A Soul Divided (The Blood Fire Trilogy Book 1) (5 page)

"You're sure about this job boss?" One of his crew members asked. "People have impersonated government officials and tried to offer us the king’s money, but it's all fake."

“People have tried it before, and then died for their mistake.” Titus responded, irritated by this crewman’s questioning attitude. He might have to kill him later to make an example to the crew. “I met with King Dathan himself. He assured me we’ll receive our payment."  

Their target was in sight, and if this heist was as important as Dathan had made it sound, there was sure to be a good amount of fighting involved. Titus would need every one of his irritatingly simple minded crew to battle if the Humans on this ship had armor piercing rounds in their guns. Hopefully this particular crew member would survive so Titus could have the pleasure of killing him.

“Are we the only crew Dathan hired for this thing?” The crew member asked.

"I don’t see why Dathan would have hired a second crew without informing us.” Titus replied.

“Then we’ve got some competition.” The crew member said, pointing a clawed finger at the screen.

Titus glanced down at the viewing screen. A second ship was already attached on the opposite side of their target. Somebody else was already in the processes of robbing it.

“It looks like this job just got more interesting.” Titus said.

****************************

“Good work guys, we’re finally done loading.” Drake said after nearly a half an hour of hauling large tanks of the blood-red euphodine. Of course Drake hadn’t been doing any of the lifting. His crew had voiced their annoyance, but he didn’t care. Supervising the crew was the captain’s duty after all. Heavy lifting wasn’t in his job description. “Let’s do one more check over the ship for anything else of value, and we’ll get out of here.”

Drake took a step forward, his foot landing in a small puddle of spilled euphodine on the floor. He let out a surprised yell as his foot lost traction in the slick liquid and he crashed down to the floor with a loud thud that echoed down the Caetus’ metallic hallways.

The crew burst out into laughter. Even Al was suppressing a chuckle as he listened to Drake moan on the floor.

“That wasn’t funny!” Drake yelled out in a childish voice as his crew’s laughter continued. “Seriously,” Drake continued. “What just happened to me wasn’t exactly lucky. My Vhy’ Rai isn’t working. That means there’s Xan’ Rai cancelation nearby.”

“A Draco crew is here.” Al cut in. “We have to…”

Before Al could finish his sentence, a series of large thuds emanated through the walls of the Caetus, followed by the sounds of drilling.

“A boarding ship.” Drake said, “Get to our ship and disconnect. I’ll distract them and get to an escape pod. Pick me up after I launch.”

The crew all obeyed without question; except for Al.

“Are you going to require my assistance?” he asked.

“No, you know their armor is too thick for any of us to get through,” Drake said. “We need somebody who’s quick enough to avoid them and annoying enough to distract them while everybody else leaves. And we both know nobody’s better at those things than me. Besides, I need you to lead the crew until I get back. They’ll probably go sell the euphodine on the streets without us to stop them.”

“Your argument is well stated Captain,” Al replied. “I’ll be picking you up soon. I would appreciate it if you would avoid death as my life is tied to yours and I am required to end myself if I ever fail to keep you alive.”

“If you off yourself because I die I’m going to find you in the afterlife and kill you again. Now get on the ship!”

Al turned and ran to catch up with the rest of the evacuating crew. Drake turned and ran in the opposite direction toward the sounds of drilling, grabbing two of the pistols taken from the guards in the earlier fight as he went. It was a shame he’d have to use these so soon, it wasn’t often that people found a real working gun with bullets out here in Mystic space.

He turned a corner moving closer to the sound of the boarding ships forcing their entry and was greeted by the sight of a huge hole where there used to be a wall. Stepping out of it was monstrous, nine-foot tall Draco. With a scale-covered reptilian head and ivory horns protruding from its scalp, a long and powerful tail with artificial metal spikes attached to the end of it, four large wings protruding from its back, and sharp claws on its hands and feet. There were stories of men who died from heart failure at the sight of a fully armored and hostile Draco-Hominis.

Those men wouldn’t last long in Drake’s line of work.

As the Draco stepped out of the hole, Drake unloaded an entire clip from one of his stolen pistols into its chest. Every bullet bounced off of the thick armor covering the Draco’s body. The large Draco turned to face Drake. A smile came to his reptilian face as he saw his attacker.

Or at least something that looked like a smile; it was hard to tell what expression a Draco had because of their extended snout of a mouth.

“Drake Ashbell! The last time I laid eyes on your ugly face, you were running away with my share and leaving me for dead.” The Draco said in an almost excited tone.

“Is that you Titus!?” Drake yelled back. “Are you still bitter about our last job together? That artifact turned out to be a fake anyway, so there shouldn’t be any hard feelings. Unless you’re just bitter about being number two and came to finally try to beat me?”

“You are as impetuous as I remember.” Titus snarled at him.  “Killing you will be a true pleasure.”

“Good luck.” Drake said as he raised his second pistol and unloaded another four shots into Titus’s armor. He had been aiming for the exposed bits of skin at Titus’s neck; but pistols were hard to aim, especially with Titus’s Xan’ Rai cancelling out the luck he was so accustomed to having.

“You think that hurts me!?” Titus yelled in fury as he stepped toward Drake, drawing out his massive sword. The blade was nearly as long as Drake was tall.

“Nope!” Drake yelled. “I just think it pisses you off. And you’re so much more fun when you’re angry.”

Drake hurled his empty pistol making a metallic clang as it hit Titus’s helmet.

At least he could still aim without his luck when he threw things.

Titus swung his gigantic sword in rage. But it dug into the metal walls of the narrow hallway before it even came close to touching Drake. Tight spaces like the halls of the Caetus were not an ideal place to be fighting with a sword that was five and a half feet long.

“So Titus, do you think you’re second best because you’re too awkwardly large to be effective in these narrow halls, or just because you’re too stupid to realize it?”

Titus let out a loud growl, small amounts of fire escaping from his clenched teeth, and smoke coming out of his nostrils.

Ok, he’s mad enough now.
Drake thought.
He’s not thinking about anything except for killing me. It’s time to run.

He fired the rest of his bullets at Titus’s face, although none of them hit their target.

I really need to learn how to aim one of those things better.
He thought as he threw the empty pistol, hitting Titus’s thick metal helmet.
At least I can aim when I throw things.

Titus let out another roar as he chased Drake through the narrow hallways of the Caetus.

Drake swivelled his head back and forth frantically, looking for an escape pod as he ran. Hoping to confuse Titus, he took a sudden, sharp corner. He turned so fast he had no time to stop and ran face first into a sealed door. He was relying too heavily on luck.

Korah’s soul!
He thought as he rubbed his face and tried to sniff back in some of the blood that was now running out of his nose

This is where we boarded. The ship must’ve sealed off this area to keep oxygen from escaping once the boarding harpoons pulled out. At least that means my crew is out.

“Nowhere to run now.” Drake heard Titus’s deep, booming voice as the Draco came toward him down the narrow hallway.

This is not good.
Drake thought. Titus was right. His only option was to get past him. That would not be an easy feat considering how huge the Draco was, and how tiny these hallways were. But it was Drake’s only shot, so he resolved to take it. Drake felt the anticipation building in his chest as Titus approached, but he wasn’t about to let Titus see that.

“I might be cornered now,” he said, “but with how you fight, you’re still not going to hurt me.”

Drake watched Titus walking slowly toward him with what appeared to be a grin of satisfaction on his reptilian face.

“You betrayed me and took my share of the pay out last time I worked with you.” Titus said. “You won’t live to do that again.”

“Wait a minute!” Drake said, “I didn’t take your money! Jax stole it all from me before I could make the rendezvous point!” That much was true, Drake neglected to mention that he had been trying to rob Titus at the same time that Jax had robbed him, but Titus didn’t need to know that little detail anyway.

“Weak people like you always fold on their friends right before I kill them.” Titus replied. “It will be interesting to hear what secrets Jax tells me about you when I put an end to him. Too bad you won’t be alive for me to use those secrets against you.”

“Woah, Titus, I am not ok with this situation at all. There is no way I can die letting you think that Jax is my friend. That dude is a total creep. He robbed me and hooked up with my ex. He deserves whatever you’re going to do to him.”

Drake could smell the stench of festering meat on Titus’s breath as the Draco stepped in closer. Was this how Drake’s life would end? He always knew he would get killed one day with the lifestyle he led, but he had always assumed he’d be able to put up more of a fight than this. If he just threw away his revolver, then he could easily kill Titus. But that was an option he had sworn to never take intentionally. He would rather die.

Titus paused for a moment and turned his head in slight confusion to look at a door in the hull of the ship labeled “Docking Port.”

Drake heard it too; the clicking sounds of docking clamps latching together. Somebody else was getting onto this ship, and they had the docking codes.

“Our ship is gone Captain! The Human’s sent a battle cruiser! What do we do!?” A panicked voice yelled out through the walkie-talkie strapped onto Titus’s belt.

The Draco ship had been destroyed, and neither of them had noticed? That made sense; the vacuum of space prevented them from hearing anything happening outside unless the sound source made direct contact with the hull of the ship. But unless the Humans had destroyed the Draco ship without so much as a warning, there should have been some kind of communication over Titus’s radio before now. Attacking without offering the option of surrender first was something the Human Empire only did on high priority missions. Just what was so special about those drugs?

Drake didn’t wait for Titus’s response to the new information. He seized the opportunity while Titus was distracted to make a break for the escape pods. He went sprinting down the hallway, narrowly dodging a surprised clawed swipe from Titus as he did.

“I hope you enjoy staying number two!” He yelled, looking back at Titus as he continued his mad dash down the hallway.  With his head turned back, Drake didn’t even notice that the door labelled “Docking Port” had now swung open.

There was a metallic pinging sound through the hallways as Drake ran face first into the newly open door, and fell to the floor.

Men in full plated tactical body armor came pouring in through the open doorway; full automatic, armor piercing machine guns at the ready. Not even the Dracos were about to pick a fight with a squad of V.A.L.O.R. soldiers; especially not a group that had weapons powerful enough to pierce their thick armor.

Titus dropped his weapons and put his hands behind his head as he dropped to his knees.

“You live another day Drake.” Titus said. “But rest assured; I will kill you one day.”

Drake laid there moaning in pain as they flipped him over and handcuffed him.

“I really like my revolver. It would be a good idea to let me keep that.” He said as the soldiers confiscated his weapons. He was, of course, ignored. Drake remained in silence, keeping his eyes closed and taking calming, deep breaths as the V.A.L.O.R. soldiers escorted him to a cell and hauled their new prisoners away.

Chapter 7: Drake

Drake blinked, trying to adjust to the sudden light that flooded his eyes as a soldier ripped the rough, cloth sack off of his head. As he regained his bearings, the reality of his situation began to dawn on him.

He stood on a platform surrounded by men in military uniforms. He could feel the coarse rope rubbing against his neck. It wasn’t the first time someone tried to hang him, but none of those times ended well for anyone involved.

He didn’t have his revolver.

He felt its absence as a burning in his chest. Not the warming, powerful sensation of using Vhy’ Rai. This was the burning of deep fear and hatred; hatred for anything and everything, and fear of what that hatred was about to make him do.

“Drake Ashbell.” a deep voice crackled over an intercom, “You have been found guilty of piracy, impersonation of an officer, escaping from legal holding, and the mass murders of over one thousand military personnel. For this, you have been sentenced to death by hanging without rights to a trial. Do you have any last words to put on record before your death?”

“Yeah, I do.” Drake replied, fighting against the uncontrollable hatred surging up inside of him. “I’m sorry for what’s about to happen to all of you.”

The hatch beneath his feet opened and Drake began to fall.

*************************

Vahn sat in his new office, pouring over a massive list of Drake’s past crimes, desperately searching for any kind of pattern that connected them. Up until now, no pattern stuck out to him. It seemed that Drake as a criminal was as spontaneous and random as Vahn remembered him being as a child. He would rob a bank and then throw the money away; steal a ship, only to return it later after making a few repairs. His crimes didn’t have any traceable logic behind them. And then there was the matter of all of the murders. Vahn needed to read reports from several sources before he came to believe them. What kind of man could be guilty of over a thousand murders? Certainly not Drake, he had always been kind as a child.

Suddenly the screen on Vahn’s desk blared to life, and Erica’s face appeared on the screen. She wore less make-up today, but it was still too much.

“There’s a call for you sir.” She said in her rigid, official voice. “From the warden of Hades Prison. He says that he has Drake Ashbell in custody.”

“Patch him through immediately.” Vahn said, trying not to sound too excited. “Thank you Erica.”

Erica gave a courteous nod as she pressed a button at her desk and the screen changed to the image of an older gentleman wearing a nice suit.

“Hello.” The man said. “Am I speaking with Captain Ashbell?”

“Yes.” Vahn replied.

“Good,” said the man. “My name is John Erikson. I’m the warden over the Hades Lunar Prison. I’m calling in regards to your search for Drake Ashbell. We have him in custody at the moment. He’s about to be hung as per the kill on sight order issued with the warrant for his arrest.”

“Stop the execution!” Vahn yelled out. “He is of extreme importance to the king!”

“Right away, Sir!” The warden said, looking flustered as he stood up, giving Vahn a salute, and hurried out the door.

I finally caught a break.
Vahn thought as he waited for the warden to return and confirm that the execution had been stopped. He was relieved that Drake would get to live another day. He may have been a murderer, but he was still Vahn’s brother.

An otherworldly scream blared through the speakers. Vahn’s eyes snapped back to the screen. Was there some sort of jailbreak going on? The scream was followed by gunfire and several other screams. In moments the air filled with the all too familiar sounds of battle. The window to the warden’s office suddenly burst into small shards as a bloody corpse came flying through it. Vahn recognized John’s fancy suit; but his head and his right arm were no longer attached.

“Prepare the fastest ship we have available and get me a V.A.L.O.R. unit!” Vahn yelled out to Erica. “We’re going to Hades Prison.”

*************************

The stench of blood hung heavily in the air as Drake wandered through the field of dead bodies that littered the ground of the prison. He hated blood. He hated its smell, the way that it looked coming from another living thing, and the way that he felt like it would never wash off of his skin no matter how many times he bathed. Only twenty minutes earlier, all of these men were alive. They were probably husbands and fathers with families of their own, life goals, dreams, endless potential. Now they were nothing more than food for worms, and weights on Drake’s conscience.

Drake shut his eyes tight, holding back the tears fighting to break free.

“I really hate that Titus.” Drake said out loud, trying to break the eerie silence that surrounded him. Amid the chaos that had ensued after they tried to hang Drake. Titus escaped by stealing the only ship at the prison.

Drake usually preferred lunar prisons for his incarcerations because they only had one ship at a time parked in them as a security measure. That made it very easy to get away if you stole that one ship because nobody could chase after you. But this time, Titus beat him to the punch. So Drake was trapped here alone with nothing but his guilt; wandering around with nobody to talk to except for the dead bodies with their severed limbs and heads lying around the prison, acting as a constant reminder of the monster that he was.

I’m filthy.
He thought as he passed by a reflective window, once again trying to shift his focus away from the massacre that he had caused.

His shirt and shoes had gone missing, and his pants reduced to shreds. He was also drenched from head to toe in blood. Innocent blood.

He fought back the urge to sit down and cry.

At least he had his revolver back. He would be able to control himself now that he had it. He looked at the red revolver that he retrieved from the evidence room. He also found his sword and his Line Transceiver while going through the prisoner’s confiscated items.

I’d better call Al to come get me.

Drake heard a banging sound on the main gate to the prison.

They sure got here fast.
He thought, placing the Line Transceiver back into what was left of his pocket. It would take at least another twenty minutes before an investigative police force would get here to find out why the prison alarms had gone off. On such a small, far out, prison like this one it sometimes took up to four days before the manpower could be spared to investigate.

Maybe Al already figured out which prison I’m in and came to get me.
He thought. It wouldn’t have been the first time that Al picked him up without needing to be called.

Drake walked over to the door controls and flipped the lever to open front gate. He was surprised to see eight V.A.L.O.R. soldiers come running in through the door. And right in the middle of them was the biggest surprise.

“Well if it isn’t Vahn!” Drake yelled out as he walked into the open and straight toward Vahn. Now was not a time to show his weakness. If he was going to get out of here without having to kill any more people, he needed to scare them. They saw the slaughter in front of them, and they needed to believe that he would be willing to do it again. Although it would be a challenge to not let his emotions get the better of him with Vahn’s presence flooding his mind with bitter memories.

Vahn looked around the prison, turning pale as he saw the surrounding carnage. “You look sick Vahn.” Drake continued. “Never seen dead people before?”

“What did you do Drake?” Vahn finally managed to say, moving his eyes away from the gruesome scene before him, and focusing on Drake.

“I killed them. I thought that was fairly obvious.” Drake responded quickly, trying to sound as cold as he could. If they took him to another prison then this same thing would just happen again. He kept a rigid, seemingly unfeeling expression on his face; although in reality his emotions threatened to overwhelm him at any moment.

Vahn broke his gaze and glanced away from Drake, looking around at the dead bodies that littered the ground of the prison, and at the blood splattered on the walls. A disgusted look came to his face, and he immediately made eye contact with Drake again.

“How could you have possibly done this by yourself?” Vahn asked, staring intently at Drake; his grey eyes reflecting the intensity of his emotions.  

“It only took me about twenty minutes.” Drake said as he drew out his revolver, pointing it straight at Vahn’s face. “Now give me a reason not to do the same to you and your friends here.”  

The soldiers all pointed their rifles at Drake, with their fingers ready to pull the trigger.

“You would shoot your own brother?” Vahn asked softly.

“Half-brother.” Drake retorted while pulling back the hammer of his revolver. “And yes, I would.”

“You’re still bitter, aren’t you?” Vahn answered in a disarming tone.

“Nine years Vahn! That’s how long I waited for you. Nine years!” Drake yelled, losing control of his emotions. Hot tears ran from his eyes as he shouted. “And then I had to save myself from that hell hole that you left me to rot in! And when I finally found you after all those years, you tried to arrest me. So yes, I’m still a little bitter.”

Even the thought of Vahn made Drake furious. But having him right here was just overwhelming. These deaths were all because Vahn hadn’t kept his promise. Drake knew that he was rationalizing. These deaths were caused by his own choices, and he knew it. But right now he just didn’t care. He never would have made those choices if Vahn had just done the right thing and saved his own brother instead of becoming a traitor and joining up with the Empire that murdered most of their race.

“I understand that you’re mad,” Vahn started to say.

“Mad doesn’t even begin to cover it.” Drake cut him off. “You have three seconds to give me a reason not to kill you. 1...2...”

“Amnesty.” Vahn yelled out with a slight tremor in his voice. He was actually afraid. Drake actually convinced him that he would kill him. Of course, that shouldn’t be surprising, should it? Vahn betrayed him; he deserved to die, didn’t he?

The prospect was tempting. It would be the only justified murder that Drake had ever committed.

But it would contradict everything he believed.

The executioner is no less guilty than the executed. Only take a life if it is to save another.

The words of Ezra, his former mentor and the closest thing he had to a father figure for most of his childhood. In the end Ezra abandoned Drake just as Vahn had, but Drake couldn’t deny the truth in his words. This confrontation wouldn’t be ending in Vahn’s death.

“You have my attention.” Drake said.

He didn’t care much about getting amnesty from the Human Empire, but it was distracting enough to help him calm down and gain control of his emotions.

“I’m here on direct orders from King Ryker to get you.” Vahn said, regaining his poise. “Two days ago, the royal palace was attacked. One man destroyed our wall, killed hundreds of palace guards, and kidnapped the princess.”

“So you have bad security.” Drake said with a smirk. As much as he disagreed with his actions, the memory of Ezra was helping Drake to calm down, and slip back into acting like his usual sarcastic self. “What does this have to do with me?”

“The man who attacked was an Anti-Luck.” Vahn said.

“And I’m the only one left that can fight him, right?” Drake said, not waiting for Vahn to finish making his pitch. It was obvious that they wanted his help.

“Yes.” Vahn replied. “King Ryker is offering you full forgiveness for all past crimes, along with full citizenship in the human empire, as well as twelve-million denarius.”

“Forgiveness? Only Knune can forgive, Vahn, or did you forget your childhood religion when you decided to become a traitor? And  isn’t it a bit ironic that a man with so much blood on his hands as your king, is offering to forgive me of the blood on my hands?” Drake said.

Vahn sat in silence. He clearly didn’t know how to respond, so Drake continued talking.

“And frankly, I’m insulted that such a rich man would only offer twelve -million denarius for a job like this. What is that in grhars anyway? Like twenty-million? I could make that in a year if I robbed the right people.”

“You want more?” Vahn asked. “Because that can be arranged.”

Drake lowered his gun. The rest of the soldiers slowly lowered theirs as well; although Drake noted that there were now snipers up on the walls who kept their rifles trained on his head. Had they really been able to get snipers set up on those walls without Drake noticing just during his conversation with Vahn? V.A.L.O.R. soldiers were more talented than Drake had been giving them credit for.

“Good,” Vahn continued. “Now what are your terms?”

“I have no terms.” Drake said. “I’m not doing it.” He pulled the trigger of his revolver. Smoke flew out of the barrel, billowing up into the surrounding air completely obscuring the view of the soldiers within fractions of a second. Gun shots rang out from the soldier’s rifles and then quieted down as the smoke cleared. Vahn looked around, shocked at what had just taken place. Drake was nowhere to be seen.

“Our ship!” Vahn yelled out, running out the main gate just in time to see the only transport that could get them out of the prison flying off into space.