even diminished, I was jumping off the half-opened ramp onto the gritty terrain of Searna II, medi-pack in hand. Kneeling next to him, I ripped off my thick protective gloves and replaced them with barrier membranes, ignoring the biting cold as it slapped my skin.

  I unzipped the medi-kit, grabbed my scanner and ran it over his torso to check for vitals, exhaling as I inspected the readings. He’s alive – just. I grabbed a pair of scissors to cut away the remnants of his blood-soaked shirt, exposing his chest so I could inspect the dark red stab wound. Remarkable. Although it had the appearance of a death blow, the stab had missed his heart by a hair’s breadth.

  I placed the auto-defibrillator on his chest and an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose, then took a large syringe from my kit and inserted the tip into his chest cavity. I needed to extract the air that was accumulating outside his lung which was causing collapse. His breathing was still shallow and ragged, the veins on his neck distended, which meant he probably had a fluid buildup in the sac surrounding his heart. Using the same syringe, I carefully drew the yellow-tinged liquid out of his chest to ease the pressure. To my relief, his veins returned to normal and his breathing stabilised.

  Now it was time to release the liquid nanotech that would knit him back together and ultimately save his life. I removed the expensive vial from its case, unscrewed the cap and squeezed the black metallic substance into his wound, watching with fascination as tiny droplets formed and disappeared entirely. The microscopic robots that were suspended in the healing serum would repair damage from the inside out, stem any bleeding and seal the entry and exit wounds. I did a quick calculation of how much this tiny tube of liquid had cost me from my back-alley supplier. You’d better live, your highness, you owe me big time for this shit.