Planet: PUNO

System: FURIES

Sector: PROSPECT

Date: 30-JUN-2430

The pirate ship God's Rejects glides above Puno, its assembly of cylindrical and rectangular engines emitting a blue glow as it takes its course above the gas giant. Thick bands of bronze and burnt orange swirled hypnotically across the planet, the colors shifting and blending into one another. Orbiting Puno’s equator are rings of ice, dust, and rock, ranging from thick to thin, all glittering from the distant sun and the planet’s light.

The ship itself is a monstrosity. A Frankenstein's mashup of salvaged parts from numerous ships of all uses, from patrol ships to cargo crafts, passenger ships, and anything else that can travel through space. All parts are roughly welded together into a bulbous, oblong shape. Gun turrets, antennae arrays, and all manner of other protrusions bristled from every surface, giving the ship a hellish, stretched out sea urchin appearance. The crew of God’s Rejects hasn’t bothered painting the hull, choosing to let the patchwork of colors from their victims tell the story.

Running lights blink along the ship’s surface, and occasionally, ice chunks bounce off its deflector shields, vaporizing them in a brief flash of light and a puff of crystals.

The orange and bronze light from the planet shines through the tiny porthole of Arlie Barclaw Harrison’s cramped room, bathing his body and all the contents around him in its colors. His hands work fast to pack his belongings, and on his desk, a small square device is hooked to a terminal, copying every bit of data its 300-terabyte storage can hold.

His brown eyes flick to the device every few seconds, and his scarred hands rub the sweat off his tanned skin and sandy hair. His ears are also straining to hear anything beyond the clanking pipes and humming wires.

The device on his desk beeps, and Arlie quickly unplugs it, seals it in a metal case, and stuffs it in his backpack. Then he zips and locks his backpack.

Right as he finishes this, he hears heavy footsteps approaching his room. He slips on his backpack and turns to the door right as a blowtorch starts melting the lock.

Arlie takes a deep breath and flexes his fingers, and when the door is forced open, he smiles at the group of three men crowding in. Leading the group is a stocky man with rough brown hair and an unkept beard. His dark eyes are wide, and his face is red.

“Going somewhere, Arlie?” sneers the stocky man, Max Finch.

“I was going to go to the bathroom,” says Arlie.

“Oh, that’s funny.”

“It’s to take a shit. I can leave it floating in the bowl for you to look at when I’m done.”

“I’m not going to look at your shit. But I am going to beat the shit out of you.”

“So, you do want to look at my shit?”

“What?”

“Beating the shit out of me requires you looking at me while you and your pals pummel me so hard my bowels loosen. You’ll have no choice but to see that.”

“This is getting weird, Max. Can we just kill him?” says one of Max’s partners, a lanky guy with thick glasses named Jule.

Max holds up his hand. “No. The Captain wants to talk to him before we launch him to Puno, and we’re going to do that.”

The other partner, a muscular, apish man named Gortus, cracks his knuckles and grins. “I like it.”

“No, you’re not and you’re going to hate it if you try,” says Arlie.

“And why’s that?” asks Max.

“Because I don’t want to get launched in space. That sucks.”

Max scoffs. “I hate your guts, you know that.” He snaps his fingers at Gortus and Jule. “You two, breaks his arms and legs.”

Gortus and Jule rapidly approach Arlie, and he clenches his fists and coils his body.

Gortus lunges at Arlie, and he ducks under the blow and rams his elbow into Gortus' gut. As Gortus doubles over, gasping for air, Arlie grabs him by the hair and slams his face into the metal desk with a sickening crunch. Blood and teeth explode from Gortus' ruined mouth, and he crumbles to the floor, holding his destroyed mouth, screams muffled and blood pouring past his hands.

Jule swears, whips out a knife and slashes at Arlie.

Arlie leans back, the blade missing his skin by a hair. He traps Jule's knife arm and snaps the elbow joint backward with a quick, brutal twist. Jule shrieks as the knife clatters to the floor.

Keeping his grip on Jule's now useless arm, Arlie swings him headfirst into the metal wall. There's a loud crack as Jule's skull breaks against the wall, and he crumples in a heap, dark blood leaking from his head and spreading across the floor.

Gortus continues to cry and writhe on the ground, and Max stares slack-jawed at Arlie.

“Are you going to move or am I going to have to hurt you, too?” asks Arlie.

Max pulls out a pistol but Arlie dashes forward and tackles him to the ground. He twists Max’s hand, snapping bone and making him howl in agony, and Arlie twists the gun out of his grip and bashes his head with it, silencing him.

Arlie stands up, panting and wiping his hands on his pants. He clips Max’s holster to his belt, secures the pistol, and he runs down the hallway.

Soon after, alarms blare and red lights flash as a guttural voice speaks over the intercom.

“Attention crew! Find and capture Arlie Barclaw Harrison! Captain wants him alive!”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Arlie sprints down the narrow, dimly lit maze of corridors, his boots clanging against the metal grates. Shouts and footsteps echo behind him as more pirates join the pursuit.

He skids around a corner and nearly collides with two burly pirates wielding electrified batons, leading to all three to tumble on the floor. Both sides take a second to process what happened, and once it clicks, they scramble to their feet. The pirates turn on their batons, creating sharp arcs of electricity around their tips.

The first pirate attempts to jab Arlie, but he deflects and counters with a swift punch to their nose. That pirate stumbles back, clutching their nose, and Arlie grabs the second one’s arm when they swing and slams him into the first, crashing them into the metal wall.

The pirate kicks Arlie back, and Arlie snaps out his confiscated pistol and unloads on them. Two in the chest one in the head for both of them.

The loud bangs of the gunshots echo through the corridors as the pirates jerk and collapse, leaving a streaks and splatters of blood on the wall. Arlie doesn’t wait for them to full fall before he resumes running.

Alarms wail as Arlie navigates through the labyrinthine of God’s Rejects, and several minutes of running, evading, and beating up anyone that gets in his way takes him to a large cargo bay filled with crates, barrels, and fuel cells, and smaller ships parked in front of a hangar door.

A group of pirates spot him from a catwalk above and open fire with their rifles. Bullets ricochet off the containers in a storm of sparks and shrapnel.

Arlie dives behind a stack of crates, chips of metal and plastic exploding around him. He pokes his head out just enough to see fuel cells near the pirates shooting at him. The onslaught of bullets forces him back to cover, but after moving a few feet in the crouching position, he peeks out just long enough to shoot the fuel cells with the last of his bullets.

The fuel cells explode, sending the pirates flying off, engulfed in green flames and causing their platform to collapse. Their burning bodies crash against the floor as runs from his cover, and while he runs, another pirate drops down in front of him, wielding a large knife.

He slashes at Arlie, but the blow is parried with Arlie’s pistol. The pirate follows up with a kick to his ribs. Grunting, Arlie grabs the man's leg and whips his pistol against the pirate’s knee. Bones crack, the pirate howls in pain, and Arlie tosses him to the side.

The stench of burning flesh and metal sting Arlie’s nose as he runs to a control panel. He slams his fist on a large button. Warning lights flash as the cargo bay doors groan open, revealing the swirling clouds of Puno beyond the blue tinted shield.

Arlie sprints to the nearest vehicle: a small, agile craft shaped like an arrowhead, equipped with two turrets. But as he races towards it, a large hand grabs his shoulder and yanks him in the air.

Everything spins for Arlie as he twirls in the air, and the impact on the metal floor knocks the wind out of him. When he rolls to a stop, next to one of the burning bodies, he gasps and coughs for air.

Arlie casts a sidelong glance, his annoyance bubbling up as he spots another hulking figure. This one, however, is set apart by his cybernetic enhancements, specifically a robust mechanical cable drawing his robotic hand back to his arm. This is Kaber Kaan, the ship's infamous first mate. The man's olive skin is bulged with poor healing at the base of his enhancements, and his dark eyes have a faint glow to them as he marches towards Arlie.

“Captain changes his mind. We’re just going to kill you now, but not before I kick your ass first, you fucking rat,” says Kaber, his voice carrying an electronic rumble.

His mechanical arm whirs and clicks as he clenches his chrome fist, and Arlie hops to his feet, his eyes darting for an advantage. He notices a magnetic crane holding a shipping container above Kaber, but before he can act, Kaber’s cybernetic hand extends with lightning speed, closing the distance between them in an instant. His metal fingers clamp around Arlie's neck, making him gag and gasp for air.

Kaber yanks Arlie forward, slamming his knee into his gut. The air is brutally expelled from Arlie's lungs as he doubles over, gasping for breath. Kaber follows up with a brutal backhand, his chrome knuckles splitting Arlie's cheek and sending him reeling.

Arlie shakes his head to clear the stars from his vision. He tastes the coppery tang of blood in his mouth. Kaber kicks Arlie away and advances towards him as he staggers.

Kaber’s mechanical joints hiss with each step, and Arlie charges forward, ducking under Kaber’s swinging fist. He drives his shoulder into the cyborg's midsection, the impact doing nothing to help Arlie.

Kaber grabs Arlie by the back of his collar, lifts him into the air and hurls him across the hangar. Arlie slams into a stack of fuel cells, the metal containers toppling and rolling across the floor.

Kaber stomps towards Arlie, the hydraulics and gears whining in his legs. Arlie scrambles to his feet, snatching up a loose fuel line. As Kaber lunges at him, Arlie sidesteps and loops the line around the cyborg's neck. He wrenches it tight, the braided metal cable biting into Kaber's flesh.

Kaber roars, his voice distorted by static. He reaches back, trying to grab Arlie. Sparks cascade from his neck as the fuel line cuts into his cybernetic components.

Arlie braces his feet against Kaber’s back and pulls with all his might. The cable snaps taut, and the cyborg’s movements become jerky and uncoordinated.

With Kaber disoriented, Arlie releases the fuel line and darts towards the magnetic crane controls. He slams his hand on the release button, and the shipping container plummets downward.

Kaber looks up just as the massive metal box crashes on top of him with a loud thud.

A brief smirk stretches on Arlie’s face, and he sprints to the waiting spacecraft. Once inside, his fingers fly over the controls, the engines roaring to life. The hangar bay lights strobe red, but the blast doors begin to slide shut.

Arlie growls and pulls the trigger on the controls, leading to a spray of bullets tearing apart the shield generator and control mechanism on the door. Dual explosions rock the hangar, and the vacuum sucks out the door, debris and bodies, and drags Arlie’s vehicle, and numerous others, outside.

Once outside, Arlie hits the accelerator and swerves away from the tumbling vehicles, and his fingers rapidly tap the buttons on the navigation board, punching in random numbers until a full coordination is in place. Behind him, a small hourglass generator hums and glows a bright blue, with a crackling and tugging sensation taking over. Panels slide over the windows, Arlie grins and tightens his belt and grip on the controls, and then everything goes white.

****

On the bridge, Captain Zahir El-Amin sits in the command chair, which is high enough for his steely gray eyes to observe everyone on the bridge. A crescent of monitors sits in front of him, displaying what is on the monitors of the bridge crew, as well as reports of Federation ship activities, communications between other pirates, and information about The City of Clouds incident.

The captain is a muscular man, with a shaved head and a shaggy black beard streaked with silver, and the smokey and sweet scent clings to his body and former Federation navy uniform. The gray fabric no longer has the Federation of Sol Systems insignia; instead, stitched in its place is a patch depicting a burning planet.

Zahir’s lips are tight, and his eyes narrowed as he looks out the bridge window, watching the debris twirl in space and the remnants of Arlie’s jump fade away.

A navigator, a scrawny, pockmarked man with nervous eyes, looks at Zahir. “Captain, sir, Arlie jumped. The worm hole is too small for us to use. It’ll fade before our jump is ready."

Zahir breathes heavily through his nose, opens his jacket’s breast pocket and pulls out a wrapped cigar. As he unwraps, clips and lights it, the door to the bridge opens and Kaber lumbers in, body bloody and his enhancements scratched. He has a moment of hesitation to approach when Zahir waves him over.

“I'm done being nice. Put out the word - one billion fedos to the man who kills Arlie Barclaw Harrison and returns the files," says Zahir.

“Yes sir,” says Kaber.

“And Kaber.”

“Yes sir?”

“You’re going to be looking for Arlie, too.”

“Of course.”

Zahir spins the chair so he’s facing Kaber. He pulls his cigar out of his mouth and leans forward so they are eye to eye. Kaber’s eyes move away from his captain’s gaze, but reluctantly move back when Zahir snaps his fingers.

“Don't return without Arlie's head and those files,” says Zahir.

Kaber swallows and nods. “Yes sir.”

“Now get out of my sight.”

“Yes sir.”

Kaber hurries out, and Zahir turns back to look at Puno.

“Captain, what are your orders?” asks one of the navigators.

Zahir returns the cigar to his lips. “Make a random jump. This location is compromised.”