Starjammers

Deep in the quadrants of space, the Sectimus freighter starship rockets through the deep silence. The captain of the ship nervously wrapped his fingers on his armrest, watching their progress on the holographic charts before him.

“Captain Ke’doh?”

Ke’doh looked to his navigator, a Kree. He often disdained the fact that the Majestrix allowed these Kree to serve on Shi’ar ships. As far as Ke’doh was concerned, they were all waiting for the opportunity to turn on the Imperium, and allowing them to serve on sensitive transport missions like this was dangerous. “Yes, Leh-Kott?”

“We’ve just passed Rusuua, but we’re still quite a ways from any planets allied with the Imperium,” said Leh-Kott.

Ke’doh sighed. He felt unsafe being so far from the reach of the Imperium and the Superguardians. They had very precious cargo aboard the ship, the likes of which could be very dangerous if it were to fall into the wrong hands.

An alarm sounded on the bridge and Ke’doh turned to the Steersman Ticcul. “What’s going on?”

“We seem to be caught in a stasis field of some sort,” said Ticcul.

Ke’doh tapped a few holograms before him, the projectors now displaying three-dimensional holographic images of the surrounding space. All he saw were uninhabited planets and moons.

“Negative, Steersman,” said Ke’doh. “There are no other ships in this quadrant or the surrounding ones. We’re alone out here.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Captain, but the Sectimus isn’t responding to my commands,” said Ticcul.

Ke’doh pressed a switch on his armrest, activating the ship’s intercom. “This is Captain Ke’doh. All hands prepare for defensive maneuvers. I want the turrets armed and prepared to fire, begin prepping photon torpedoes.”

“Captain, with all due respect, we can’t defend ourselves when we can’t see our attackers,” said Leh-Kott.

“I don’t care!” spat Ke’doh. “This cargo is too important and I want you to be ready for anything! These cowards will have to show themselves soo—”

As if on cue, a transmission came through over the bridge’s speakers. [Ahoy, Sectimus! How are you featherheads doing today?]

“That voice…” said Ke’doh. “Can’t be, not even he would be arrogant enough to dare attack a Shiar freighter…”

[Break out the champagne and the appetizers, you’re about to receive a boarding party,] continued the transmission. [Your cargo, your ship, your very lives now belong to the Starjammers.]

DESTROYER

Part I: A Dishonest Day’s Work

By Dino Pollard

Major Christopher Summers had his feet propped up on the control panel. In one hand, he twirled his blaster around his index finger. His free hand had a button depressed on the armrest of his chair, opening up a transmission channel to the Sectimus.

“If you’re good, you might escape with the latter two intact and unharmed,” he said. “But the former, I’m afraid, we won’t budge on.”

He released the button and swung his legs off, practically jumping to his feet. “Ch’od, we have the autopilot set?”

“Aye, Captain,” said the large, amphibious creature. “Although this would work better if Waldo was operational…”

“Have to do without him from now on, I’m afraid,” said Corsair. “With the pay we’re getting from this mission, hopefully we can either repair or replace him.”

Corsair referred to the Starjammer’s artificial intelligence, damaged almost beyond repair. He drew his rapier and looked at the other two members of his crew. One was a man with cybernetic enhancements, holding a rapier in each hand. The other was a feline-like woman covered in white fur and holding a blaster rifle in her hands—Hepzibah, his consort.

“We all set to go?” asked Corsair.

“Ready are we,” said Hepzibah. “Show those little birdies, we will.”

Corsair grimaced a bit at Hepzibah’s comment. Not only because Raza himself was of the Shi’ar, but because Corsair wanted to maintain a decent relationship with the Shi’ar Imperium. This job strain things enough with Lilandra and he didn’t want Hepzibah to make things worse by vivisecting any of the Majestrix’s minions.

The four pirates made their way to the transporter deck. A small, helicopter-like thing hovered over them.

“Sikorsky, prep the medical bay,” said Corsair. “I don’t expect we’ll need it, but you can never be too careful.”

“Roger that, Captain,” said the small helicopter before flying off.

“Okay Starjammers…” began Corsair. “Let’s rock and roll.”

Hala

At one point, this planet was the capital of the Kree Empire. A vicious, militaristic race, the Kree had the potential to conquer the universe. However, they were eventually defeated and the remains of their empire fell under the rule of Majestrix Lilandra Nermani, Lux Gloriana of the Shi’ar Imperium. Her sister, Cal’Syee Nermani—or Deathbird—was left to rule over Hala.

She has since abandoned that post. And Lilandra has yet to appoint an appropriate Viceroy as a replacement.

Which meant Hala was mostly run by the local governments. Different territories with different leaders. Some benevolent, some vicious. Every day, you had to watch your back, not sure what would happen next.

Of course, one of Hala’s newest denizens doesn’t mind that even a little. On the contrary, he actually enjoys it.

“Gimme another,” he said, slamming the empty glass on the counter. His hand was small, so the shot seemed far larger when in his paw.

“I think you’ve had enough,” said the bartender. “Little guy like you can’t handle anymore.”

“Hey, you listen t’ me, buddy,” said the anthropomorphic raccoon. “No one cuts off ol’ Rocket, you got me?”

“Yeah well in my bar, I make the rules,” said the bartender. He pointed a blue finger right in the raccoon’s face. “You’re lucky I’m even serving an alien freak like you.”

Rocket hopped onto the counter and grabbed the bartender by his shirt, pulling him down to eye-level. Rocket drew a blaster and pointed it at the bartender’s head. “You wanna run that by me again? I don’t think I heard you so well the first time.”

“He called you a freak, furball,” said one of the other customers. Him and two other customers stood. All were Kree. Rocket released his grip on the bartender and turned to his new challenges.

“You’re not welcome here,” said another customer.

“That so?” asked Rocket. He raised his gun at the three men. “You guys really wanna cross me?”

Each of the three men drew their own blasters and the bartender drew an energy rifle from under the bar. All of them trained their weapons on Rocket. The raccoon narrowed his beady eyes. “Four on one, not exactly a fair fight.”

“You picked it,” said the bartender.

“Alright, suit yourselves,” said Rocket. He leaped from the counter and the men opened fire, but Rocket moved too quickly. Grabbing onto one of the hanging light fixtures, Rocket swung from it before he released the wire. He twisted in the air, firing off a blast and taking out one of the customers.

Rocket landed on the shoulders of another, clasping his hands over the man’s eyes.

“GET HIM OFF!” shouted the Kree.

Rocket leaped off the man’s shoulders and activated his boot jets just temporarily. When he shut them off, he flipped back around and landed at the foot of his stool, where a bag almost as big as him lay. Rocket opened it and produced a large gun, almost like a cannon with a turret at one end. He turned on the weapon and it hummed to life, energy crackling around the barrels. The remaining two customers and the bartender instantly dropped their weapons.

“Now then…” said Rocket. “How about that drink?”

Sectimus Shi’ar Freighter
Rusuua Quadrant

Four energy signatures appeared on the bridge of the Sectimus. They quickly formed into four beings, each one starkly different from the other. One was a Terran, with brown hair that was beginning to show signs of graying and a goatee. He wore a red and black uniform, armed with a blaster pistol and a rapier.

One of his companions was Shi’ar, or at least was before his body had been grafted with cybernetic enhancements. Like his captain, he wielded a rapier and a blaster pistol.

The only female in the group was of Mephitisoid descent. She had white fur and hair as well as a tail, dressed in red and yellow and wielding an energy rifle.

The fourth and final was a hulking brute, a Saurid of Timor, who held no weapon. He grinned with his sharp, fanged teeth at the crew of the Sectimus and they backed off.

The Terran stepped forward and pointed the tip of his sword at Ke’doh. “I assume you know who we are?” he asked.

“I do,” said Ke’doh. “And you’ve just signed your death warrant, Corsair. The Majestrix may have overlooked your transgressions in the past, but this time, you go too far. This cargo is far too crucial.”

Corsair offered a sly grin in response. “If this cargo was so valuable, there would be at least one Superguardian with you. Since there’s not, I assume you’re full of shit.”

“There was supposed to be, but the Imperial Honor Guard was called to manage a crisis on Centauri IV,” said Ke’doh.

Corsair shrugged. “Good news for us, bad news for you.”

“You’re a fool, Corsair,” said Ke’doh. “You have no idea what you may unleash upon the universe.”

“I’ve been around too long and I’ve been across too many galaxies to be scared by cryptic bull,” said Corsair. “Hepzibah, check out the cargo. Raza and Ch’od, keep your eyes open.”

“Why Hepzibah and not Ch’od?” asked the Mephitisoid. “Strength Ch’od has. What do if heavy cargo is?”

“I don’t recall telling you to move anything, just find it,” said Corsair without taking his eyes off Ke’doh. “You know the reason why you’re on cargo duty.”

“Hepzibah disembowling little birdies, Corsair fears,” she said.

“That’s right, I want this to be a bloodless mission,” said Corsair. “Now move.”

Hepzibah scurried through the doors, searching through the ship. Once she departed, Ke’doh smiled slightly and let out a soft chuckle. Corsair pressed the tip of his sword against Ke’doh’s neck and the captain took a step back.

“Did I make a joke, Captain?” asked Corsair.

“No, you are a joke,” said Ke’doh. “Terran bodies aren’t as durable as other races, are they? The gray hairs, the restraint… you’re aging. How long have you been doing this? Twenty of your Earth years? The old Corsair wouldn’t have given a second thought to taking the entire cargo and slaughtering everyone on board.”

“Actually…” said Corsair, applying more pressure to the blade and drawing a drop of blood from Ke’doh’s neck. “…I’m only trying to spare your lives because I happen to have a soft spot for the Majestrix. She used to be one of us, you know. We helped her overthrow D’Ken. But if you give me any trouble, Captain, I won’t hesitate to kill you right here, right now.”

“And what do you think will happen to your friendship with the Lux Gloriana if you steal from her?” asked Ke’doh.

“If it becomes a problem, then I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”

“When,” said Ke’doh. “When it becomes a problem, not if.”

“Mine Captain,” said Raza.

“What is it?” asked Corsair.

“Methinks something be amiss,” said Raza. “Security far too light.”

“Agreed,” said Ch’od. “Even without Superguardians, their security should be tighter.”

“What’s the story, Ke’doh?” asked Corsair. “Why is security so light on this ship?”

“Who said it was?” asked Ke’doh. “The minute you announced your presence, we had sentries prepped.”

“Sentries?” Corsair raised an eyebrow.

The doors opened and several robots armed with blaster rifles stood in the doorway. Corsair instantly moved behind Ke’doh, wrapping the arm which held his sword around Ke’doh’s neck and using his free hand to point his blaster at the Shi’ar man’s head.

“Starjammers, scatter!” shouted Corsair.

Watching Ch’od in battle never ceased to amaze Corsair. Despite the Saurid’s appearance, he was a very gentle creature, highly intelligent and extremely sociable. But in battle, Ch’od let his actions reflect his looks. Despite his massive size, he was second only to Hepzibah with his speed and his strength was awe-inspiring.

Ch’od demonstrated that as he dodged several laser bursts extremely nimbly before charging for the sentries. He grabbed one of them, tearing the metal creature into two separate halves. He hurled the top half at a sentry who fired at him. The bottom half he used as a bat, swinging it by the legs and taking off the head of another sentry.

That wasn’t to disparage Raza, of course. Although Ch’od was easily the strongest and Hepzibah the quickest (and perhaps most vicious), Raza had them both beat in terms of sheer skill. His cybernetics gave him added advantages of an uncanny aim, meaning he almost never missed. His skill with a blade was legendary in the universe, very few beings could match him in a one-on-one sword fight.

Raza leaped over the sentries. He landed behind them and sliced off the head of one with his rapier. Quickly, Raza spun and fired a blaster at another, blowing a hole through its face. Raza elbowed a third with his cybernetic arm. At such close range, it was hard for the sentries to gain ground on the cyborg, but he was able to move quickly, reducing them to scrap.

“Some security you’ve got here, Ke’doh,” said Corsair. “Just what exactly did you expect would happen?”

“Gloat all you want, Corsair,” said Ke’doh. “Yet during this entire battle, you’ve hid behind me like the feeble old man you are while your minions do your fighting for you. You’ve become a coward.”

“Okay, I’ve had just about enough of you,” said Corsair. He released Ke’doh just long enough for him to pistol-whip him and the Shi’ar captain fell to the ground, unconscious. Corsair pointed his sword at Ticcul.

“Steersman, you gonna give me any trouble?”

Ticcul frantically shook his head. Corsair pointed his gun at another crew member. “What about you?” Summers received the same response. “Smart men, you live longer that way.”

[Corsair, found something I have.]

Corsair heard the voice of Hepzibah through his earpiece. “You didn’t run into any trouble?”

[No,] she responded.

“Good,” said Corsair. “Go ahead, babe. We ready to get out of here?”

[Corsair, bargained for more than bought, we did.]

“What are you talking about?” asked Corsair. “Hepzibah, what did you find?”

Hepzibah stood in front of a stasis chamber. Laying in there, completely unconscious, was the form of a large, green man dressed in a purple costume. She recognized the being by his reputation.

“The cargo, Drax the Destroyer it is.”

 

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