The Hunt Begins

There's more than one hunter at play putting more pressure on our pair making escape seem much more difficult.

                                        

               Agent Santiago. Seattle, Washington. 15 Minutes after the escape.

 

               His head throbs with pain that comes with every heartbeat, the paramedic he saw said that he’d received a mild concussion but nothing else to severe. They said that him being unconscious was actually a blessing since the Humvee landed on his side. His limp body was able to flow with all of the G-forces inflicted on him instead of snapping him like a pencil. The soldier beside him wasn’t so lucky, when he came to he’d been dragged out the wreck and laid beside the soldier.

             

  He was ugly and hard to look at, he was drenched in his blood spewing more out in a violent cough. “A Punctured lung” is what someone in the crowd that had gathered to aid the injured man said. Santiago watched as the prodded him it tubes forcing air into the man’s lungs, all the while the soldier’s face wrinkled and contorted. Then Santiago saw the real causes of the man’s pain. He had a compound fracture, two in fact, the bones had stabbed their way out of his flesh shining a deep red and purple as the flashing lights reflected off of them.

               

One bone protruded just below the right wrist dripped endlessly of the man’s blood, the other had pierced his right shin. The shin was the nastier of the two broken bones, when the bone broke it tore through his flesh scooping some out with it. The man’s groans continued all the way to the ambulance where the paramedics loaded injured soldier while still doing their best to ease the man’s suffering. One of them stayed behind to check up on himself, despite his best efforts to bat them away.

“Sir.” A soldier addresses him.  The agent turns to see a dark-skinned woman in army standard army uniform.  He checks her shoulder acknowledging her rank as sergeant; she presents the best opportunity to get rid of the pesky paramedic, so he happily starts up a conversation with her.

“What the situation sergeant? Has the asset been apprehended?”

“Negative, sir. Our people are doing another sweep of the brewery, but there’s no sign of them.”

“They didn’t just disappear sergeant, now I want that building swept once more as clean as possible. They couldn’t have gotten that far.”

“Yes sir. Hold on,” She puts her hand up to her earphone as a message comes in, Santiago meanwhile taps his thigh impatiently yearning to know the new update.

“Sir, my team suspects that they might have escaped through an old drainage pipe.”

“Good work sergeant, I want you and your team to track them down immediately, we can’t afford to let them escape.”

“But Sir, from what my team told me the drainage pipe appears to be very old and may have been part of Seattle’s old sewage system. For all we know they can be anywhere in the city.”

“Don’t worry yourself over those details, I’ll send in other teams after you. Right now, all I want is someone on their tail, is that clear sergeant?” he says with the same piercing gaze he’d given the alien.

The sergeant gave the agent a salute and proceeds to the build giving her crew their orders. He rubs his chin sighing. “How am I going to explain this mess.” The agent mutters under his breath. His boss is going to have his head for this, a first contact encounter turned into a bloody muck such as this. It doesn’t help that he’d already made the mistake of aiding the Taliban when his department had been fooled into believing they were Kurdish militia earlier in his career. And that was because of the simple fact that there wasn’t a thorough background check on who they were delivering the weapons to.

               

It was that mistake that got him into the situation he’s in now. They couldn’t fire him because of the connections he had with Congress, but they tried their best to humiliate him. By assigning him to supervise the Post-Detection Task group, which was their blunt way of saying ‘your services are no longer needed’. His new job is to basically prep for an encounter with extraterrestrial life, and the odds of an actual encounter were very slim. “Not slim enough.” He thought to himself. To make matters worse the incident has gone public due to a fight over airspace with some stunt pilots for a local festival.

               

A soothing vibration buzzes against his thigh, he knows who was calling him and really doesn’t want to answer. Though the backlash from not answering probably be worse than another demotion. Clearing his throat Santiago digs into his pocket pulling out a phone with a thick black case around it. The screen had a long crack that carved the length of it forking off in the center. He was amazed the phone was in working condition considering what it just went through. After a swipe he places the phone to his ear, “Hello Jake.”

“…Hello? Is that all you have to say for yourself after what you just did! Do you know how this gonna reflect upon not just upon the bureau, not even our nation, but our entire species as a whole!” an older man with a solid assertive responds.

“Jake if you’d just listen I can explain myself.” 

“Oh, by all means explain how you not only lost humanity’s first extraterrestrial contact, but also caused millions of dollars in tax payers money. And let’s certainly not forget to what happen to poor Corporal. Andrews, killed by a stray bullet to the back of the head. Why was there a stray bullet fired anyway, hmm?”  Jake questions, his assessment turning Santiago’s day all that more sour.

“Jake what happened was…”

“And you will address me with the title I’ve earned Mr. Santiago!” the old voice command.

“Colonel, Sir, the alien was becoming uncooperative and measures needed to be taken to ensure that the integrity of the operation stayed secured.” He replies knowing that this explanation was going to receive some flak.

“And how well did that go?” the Colonel condescends.

“Poorly, by the outcome of all this. I was knocked unconscious when I tried to give the alien a sedative, which I assume caused a scuffle in the cab of the Humvee where Corporal. Andrews ended up being shot. The alien is clearly more resilient than us and was able to drag not only itself, but a six-foot six-inch young man out of the wreckage as well. They managed to escape using an old drainage pipe in the Rainer Brewery. I currently have sent a team in to retrieve the two, but I’ve been told this city’s old sewage system is a labyrinth.” The agent explains attempting to downplay the whole incident.

“Hmm, and what of the boy, what’s his name…”

“Richard Armand Marois the third. Age 16, weight 260lbs, lives at the address…”

“I could look those details up myself, what of him is he aiding the alien in its escape?”

“Possibly, he may not be entirely willing though. The device implanted into his head is a translation device, but comes packing with a bomb that’ll go off if he strays too far from the alien. The alien told me the device isn’t easy to make so they ensure that they aren’t stolen by such means.” Santiago explains Richard’s role.

“Hmm, poor boy. Can’t blame him for wanting to live I suppose, but we need that alien alive by any means necessary. Worst case scenario if we have to eliminate him we use a cover up story saying that the alien killed him.” The Colonel continues.

“I understand sir, and what if we are able to rescuer them, but the device in his head is unable to be removed? What do we tell his family?” Santiago questions.

“We don’t tell them anything about the investigation, just tell them we need to keep him secured for national security. Now you are going to report to me once any further updates of the situation come up. I expect a detailed report from you Santiago, understood?” the Colonel angrily says demanding an answer.

“Yes, Colonel. I’ll contact you as soon as possible, Santiago out.” Santiago complies ending the call.

               

Letting out a heavy sigh he gets up rubbing his hand through his hair, dust fleeing from each strand they’d been attached to. Now he has to arrange multiple road closures and set multiple police checkpoints telling them to be on high alert. 

“What a pain the neck.”  He mutters again. And all of this was due to a surprisingly cunning alien and a teenager. He thought about the size and look of Richard to that of an average teen, Richard looked a bit more mature than most with his built and facial hair. It’d be best if he set the description as young adult male rather than teenager so some other kid doesn’t get detained.

               

Of course, he probably be easy to spot with him being handcuffed to a blue alien who is just as tall as he is. Thinking that calms his nerves making him think that maybe this could be the way to get him back up in the ranks. Until then he needs to take as many measures as possible to ensure that the two are apprehended.

  ______________________________________________

                 Solar system, just outside the orbit of Pluto

A wormhole forces its way into this new system for the second time in its history, but this time with a much more impressive reveal. Gliding out of Slip-Space was once the product of Alyuan engineering, now only a tattered ship with scars glides into the system. The scars are now bulges the gave the ship a sickly presence as if it has horrendous burn scars scattered along the length of its body. Black patches that had failed to burn through the hull branded themselves as reminders that even giants fall.

               

In the belly of the ship the Renueins waddle their way around in the hundreds getting comfortable with their new surroundings. Some were still celebrating their victory over the Alyuan overlords by drinking, feasting, singing, and all other manner of fun. This is all just a ruse to keep them all from wondering why they were in pursuit of one lone Alyuan. The only one on the ship who knew the real motives is sitting at the Captain’s helm and she intends to keep that information to herself.

               

Daemon looks at the screen in front of her to see where they have ended up. Obviously, it was uncharted territory by any species considering that it wasn’t on the Alyuan star map. The system they’re in isn’t all that impressive, there are a few gas planets that could contain some gasses that would fetch a fair price on the market but not much else. There is an asteroid belt that they would have to maneuver through before getting to the real prizes that orbit near the star of the system. These planets were made of rock and could hold some metal that they could either sell or use to upgrade their ships armor. Two of these planets were too close to the sun and would require specialized thermal suits to explore their surfaces. The third planet looked completely habitable covered mostly in water with more than enough land mass for her people. It was also probably the planet that the Alyuan has escaped to.  But her greatest interest in this system is the fourth planet from the star, a mere red dust ball to some, but to her so much more.

               

With the combination of the third planet it could be a whole new chance to give her people not just a home but a chance at an empire. From what she could read from the Alyuan indicators, the planet has lost its atmosphere because it lacks a magnetic field. Now solar winds punish the planet forcing its water to recede to its polar caps leaving the land dry and barren. It would be costly but if she could buy or perhaps steal one of those devices used propel a magnetic field she could transform the planet. It’s hopeful thinking but in the mean time she needs to finish the job she started. “What do the scans of the planets say?”

“The scans of three of the four planets read negative, no signs of any lifeforms on them.” one of her lackeys answers.

“Hmm, and of the third planet?”

“There is a confirmed distress signal of Alyuan origin coming from the planet. It’s coming from a beacon that was shot from the escape pod once it entered orbit. But Ship Mistress, the may be a problem.”

“What is it now?” Daemon claws scratch the helms’ innards in irritation

“Our scans have also picked up numerous lifeforms living in the planet, including a few stations that are in orbit. I believe we are encountering a planet with an intelligent species.”

“Is there significant traffic going in and out of the planet?” She growls.

“No, there is actually no traffic leaving the planet, there is however multiple aircraft moving within orbit.”

               

Hearing this, Daemon’s annoyance went away realizing there isn’t much to fear. The species of this planet are bound to it and are incapable of any sort of pursuit. She understood that if she was careful she and her crew could slip in and grab the Alyuan and be out before they could do anything to stop them. Of course, there goes her plan of starting an empire here, or at least one that would dominate this whole system. She thought maybe she could do to the species living on the planet what Alyuans do to other species that get in there way. Subjecting them would be a lot of work however, perhaps with some hit and run attacks on the planet would weaken them so that the species wouldn’t stand a chance in an all out war. All she’d need would be enough of her kind willing to follow her, and that shouldn’t be too hard after her victory over the Alyuans spreads. Shaking her head and growling at herself for letting her mind wander again, she needs to focus on the here and now.

“Send out some probes to get a thorough look to what we are up against. And have them retrieve that beacon when they return.” The last thing that they need is for the Alyuan fleet to pick up the signal.

“It shall be done Ship Mistress. Should I tell the crew to report to the stations?” a Renueins crewmen responds.

“No, let them have their fun. This is a victory that should be celebrated, but send in some security to ensure that no one goes overboard. They need to be sober when we see what the probes reveal what type of aliens we’re up against. We don’t want a few drunkards to give up our element of surprise by firing a few stray rounds. Speaking of which what is the current state of this ship’s weaponry?”

“Two of the missile silos are jammed in both port and starboard sides and still need repairing. We were able to fix three of the plasma cannons, but three of them were beyond repair and have been scrapped leaving us with six cannons in total. Only one of the gauss cannons wasn’t obliterated and is still under repair, but unfortunately the ship’s heavy laser need parts that are unavailable at the moment it is of no use.”  The reptile reports.

“It will have to due for now. In the meantime, activate the ship’s stealth system and set a coarse to the fourth planet’s largest moon. Land on the dark side we don’t want to risk these aliens spotting us before we get the information the probes retrieve. Do you understand?”  Daemon orders

“Understood, when the probes return what will be our next move?”

“I don’t pay you to plan that far, just get us to that moon and leave the thinking to me!” She snarls.

          ______________________________________________

                          Some where in Alyuan controlled space

               

A fleet of Alyuan ships sit in empty space every one of them lined up in coordinated positions ready to make the jump to Slip-Space. They are lined up where smaller corvette s make I the outer rim of the fleet, next are the small frigates that are roughly the same size as the corvettes, but they are armed much better. Next the heavy frigates whose size dwarfed the other two classes ships combined and are the most numerous of the fleet. These ships housed armies within them and was capable of tackling a variety of foes. And in the center, was the capital ship three times as large and the heavy frigates and could even house a dozens of corvettes and light frigates.

The capital ship’s name is, Alyu’s pride, and was named more as an honor to the Alyuan goddess rather than the planet itself. Several of the corvettes and light frigates are adorn with images of her divine works. According to Alyuan legend the goddess had created the Alyuan home world by dragging bits and pieces of their system together, she had molded an asteroid into the finest sphere while collecting water from the comets that would come to gaze upon her beauty creating the mighty bodies of water on Alyu. The sun was a mark that was left where she stood creating the planet, a gift given to the planet to grow the life she wanted. And throughout the countless species she made, they all seemed cold to her because she could not connect to her creations. So, over the course of many millennia bit by bit she focused on one species in order to craft it into her greatest masterpiece, one so great that it would stretch it greatness throughout the galaxy. 

Within the Command Center of the ship named after the goddess, a meeting is going over between the Lord Admiral known as Starlot and one of his subordinates. There are only four Alyuans in the room, the business that they were about to discuss requires discretion.

“So, Commander Syrx, tell me again how you lost the ship.” The Lord Admiral sits at the helm his head resting on his fist.

“As I said before Lord Admiral, we had the ship in communication range before they made a random jump. From what we received from their communications they were attacked by numerous smaller vessels.” The commander answers.

“Hmm…. And do you know what beings were responsible for the attack?”

“From the few descriptions we received they were ships from various species, many having what appeared to be custom upgrades to them. From what our intelligence received they all bared similar makings, that of the infamous Renuein known as Daemon.”

“Is that the one who has those fools in the Galactic Union cowering?”

“Yes, my liege, she has gathered many of her own to raid both the union and our own trade vessels. And our intelligence relays that she has a small fleet of stolen vessels.”

               

Starlot looks at the officer, his look unwavering, his head still resting on his fist giving him a bored appearance. An uncomfortable silence fill the room as quiet as space itself.  Syrx carries a worried expression as the silence grows longer and longer, he knows that the Admiral is just thinking of a form of punishment. The Commander’s mind fills with the rumors of what happened to those who failed to meet the Admiral’s expectations.

               

One rumor has it that a company leader had refused to attack an armored bunker in the campaign to annex the planet Requex-IX. The company commander claimed that they were being used as cannon fodder while a more enforced attack was to follow on a later date. The truth was that the bunker was already distracted by a heavy armored-air offensive in the opposite direction giving the battalion a moment to storm the bunker. However, due to the lack of infantry in the assault, it took much longer than anticipated to capture it from the natives.

Admiral Starlot, a mere general at the time, delivered a fierce berating to the company commander saying that he was a waste of flesh and blood, and that because of his cowardice he got many more Alyuan killed than there should’ve been. As a result, when the commander’s unit left the city he was intentionally left behind. And if rumors were true the natives were already tearing him apart before their transport ship had even left atmosphere.  Another rumor was that he shot a drunken officer point blank for spilling some of his drink onto his boots.

               

Yet despite all these rumors he is loved and admired by all in the fleet and by many in the empire. He was there in many of the harshest campaigns leading the Alyuan armies to glory accumulating many victories at little costs in the name of the empire. His troops though, had the greatest respect for him because, unlike many high-ranking officers and leaders, Starlot would be on the ground participating in the battles alongside his men. Many of his superiors thought that he was a fool and was a risk to campaigns, after all if he were to be captured and interrogated he could betray many Alyuan secrets. Some went as far as to express their concerns to the emperor, but Starlot was so loved by his men that it would crush moral to do anything to him. And as word of his deeds reached back to the public he was portrayed as a hero and the embodiment of a true Alyuan warrior. His status seemed to be as high as the emperor’s which eventually led to him being at the status he is at now.

It is the highest rank an Alyuan could reach in the military, but it is a two-sided gift. One may see that he now has the empire’s legion at his control, but at the same time there is no higher rank he could attain through the glory he would win with this tittle. And with all these forces under his command there is no way that he could be on the battlefield and be leading multiple armies simultaneously. Perhaps that’s why recently he seems to be more disgruntled with his job.

“Bring him in, but keep him immobilized.” The Admiral lifts his head pressing the communication pad on his armrest. Syrx is confused but makes a point not to openly show it. After a moment two of the elite soldiers, simply known as Glorious Golden, step in the room with the an Alyuan captive restrained by magnetic binds. The guard’s armor reflected their name, the color is gold obviously, but the shine is blinding. Each armor for these soldiers has been designed to fit their body perfectly from the helmet all the way down to the boots.  They carry their plasma rifles with pride each looking as clean as the day that they were manufactured.  Syrx thought that these guys are too obsessed with presentation because they always look too clean. Even after battles they would be seen cleaning their armor and weapons to the point where they were blinding.

“Alyuans have built a reputation Commander Syrx, a reputation that tells the galaxy that no matter what obstacle stands in our way we will overcome it and press on. Our guest holds this reputation well, even if it is admittedly twisted; you see this man set out with the goal of murdering the governor of Sital, you know that outer rim planet in the middle of nowhere. Back to my point, the reason he killed the governor had been warning to tame Sital’s people by sending in troops to crush their revolt.” Syrx feels a clump fill in his chest climbing its way up into his throat as he realizes who this restrained man is.

“Sir, are you telling me that this man is Baraxl?! Sir, with all due respect, I don’t think it’s wise to have an assassin on board who is capable of plowing through hundreds heavily armed soldiers on board this ship!”

“Relax Commander, can’t you see that he is no threat. I had the men of the Glorious Golden capture him a few days ago, since then we haven’t given him any food and minimal water. Granted in the capture we did loose more men than I would’ve like, and even getting him into these restraints was a challenge, but it was all worth it.” Starlot arises from his seat wrapping his arm around the Commander’s shoulder walking with him around Baraxl, displaying the prisoner like a hunter would a prized trophy.

“Worth what Sir?” Syrx feels something press against his chest followed by a horrible burning sensation going straight through him.

“It is worth not having another failure tucked under my belt.” Starlot smiles grabbing the dying officer by the chin only to toss him in front of Baraxl. For a brief moment the Commander lets out agonizing gasps clutching the wound on his chest before embracing death.

“Release the prisoner and take this filth to the nearest incinerator, let the guards outside the door know that by no means are we to be disturbed.”

               

The elite soldiers do as they are told dragging Syrx’s body out of the room leaving the two Alyuans alone. Baraxl glares at the Admiral, standing nearly naked only having an undergarment to cover his waist. Even for an Alyuan Baraxl is tall, he looms over the Admiral glaring at his with animalistic intent. His body is an amalgamation of scars that he obtained through the many assassination he had gone out to do. Starlot notices that there isn’t merely plasma scarring, but scars from gashes, from quickly done stitches, as well as acid and toxins.

               

Baraxl’s infamy is one of the few things that could strike fear into an Alyuan, the things that he had done seemed impossible for one being alone. And yet there is numerous amounts evidence that point to him practicing in assassinations, mass shootings, piracy, cyber-attacks, and so much more. The man is a professional at what he does, which isn’t anything charming. A saying that is common in the black market is that, “If you have a problem, enough money, and a frigate’s load of courage, Baraxl was the one to go to.”

“Were your accommodations to your liking? I heard how fussy you can be so I made sure that everything suited you.” Baraxl peers down on the esteemed Alyuan officer in front of him as his eyes slowly fading into a dark shade of purple. “Oh, calm down I have no intent of killing you, if I did you’d already be dead. Though I admit a fight with a worthy adversary sends chills of excitement through my bones. I mean can you imagine it, Alyu’s most famous and infamous warriors battling one another. Regardless of the outcome our names would be immortalized in history, all the sorts of depictions of the fight would make sure of that.” Baraxl eyes are now changing to a lighter shade of purple.

“Ahem, yes well I guess you want to get right to the point. As you saw my insubordinates are incapable of accomplishing a job as simple as protecting one ship, so I need someone with a bit of sense to in them, as well as some cunning and ruthlessness to them. Now young man you may be wondering why should you ever help me? Well to that I say, let’s take a look at your various account from across the galaxy.” A screen pops up besides them showing different legal and illegal accounts each containing large sums of wealth in them. “That’s right each account has gone up around eight hundred percent making you one of the richest Alyuans alive. Perhaps though this isn’t enough for you, well I’ll just tell you that I’ve got a plan in the works that will pardon you of all your crimes and give you the power you could ever want. All I ask in return is that you do this job… and for you to work for me from now on.”

               

Baraxl gives the Admiral a nasty scowl eyes still changing color. “You sir, are a convincing negotiator, well as my final offer I’ll grant you this to help you out if you change your mind.” A hologram of a sleek set of armor displays before them which catches Baraxl’s attention.  He slowly turns back to Starlot as his eyes return to their natural dark blue, Starlot simply smiles waving his arm as encouragement for the assassin to observe. Baraxl circles the image scanning the armor carefully taking notice of every feature.

“It’s a form of mechanized armor or as the engineers call it an ‘exoskeleton’. Now ordinarily suits like these are bulky and require a large power source to operate them. But with the connections I have I was aware of the test to make these suits more conventional to the average soldier. It’s has a gel layer outlined in woven titanium, and is powered by a fusion battery. The armor plates are made up of the rare metal called Invictallum that can withstand near anything. Small arms, large arms, artillery, you name it this armor will remain intact. It took the heat of a colossal star to melt it into something that you can forge. It is equipped the most advanced systems, life support, navigation, translator, and a HUD that is even able to tell you the condition of a weapon.  What you’re looking at is a first of a kind, the future of combat and its all yours if you only answer to me.” Baraxl snaps his neck at that notion, but slowly turns back to the accounts and the armor. He reflects on his options and what is to be gained and lost if he went through with this plan.

“What is this plan of yours?” the assassin finally speaks.

“I need your loyalty to tell you more, now do I have it or not?”  Starlot charming persona is now gone leaving in its place the stubborn military officer he is.

“You have my words, flesh, and spirit at your disposal.” The massive Alyuan kneels before his new master.

“Good, the Golden will inform you as you get your new armor, you’ll have a ship prepared in the meantime set to the last known coordinates of the missing ship.” Baraxl nods arising from his knee and walks out the room leaving the officer alone.

 

 

 

Author's Note

As always an constructive criticism is appreciated. And if there is anyone who has read all the chapters thus far, I'd like to let you know that i truly appreciate your views and loyalty. And if there is anyone new please feel free to check any previous chapters and review them if you'd like. I'll also go over and review your work if you would like just send me a message on what you'd liked reviewed and i'll do my best to get to it as fast as possible.

Reviews

[Virtue Jackson]

I don't normally enjoy these types of topics such as space travels and military like hierarchies. This one had me interested though so I'm actually looking forward to the rest. Worried about the 16 YO. The damaged ship description made me grimace, keep it up please!

[Ricky]

Thank you i appreciate the interest you have in my story. I'll be sure not to keep you waiting too long.