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

The vessel was spherical, with a pair of triangular wings jutting from the midsection. It looked like flying grapefruit. At their current pace they’d be docking in less than two minutes.

“Okay, let’s move,” the captain barked, shoving Wes toward what he presumed to be a transporter of some kind. “Find me a way to seal the door, or to get us deeper inside the Spire. I don’t care which.”

“No pressure,” Wes muttered, hurrying to the smooth white door. It hissed open at his approach, and he looked inside. The wall was covered in sigils, all dark except for one that looked a lot like his amulet. A quick glance back at the security barrier showed no immediate way to raise it, no control panel or switch. “I’m pretty sure I can get this transporter working. It’s similar to the ones on Corentia. I don’t see a way to close the door behind us, though.”

“Okay, that will have to do. Everybody follow Wes,” the captain said, hurrying into the boxy room until she was crowding him. The others arrived a moment later, Tantor and Sadie making the tiny room positively claustrophobic. Wes tapped the sigil that looked like the amulet, uttering a silent prayer to gods he didn’t really believe in.

A warm tingle passed through his body, and the room’s rear wall began to shimmer. It rippled like a pool of water, and when it cleared a sort of portal had opened. On the other side lay what appeared to be a library. The room was lined with shelves, every shelf packed with leather bound books. Plush high-backed chairs dotted the corners, each sitting next to equally ornate end tables.

“Everybody in,” the captain said, nudging Wes toward the portal.

Wes stepped through, bracing himself as he broke the portal’s plane. He didn’t feel a tingle or anything odd, he simply stepped through like it was any other doorway. Wes turned to scan the hallway, looking for a sigil or any other way to close the portal. There was nothing obvious.

“Sadie, you’re next,” the captain ordered, pushing the petite mechanic toward the portal. She walked toward Wes, wide eyes studying the room. Right up until she bumped into the edge of the portal, like it was a pane of glass.

“Ow,” she said, raising a hand to her nose. She blinked, then raised a hand and tried to stick it through the portal. It stopped at the plane, again like it was touching glass. “Looks like you’re the only one who can get inside.”

“What should I do?” Wes called to the captain.

Tysha glanced behind her, then turned an exasperated look at Wes. “If we can’t come to you, then you need to find something that will help us out here. Look around. Quickly.”

“Uhh,” Wes said, spinning slowly in place as he sought anything that might help. “I see a bunch of books lining the walls, and what looks like a smaller room past this one.”

“Lovely,” the captain snapped. She turned to Tantor. “We’ll try to hold them at the tunnel entrance. Sadie, stay here and keep an eye on Wes. Wes, if you like breathing then you’d better find something useful. We’ll hold them for as long as we can.”

Wes gave a nod, fists balling as he walked quickly into the smaller room beyond the first. The books were interesting, but only if he had time to study them. He needed something practical, and he needed it right now.

The smaller room was also lined with bookshelves, just as the first room had been. They hardly seemed in keeping with a technological behemoth like the Elderi, but evidently they’d liked their hard copies. He was more used to digital books, but the Elderi had been sticklers for tradition, especially antiquated ones.

Two plush chairs sat at the far side of the room, each hovering a little off the floor. Wes had no idea what kept them aloft, no one did. They’d seen it in other Elderi tech, and it had never been duplicated or reverse engineered. Many scientists laughingly called it magic, as it seemed to obey none of the laws of psychics.

It was the pedestal in the center of the room that drew his attention though. Sitting atop it were two silver pistols, exact replicas of those depicted on the sigil outside. They were smaller than his Welks, each a solid piece of metal with a narrow trigger guard. There was no obvious clip, or action. He’d never seen anything like them.

Heat bloomed in Wes as he stared at the weapons, and he knew they were meant for him. He walked over to the pedestal, carefully inspecting it from all sides. There didn’t seem to be any traps, and the feeling was growing stronger. Plus, he was out of time. These were weapons, exactly what the captain had asked for.

Wes picked up one of the pistols. A thrill passed through him, an indescribably beautiful feeling. The weapon fit his hand perfectly. It was a part of him in some way he didn’t fully understand. He set the pistol down reluctantly, unbuckling his own weapon and dropping it to the floor. Then he picked up the Elderi belt, buckling the holsters around his waist. Wes drew the second pistol, and picked up the first from the pedestal. The thrill grew stronger. Energy filled him, and he had to suppress a giggle.

“Wes,” Sadie’s panicked voice came from the room beyond. “You’ve got to hurry. Things aren’t looking good here.”

Wes strode back through the library, pistols at the ready. Sadie was peering at him through the portal, and beyond her Wes could see bright flashes. The telltale whump of plasma weaponry mingled with traditional slug fire. Most of the fire came from farther away, from the Marbok, if Wes was any judge.

“You found a couple pistols? I guess that’s something,” Sadie said, looking a little crestfallen.

Wes didn’t answer, the song within him consuming his attention. His body glided along, almost of its own accord. It moved gracefully, a word he’d never, ever have ascribed to himself.

He passed through the portal, then broke into a sprint as he approached the doorway leading back to the hangar. A Marbok body lay just outside, its dull eyes staring unblinkingly at the wall. There wasn’t a mark on him, not that Wes could see anyway.

His holo-honed senses instantly recognized the handiwork of a brain Melter. There was no sign of Tantor, but that wasn’t surprising. Melters could manipulate the minds of others, ensuring that no one noticed them. It made them all but invisible, and was part of why they were the favorite assassins of every noble house.

“Don’t just stand there. Do something,” Sadie said, dropping into a crouch and shielding herself with her arms.

So Wes did. He glided past the captain, who was using the doorway as cover. Six Marbok were fanned out across the hangar, each cradling a long barreled weapon. Those barrels pointed in Wes’s direction, and an instant later they began to boom.

His eyes widened as the rifles began to boom. Wes was positive he was dead.

To his immense surprise, Wes dove into a roll. He tucked his shoulder, using his momentum to catapult back to his feet. Bullets ricocheted from the deck with echoing pings, mere inches away. The Marbok began adjusting their aim, turning like they were stuck in molasses.

Wes had all the time in the world. His arms rose of their own accord, each pistol aimed at the Marbok on either end of their semicircle. Wes’s fingers caressed each trigger, and he walked the silver weapons down the entire line of rocky adversaries. Bolts of green-blue burst from the weapons, catching each Marbok in the face. They were knocked back like boka pins, flung across the deck to land in heaps. None rose.

Another group charged out of the vessel, nearly a dozen. Gantok stood in the back, an enormous axe cradled in one hand. Wes was gripped by the kind of terror he’d not experienced since he used to wet the bed. He was moving toward them, instead of running like any sane man. His body glided into motion, rolling forward and using one of the downed Marbok as cover. Wes fired off a volley, the silver pistols bucking slightly as he filled the air with green-blue bolts. Four Marbok slumped to the deck, enraging the rest.