Jennifer Wells - Beyond the Stars - At Galaxy's Edge

Black, like the Yaxee death.

They detected Hyleesh at about twelve hundred feet away. The black SATV slowed down while the rest of the vehicles veered in his direction and picked up speed until he was completely surrounded.

Hyleesh looked up at the darkened cockpits and didn’t move.

Eventually, the engines died, and the wind blew away the last whiff of exhaust.

“Soldier,” a metallic voice called from one of the SATVs. “Identify yourself.”

He was wearing a plain soldier uniform. He’d forgotten about that. He stuck the butt of his rifle in the sand and removed his helmet.

The wind howled from the smoking cliffs. The voices of the dead rang in his ears. Hot air blew sand and ashes in his face, the salt on his lips making his skin prickle.

The cockpits of the five smaller SATVs popped open. Rope ladders dropped out of the top, and soldiers climbed down the vehicles carrying weapons, drills, pipes, and other pieces of equipment.

The black SATV at the back whirred. A lateral door lifted, and a platform lowered to the ground. The face remained in shadow, but the uniform Hyleesh recognized immediately‌—‌black with red insignia on the shoulders and sleeves, as official missions mandated.

General Zika, a.k.a., the Yaxee death.

Sleek ankle boots walked down from the platform and into the sand. A silk cape whispered in the charged air. The face came out of the shadow. It was a scarred face, hard, with a crooked nose and skin so thin you could trace blue capillaries pulsing beneath it. The eyes were as clear as ice.

“Captain Weber,” General Zika said. “What a surprise to find you here on Yulia.”

“I would say so,” Hyleesh replied, watching the soldiers form a ring around the two of them. “Quite unexpected to find any presence at all here on Yulia after the last deadly raids.”

A proud sneer twisted Zika’s thin lips. He waved a gloved hand at the devastation around them‌—‌the bodies washed to shore, the ruins of Sunan, the burning cliffs. “Indeed. I’d say the disinfestation was successful.”

A foul aftertaste filled Hyleesh’s mouth. Bastard.

Zika’s eyes narrowed. “Still. What’s the infamous Captain Weber, son of the pluri-medaled Colonel Weber, doing here? I believe your father is in Sarai right now. Weren’t you supposed to be with him, leading your own battalion?”

Hyleesh hooked the helmet under his arm and picked up his rifle from the sand. “I’m headed back there,” he lied. “I had to come in person to let you know that you made a mistake, General. There’s no Quarium on Yulia.”

Zika’s eyes widened, the ice in them hardened. One of the soldiers came out of the lines. “General‌—‌”

Zika flicked a hand in the air. “Go start testing the water. Now!”

The troops scrambled off, their gear clanging on their backs. They set the tools down on the sand a few yards away and started shoveling. Two men waded into the water and collected samples.

“I don’t know where you get your information, Weber,” Zika said, watching them. “I trust my intelligence. We had information that pointed to a Quarium reservoir here on Yulia big enough to destroy the entire Old System. We tried to negotiate with them. They refused.” He waved a hand at the ruins of Sunan looming in the distance and shrugged. To him, what happened next was the natural consequence the people of Yulia brought upon themselves.

“If they had that much Quarium,” Hyleesh interjected, “how come they never used it to defend themselves?”

Zika squinted, one of the blue capillaries in his temple bulged. “It was a matter of time. We were faster.” He gave Hyleesh a long, hard look and then added, “I suggest you stay out of this, Captain. Sarai will be a hard enough nut to crack for you and your father. May I get you an escort to your ship?”

Hyleesh sent one last glance to the men working on their Quarium quest and shook his head. He could get to his ship all right. The problem was that Zika’s men were in the way. He swung the rifle over his shoulder, shook the sand off his boots, and walked away.

“Good luck with the Quarium quest, General,” he called. “What planet are you going to destroy unneccesarily next?”

He spotted a shadow peeking at him from the open door of the black SATV. It waited for him to pass, then slid out of the vehicle and ran to the general. Hyleesh turned and recognized Egon, Zika’s closest counselor, a skull face that never left his patron’s side. His black gown and aquiline nose made him look like a crow. He probably made love to the General, too, when slaves weren’t around to provide such services.

Egon cupped a hand around his ashen face and whispered something in the General’s ear. Whatever news he delivered, it didn’t look good. Zika’s eyes darted to Hyleesh.

“Come back, Weber!” he called.

He heard it in the general’s voice. Word’s out. Hyleesh flashed a nonchalant smile while quickly assessing his options. The General didn’t buy the smile. Egon had already turned to the soldiers, probably mouthing orders in his radio mic.

Hyleesh dropped his helmet, ran to one of the mosquitos, and climbed into the small cockpit.

“Traitor!” yelled Egon. “He committed mutiny!”

The soldiers dropped their equipment, grabbed their weapons, and ran back. Hyleesh worked the mosquito’s controls until the engine whirred and the aircraft took off, its robotic legs retracting under the fuselage.

Hyleesh had never flown these gadgets. The aircraft was so light compared to his sturdy ship he could feel the wind rocking him right and left. He pulled the collective and steered back toward the city. A flurry of HPNs‌—‌high power neutrino beams‌—‌skidded against the fuselage, causing all sorts of emergency diodes on the dashboard to flash.

Hyleesh pushed the throttle and increased the velocity. The aircraft rattled and swung forward. Two other mosquitos flanked him, closing in on both sides. Hyleesh saw them coming, jerked the collective, and dipped the aircraft down and forward. The two mosquitos slammed one against the other, and pieces of metal ricoched off Hyleesh’s windshield, denting it. One of the colliding aircraft lost two rotors, tilted, and flew off sideways. The other one continued its pursuit.

The SATVs followed from the ground, black wakes of exhaust trailing behind them. As soon as Hyleesh entered the space above Sunan, though, the big vehicles slowed down as they painfully crawled over piles of rubble.

Hyleesh dropped in altitude and begin to zigzag through the crooked skyline of the city. The other mosquito was relentless. Hyleesh dipped under a partially fallen overpass and squeezed between its broken pillars, but his pursuer was just as agile.

Some of the buildings that had survived the bombings started crumbling as the two mosquitos flew by. Hyleesh zipped through a narrow alley and debris from the facing towers started raining down on them. Something hit one of the rotors, making the aircraft spin. The other mosquito flew over him and pried at the rest of the rotors with its robotic legs. Hyleesh plummeted. He popped the windshield, unbuckled, and moments before the mosquito touched ground, he jumped out of the cockpit and through one of the open windows of the closest building.

The aircraft shattered in a cloud of fragments. The engine exploded, flames shot high up between the two facing towers. Hyleesh never knew what happened to the other mosquito. The heat wave blasted through the broken windows, lifted him up, and slammed him several feet away. He rolled on debris, shards piercing through his skin and heat lapping at his feet. A rumble shook the walls around him. He felt the quiver from the ground and ran, right as the ceiling collapsed and a thick cloud of dust and debris enveloped him.