Read Online Star Viking (Extinction Wars Book 3) by Vaughn Heppner - Free Book Online
Authors: Vaughn Heppner
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the space lanes. Did they think of our artifact as easy pickings? I considered that likely. That meant they planned to swoop down and take it.
I had my reasons for stopping that at any cost. A few million humans among the vast hordes of interstellar space—we needed every advantage we could cobble together.
As I’ve said, originally, the Jelk Corporation planned to use us as slave-soldiers. Starkiens could just as likely attempt to make us zoo-slaves for others. Maybe a few extraterrestrials would even enjoy feasting on us as delicacies.
So far, we had one clear ability compared to the rest of the aliens. We assault troopers could outfight any other alien as infantry. The Jelk, the Lokhars and the Kargs had all learned the hard way what that meant. With a Forerunner object in our solar system, we now had claim to religious importance. If we lost the artifact, we would lose the protection the aura of having a relic granted us.
That meant our survival and freedom demanded we keep the object.
I left the bridge for some shuteye. Stretched out on my bed, I fell into a fitful slumber. A dream coalesced soon enough. I was in the Forerunner artifact again with N7—a former mining-android. Abaddon spoke to me via screen, showing me Jennifer hanging by her wrists, her toes an inch above the floor. He offered me a position in his evil hierarchy, telling me he’d give me Jennifer to boot.
In my dream, I shouted, asking for Jennifer’s forgiveness. She understood I had to do this, right.
“Creed!” she screamed. “Save me. I’m your woman. You can’t sacrifice me. You’re my man. You’re supposed to protect me.”
“Jennifer,” I whispered. “You have to understand.”
“No!” she howled, as Kargs applied torture devices to her flesh. “Creed, help me!”
My eyes flew open. I lay on my bed in the Aristotle . Sweat soaked my blanket and sheets.
I got up, drank water, ate a sandwich and donned my uniform. What else could I have done back there on the portal planet in hyperspace six and a half years ago? If I’d agreed to Abaddon’s deal, our universe would have faced a billion enemy starships and a trillion death-dealing Kargs. I’d done the right thing. Yet, if that was true, why did I feel like such a heel?
The intercom in my room buzzed.
Wearily, I went to it. “Yeah?” I asked.
“The Starkiens are almost here,” Ella said. “Their chief wants to speak to you.”
“I’m on my way,” I said.
***
Back on the bridge, I found myself staring at the Starkien commander, Baba Gobo. As N7 had once told me, Baba would be his name and Gobo was his rank. It meant lord of ships .
A regular Starkien was the size of a baboon and looked as furry and as ugly. Baba had two long canines at the end of his wrinkled muzzle, each of them a dirty yellow color. He must have weighed ninety pounds, sporting a big pouch with an obscene belly button, easily the heaviest Starkien I’d ever seen. He had a mane like a lion, although his was stark white. I knew it meant he was old, older than Naga Gobo, a Starkien I’d killed in the solar system many years ago. I wondered if this Gobo had known Naga.
Just as Naga had, Baba Gobo sat on a dais with raised controls around him. I knew the place stank because Starkiens did. When I’d met them in person before on a beamship, the chamber had smelled like a filthy zoo cage. Baba Gobo lacked clothes. Instead, he wore a harness around his body. His was devoid of weapons or tools, having scarlet streamers instead.
The Starkien on the main screen opened his baboon snout. “I would speak to him known as Creed-beast,” Baba said.
I doubted he knew English. We used translator devices to communicate.
Ella touched a switch, splitting the screen into two parts. One half showed the braking armada. Long tails of fusion thrust showed they applied energy. The shark-shaped vessels had crossed our star system in a hurry and now slowed down for a meeting. They also spewed out masses of star
I had my reasons for stopping that at any cost. A few million humans among the vast hordes of interstellar space—we needed every advantage we could cobble together.
As I’ve said, originally, the Jelk Corporation planned to use us as slave-soldiers. Starkiens could just as likely attempt to make us zoo-slaves for others. Maybe a few extraterrestrials would even enjoy feasting on us as delicacies.
So far, we had one clear ability compared to the rest of the aliens. We assault troopers could outfight any other alien as infantry. The Jelk, the Lokhars and the Kargs had all learned the hard way what that meant. With a Forerunner object in our solar system, we now had claim to religious importance. If we lost the artifact, we would lose the protection the aura of having a relic granted us.
That meant our survival and freedom demanded we keep the object.
I left the bridge for some shuteye. Stretched out on my bed, I fell into a fitful slumber. A dream coalesced soon enough. I was in the Forerunner artifact again with N7—a former mining-android. Abaddon spoke to me via screen, showing me Jennifer hanging by her wrists, her toes an inch above the floor. He offered me a position in his evil hierarchy, telling me he’d give me Jennifer to boot.
In my dream, I shouted, asking for Jennifer’s forgiveness. She understood I had to do this, right.
“Creed!” she screamed. “Save me. I’m your woman. You can’t sacrifice me. You’re my man. You’re supposed to protect me.”
“Jennifer,” I whispered. “You have to understand.”
“No!” she howled, as Kargs applied torture devices to her flesh. “Creed, help me!”
My eyes flew open. I lay on my bed in the Aristotle . Sweat soaked my blanket and sheets.
I got up, drank water, ate a sandwich and donned my uniform. What else could I have done back there on the portal planet in hyperspace six and a half years ago? If I’d agreed to Abaddon’s deal, our universe would have faced a billion enemy starships and a trillion death-dealing Kargs. I’d done the right thing. Yet, if that was true, why did I feel like such a heel?
The intercom in my room buzzed.
Wearily, I went to it. “Yeah?” I asked.
“The Starkiens are almost here,” Ella said. “Their chief wants to speak to you.”
“I’m on my way,” I said.
***
Back on the bridge, I found myself staring at the Starkien commander, Baba Gobo. As N7 had once told me, Baba would be his name and Gobo was his rank. It meant lord of ships .
A regular Starkien was the size of a baboon and looked as furry and as ugly. Baba had two long canines at the end of his wrinkled muzzle, each of them a dirty yellow color. He must have weighed ninety pounds, sporting a big pouch with an obscene belly button, easily the heaviest Starkien I’d ever seen. He had a mane like a lion, although his was stark white. I knew it meant he was old, older than Naga Gobo, a Starkien I’d killed in the solar system many years ago. I wondered if this Gobo had known Naga.
Just as Naga had, Baba Gobo sat on a dais with raised controls around him. I knew the place stank because Starkiens did. When I’d met them in person before on a beamship, the chamber had smelled like a filthy zoo cage. Baba Gobo lacked clothes. Instead, he wore a harness around his body. His was devoid of weapons or tools, having scarlet streamers instead.
The Starkien on the main screen opened his baboon snout. “I would speak to him known as Creed-beast,” Baba said.
I doubted he knew English. We used translator devices to communicate.
Ella touched a switch, splitting the screen into two parts. One half showed the braking armada. Long tails of fusion thrust showed they applied energy. The shark-shaped vessels had crossed our star system in a hurry and now slowed down for a meeting. They also spewed out masses of star
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