CassaStorm (25 page)

“You will save the remaining races.”

Pride colored his father’s words. Bassan’s heart jumped. If he helped save the races, it would please his father. Buoyed by confidence, Bassan offered a hesitant smile. That knowledge didn’t eliminate his fear of leaving Tgren, but it helped.

“Good,” his father said, patting his leg.

A hum vibrated in his chest. Bassan closed his eyes as the sensation grew stronger. Sweat formed in his palms and he clung to his harness in desperation. A touch on his mind sent a jolt through his nerves.

That’s the teleporter,
his father thought.
Feel it?

Bassan held his breath. His father’s words carried an edge of excitement. Focusing on the hum, and the reassuring presence in his head, Bassan shoved aside his fear as the ship jumped. When the hum stopped, he opened his eyes one at a time. They were still inside the shuttle.

See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?

A moment later the shuttle shuddered and all movement ceased. The engines grew softer and a soft hiss signified the opening of the hatch. Bassan eased his grip on the harness. He’d made it.

His father helped with his harness and led him down the ramp. Bassan looked up at the buildings surrounding the cave entrance. The day his class visited, the place had bustled with life, but today only silence greeted them. Concerned, Bassan looked up at his father.

“Where is everyone?” he said.

His father placed a hand on his back, ushering Bassan toward to the steps. “Making preparations in case we have to evacuate.”

“We’re not sending the code in my head to the probe today, are we?”

“No, we’re just practicing.” His father patted his head and pushed Bassan forward. “Come on, Officer Mevine is waiting for us.”

As they approached the cave, the whine of fighter engines broke the silence. Familiar with Cosbolts, Bassan wondered why the pitch was higher. Curious, he glanced up at the sky. Three vessels closed in on their position. Bassan gasped.

They were not Cosbolts.

“Run to the cave!” his father ordered, shoving him forward. “Run to Officer Mevine.”

Balling his hands into fists, Bassan pumped his arms and forced his legs to move. Gravel flew up behind him as he raced toward the cave entrance. The sound of his rapid footsteps reverberated off the empty buildings as he passed. The echo seemed hallow. Something wasn’t right though. Slowing his pace, he glanced over his shoulder.

His father disappeared into the shuttle, and the hatch closed behind him. The fighters were almost upon them, their engines screaming. Stumbling, Bassan regained his footing and paused to watch. Soaring past the entrance of the cave, the ships banked to the left and rocketed skyward.

Glancing at the shuttle, Bassan caught sight of his father’s image in the cockpit. He’d taken the pilot’s seat, which puzzled Bassan.

Damn it, Bassan, run!

Motivated by fear and the threat in his father’s tone, Bassan ran for the cave. The shuttle roared to life behind him, but he didn’t turn to look. Fighting the slope leading to the cave’s entrance, Bassan dug in his heels. His boots struck solid rock and he stumbled forward. The brilliance of the morning sun vanished as he entered the cave.

Bassan took several steps before slowing his pace. Gasping for air, he glanced back at the cave opening. The sounds outside were muffled. Bassan stopped and listened, straining to catch the shuttle’s engine. Resting a hand on the cave wall, he caught his breath. Reaching for his father’s mind, Bassan caught a view of the three ships from behind.

He’s chasing them with the shuttle? Bassan thought.

Ignoring the order to run to Mevine, Bassan returned to the cave entrance. He edged forward, scanning the valley. He could hear the fighters, but they were out of sight. Leaning forward, Bassan peered up at the sky.

Where are they? he thought.

The air grew still. Pressing his back against the cave wall, Bassan waited.

The blast of laser fire caught his attention. He glanced in the direction of Ktren just as two ships appeared, rounding the mountain’s crest. The fighter rocked back and forth, attempting to shake its pursuer. The shuttle loomed large behind the thin ship, like a great beast about to capture its prey. Lasers fired from the Cassan vessel, striking the wing of the tiny fighter. Smoke and fire poured from the ship, and it lost altitude. The tiny fighter dipped lower and hugged the ground. The shuttle fired one more time, severing the wing. The fighter dropped and struck the end of the runway. Tilted at an angle, it slid the entire length before coming to a rest in the scrub brush.

Bassan cried out. He’d never seen a ship go down before.

The roar of fighters caught his attention. Looking up, he saw the other two ships cross the ridge of the mountain. The shuttle turned and rose in pursuit. In a flash, all three vessels vanished from view.

He turned his attention to the downed fighter. Listing on its side, its good wing pointing toward the sky, the ship showed no sign of life. Wisps of smoke drifted from the far side of the craft, curling into the morning air. The markings revealed no allegiance to any race. Bassan couldn’t even place the fighter. Everything about the ship was a puzzle.

Glancing at the sky, he listened for the other fighters. The morning breeze brought with it no sound. The fight was now beyond the horizon.

Bassan examined the downed fighter. A building obscured a portion of his view and he couldn’t see the tail. If the race’s markings only occupied the rear of the vessel, he wouldn’t see it from his vantage point. He needed to move closer.

Creeping down the hill, he sidled up to the closest building. Pressing his body flat against the surface, Bassan edged forward. He kept his mind shielded, afraid his parents would detect his actions. He hated to get into trouble, but Bassan wanted to see the ship up close. Slipping around the corner, he came in view of the craft, but still couldn’t see the tail.

Legs quivering, Bassan walked closer, one hand on the side of the building. If he could just get a good look at the ship, he’d have bragging rights over the other boys. None of them had been this close to an alien ship. Drent would be really impressed. Bassan held his breath and peered around the corner.

The ship rested on its side, the cockpit angled away from Bassan. Its streamlined body boasted many marks and scores from laser fire. Its shape and size suggested a Vindicarn ship, but Bassan couldn’t recall this model from his studies. The tail provided no clues either. It featured the same, drab grey as the rest of the fighter.

Pushing off from the building, Bassan stepped closer. The remaining wing pointed skyward and he gazed up at the engine. Larger than his own body, the engine dangled from the wing and moved in the breeze. Several bolts were missing, their empty holes rusty with decay. Bassan wondered who would be brave enough to fly a ship in such a state of disrepair.

The acrid smell of burnt metal filled his nostrils. Moving closer to the ship’s nose, Bassan noticed smoke still trailing up from the other side of the fighter. As he watched, the wind changed, sending a cloud of fumes his direction. The scorched metal smelled awful. Bassan coughed and staggered a few steps to get away from the smoke.

A snap caught his attention and he looked up. A dark skinned man stood at the nose of the plane, gun in hand and pointed at Bassan. A cry escaped his lips and Bassan reached out to contact his father. To his horror, a clamp came down over his mind, silencing his thoughts.

The man edged forward, the fingers of his free hand trailing along the nose of the craft. Bassan’s mouth went dry and his knees began to shake. The pilot’s eyes narrowed, adding more creases to his rough skin. His eyes were almost black, far darker than his ashen skin. The dark orbs stirred memories of nightmares long since forgotten. Bassan tried to look away but his body refused to cooperate. Rooted to the spot, he waited as the man drew closer.

The faint sound of fighter engines echoed through the canyon and the man jumped. Baring his teeth, he leapt forward and grabbed Bassan’s wrist.

“Come on, damn it,” he cried, yanking Bassan forward.

Too afraid to protest, Bassan let the man pull him into the scrub brush. The pilot’s long legs moved fast and Bassan struggled to maintain the same pace. He tripped over a rock and went down on one knee. The man’s grip tightened, pulling Bassan to his feet. Glancing at the sky, the pilot continued to run farther into the canyon, dragging Bassan behind him.

Focused on running, Bassan didn’t have time to be scared. He concentrated on placing one foot in front of the other, his gaze fixed on the ground. The sand below his feet passed in a blur. Breath ragged from running so hard, Bassan knew he was reaching the limits of his endurance. What would the man do to him if he collapsed?

The land sloped upward. The desert floor gave way to rock and Bassan strained to maintain his balance. More than once, his free hand touched the ground. The man continued to pull him along. Bassan longed to beg him to stop, but he couldn’t form the words. He tried again to reach out to someone. The wall around his mind held fast, squelching the desperate cry to his parents. Bassan was cut off from the rest of the world.

Rocks slid under his feet, tumbling to the valley floor below. He fought to maintain his footing on the slippery slope. The man moved with great agility over the surface, dragging Bassan behind him. Winded and tired, Bassan glanced up, hoping their destination was in sight. In that brief moment, his left foot came down wrong. Bassan fell forward, his knees striking the rocky surface. The jolt sent a surge of pain up his legs. Bassan cried out as the man took another step, dragging him across the rocks.

To his surprise, the pilot stopped. Bassan’s chest heaved as he gasped for air. His knees throbbed and he shifted his position. Dropping his head, Bassan closed his eyes.

The wind drifted over his body. It cooled his overheated skin and whistled past his ears. Grateful for a moment to recover, Bassan remained on his aching knees and sucked air into his lungs.

Over his ragged breaths, he heard the sound of a fighter engine. Before he could look up to confirm the source of the noise, the man yanked him to his feet.

“Move!”

The threat in the man’s deep voice forced Bassan to scramble up the slope behind him. The sound of ships approaching grew louder. Any moment now, they would see him.

The man pulled him forward and shoved his head down. Hitting the ground, Bassan found himself sliding headlong down a tunnel. The rough surface tore at his hands and exposed elbows. He hit a rocky surface, slowing his forward progress. Ducking his head, Bassan tucked his body and rolled. He landed against a rough wall of rock, his back absorbing the impact.

Behind him, a loud thump was followed by a rapid scraping noise. Bassan lifted his head. What little light drifted down from the cave’s entrance wasn’t enough to illuminate the cave. However, he caught the outline of a man against the faint rays of light. Bassan reached behind him, hoping the cave extended farther. He was smaller than his captor. Perhaps he could squeeze through a tiny fissure in the mountain and put some distance between him and the man. To his dismay, his fingers found only solid rock.

A light appeared in the darkness. Bassan gasped as the luminance filled the cave. His eyes adjusted and he noticed a small bar of light in the man’s hand. Bassan’s captor pressed his back against the rock, one hand holding the light away from the entrance and his gun in the other. Outside, the sound of fighters swelled. Bassan tried one more time to reach out with his mind. The barrier only tightened further.

The noise from the ships grew distant. The man’s head fell against the wall and he took a deep breath. Bassan remained in his crouched position, afraid to move. His hands and elbows hurt, although it was nothing compared to the throbbing in his knees.

Don’t cry, Bassan thought. Father would be brave.

The man’s chin dropped. In the confined space, his rapid breath wheezed in an eerie rhythm. The pilot lifted his head and rapped it against the cave wall several times.

“Damn it,” he exclaimed.

Bassan shifted his body. The sound drew the man’s attention. Terrified, Bassan froze. The pilot wrinkled his nose and sneered.

“What were you doing out there, boy?” he said.

The man’s annoyed tone scared Bassan further and he held his tongue. Moving with caution, he sat up and pressed his back against the rock. He had to find a way to escape and soon. Why had he wanted to see the ship up close?

Father will be so angry, he thought.

His captor looked away, his attention on the narrow cave opening. Bassan studied his face, confused by the man’s appearance. His features were at odds with his complexion and dark, shaggy hair. Since his ship resembled a Vindicarn fighter, Bassan had assumed the man of the same race. The skin of the Vindicarn resembled cooled, molten lava though. His captor’s complexion was just a rough but an ashen grey rather than pitch-black. The man’s head seemed rounder as well. As for the full head of hair, Bassan knew that wasn’t possible. The Vindicarn were bald.

“You’re not Vindicarn,” he gasped.

Horrified he’s spoken aloud, Bassan sucked in his breath. The man turned to face him, his head tilting to one side.

“I’m half Vindicarn,” said the pilot.

Bassan drew his knees closer to his chest. “What’s the other half?”

“Cassan.”

A gasp of surprise escaped Bassan’s lips. His captor appeared annoyed and Bassan regretted his quick reaction. He held his tongue and stared harder at the man, his spine tingling. The pilot was a half-breed!

“And just what are you?” said the man, lowering his gun. “I’m not real familiar with Tgrens, but you seem rather pale for a native.”

Bassan swallowed and sat up straighter. “My mother is Tgren and my father Cassan.”

“Seems we have something in common then.”

He set down the light and reached for his right shoulder. The man grimaced and adjusted his position against the rock.

“Damn shuttle pilot,” he mumbled, staring at the cave entrance. “I’ve never seen anyone fly like that.”