“Wow.” The boy responded, “Hearing you say it, that line sounds cocky and conceited. You should have said it the same way I did; you know, with a nicer more sincere tone, then it would’ve been a little better.”

  “Who exactly are you?” Angela asked, hoping she hadn’t offended the boy with her quick responses.

  “Drake Ashbell.” He replied. “And you are?”

  “Angela Fisher.” She said. “But my name isn’t going to matter much to you if you don’t help us out right now. So are you going to save us or not?”

  “I might if you say please.” Drake said.

  “Please.” Angela said flatly.

  “I hope your ‘thank you’ is more sincere than your ‘please’ was.” Drake said as he walked back to the place where he had fallen, holstered his gun, and jumped up grabbing onto the poorly constructed wooden frame that held up the canvas roof, and pulled himself out through the hole he had made.

  I don’t understand what just happened, Angela thought to herself, but I sure hope this guy knows what he’s doing.

  ********************************

  I have no idea what I’m doing, Drake thought to himself as he tried to crawl his way across the canvas roof of the slave cart.

  There’s no room for them on the ship, he thought, what am I going to do with them after I get them out of this cart?

  He paused for a moment, looking down at the city that they were fast approaching. The cities of the Mystics’ planets were so interesting to see. Most of the buildings were constructed from bricks and mud, and some of them even still had straw roofs. In stark contrast to the poorly constructed hovels that surrounded it, were the giant metal towers and concrete landing pads that made up the spaceport in the center of the city. It wasn’t quite as magnificent as the spaceports on the human worlds, since it was made entirely of old stolen parts from the Human Empire’s outdated technology, but it was still quite an impressive sight. His vision trailed from the spaceport to the slums at the edge of the town where most of the population lived.

  I know where I can put them! He suddenly realized. He shifted his weight on the shaky wooden frame so he could reach into his pocket and pull out his Line Transceiver. On the Mystic planets, technology like that was strictly forbidden; however, most of his criminal contacts here ignored the prohibition. He dialed a number and waited.

  “Drake!” a voice answered all too loudly through the receiver, “Are you calling to finally settle your debt with me?”

  Eijhur take me! Drake thought, I forgot. I owe him money.

  “Of course I am!” Drake said, “Listen, I’ve got some people that need to stay in your smuggling house for a few days. When I come to pick them up, I’ll pay you what I owe plus a little extra for your troubles.”

  “Fine,” the voice on the other end said, “But I’m not feeding them while they’re here. So you’d better show up fast.”

  “Deal,” Drake said, “They’ll be in a slave cart with a hole in the top at the east entrance of the spaceport, in about ten minutes. Make sure you pick them up!”

  “What!?” the outraged voice exclaimed, “That’s not going to be easy if there’s anyone chasing them and since it’s you making the call, I’m assuming there’s a chase happening.”

  “I trust you to get it done,” Drake said.

  “I’d better get my money,” the voice threatened.

  “See you in ten minutes!” Drake yelled as he hung up the phone and stuffed it back in his pocket.

  Now it’s time to free those girls. He thought as he began his awkward crawl over the worn out canvas again.

  The things I do for a pretty face. He thought as he reached the edge and saw the giant man driving the cart with another monster of a man sitting next to him with the keys to the girls’ chains hanging on his waist.

  Here goes nothing, he thought as he jumped down, leg extended, hitting the driver in the head and knocking him off the side of the carriage. He turned in time for the other man’s fist to make contact with his stomach. He doubled over in pain. Those girls had better appreciate this. He looked up to find the large man moving to deliver a kick to his chest. Moving much faster than the big man had expected, Drake dove under his raised leg, stood up behind the confused man, gave a solid push to his back, and knocked him over the edge of the carriage. The man reached out his arms as he fell; grasping at anything to stop his impending fall. He barely grabbed onto the end of the carriage before hitting the ground.

  “Help me!” he yelled, “I don’t want to die!” Drake walked over to the edge and looked down at the screaming man. To the man’s surprise, Drake grabbed his hand.

  “Don’t make me do all the work! You can help a little too,” he said as he pulled the man back up onto the carriage. The two men stood up and faced each other.

  “Why did you help me?” the man asked.

  “I needed your keys.” Drake said casually as he pulled the key ring off of the other man’s belt, and preceded to, once again, push the big man off the edge of the carriage. “Don’t worry!” Drake yelled as he watched the man fall to the ground. “Even at this speed, I doubt a four foot drop will kill you!” The man screamed a chain of profanity from his landing place in the dirt road as the carriage sped away.

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

  Angela bit her lip nervously. She was feeling frantic about what would become of her and the other prisoners in the carriage as she heard the commotion up at the front. She wasn’t sure if she should be comforted or worried when the sounds of fighting finally stopped. She had seen the size of the two men driving the carriage. She doubted Drake’s ability to win that fight; especially since they had the power of the Mystics. Drake would win if he used the bizarre revolver he was carrying, but Angela hadn’t heard a single gunshot the entire time. To her surprise, Drake returned through the back of the carriage throwing the keys onto the bench next to her, barely close enough for her to reach.

  “We’re changing drivers!” he announced, “Do what he tells you. I’ll be back for you in a few days!”

  “What kind of rescue is this?” Nora asked, worried.

  “I have no idea.” Angela responded, “But that guy seems like a complete lunatic.”

  Although he is pretty heroic, she admitted to herself as the carriage sped away from wherever it was they had stopped.

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

  Well that should be a good distraction, Drake thought as he entered the spaceport, Most of the soldiers will chase that carriage for a while and leave me alone. It should be smooth sailing from here.

  Drake meshed in with the crowd and started making his way toward the security booth.

  “What’s your reason for getting off planet?” the old woman at the desk asked as Drake presented his fake passport.

  “I’m going to visit my sick mother.”

  “Well isn't that nice” the woman responded, but then paused for a moment as she glanced up at a piece of paper hung up nearby. Drake shifted his gaze to view the paper as well, and found a very well-drawn sketch of his face with the word Wanted written above it.

  “My mother,” Drake said. “You know; the one who is deathly ill, the one I’m on my way to visit. She says I look exactly the same as him. I’m not sure I see it, but I do wish I looked that good. That guy is one handsome devil, am I right?”

  “Guards!” the old woman screamed at the top of her lungs.

  “Dang it, I really hoped this would be easy,” Drake said under his breath as he whipped out his pistol and sent four large fireballs flying through the air toward the approaching guards. The crowds screamed as Drake broke through the security station and ran toward the boarding platforms. Guards swarmed behind him as he made his way to a large empty platform, stopping to stare off the edge.

  “Stop! We have you surrounded!” a man who looked as if he must be the leader of the spaceport security team yelled at him.

  “Good work,” Drake said sarcastically, “Make sure you tell your boss how easily you caught me. You may get a promotion.” He paused as he glanced over the edge again and smiled, “Or maybe you won’t.” He leapt off of the edge. The guards all ran toward the edge to see what had caused him to jump. They were all knocked over by the thrust of a lifting spaceship as it passed them on its way up.

  “Better luck next time on the promotion!” Drake yelled from his perch on the wing of the ship then turned to enter through a hatch on the side of the hull as the ship sped away toward outer space.

  Inside the ship, Drake found the familiar sight of his crew, all of them congratulating him on a job well done. The crew's cheers went silent, however, as they noticed a monstrous figure in the doorway. He stood about seven and a half feet tall with a head that looked more like a wolf’s than a man’s. Thick brown hair covered his muscular body, and great leathery wings sprouted from his back. He took a step toward Drake, his clawed feet somehow hitting the ground without making a sound. He dragged his long spike-tipped tail along the ground as he came closer and closer to where Drake was standing.

  “Al!” Drake yelled out, recognizing the first officer of his crew, “Did you see how cool that jump was! I think ‘picturesque’ would be a good word to describe it. And I totally nailed the landing! Plus the looks on those guards’ faces were priceless! We should’ve taken a picture.”

  “I don’t think you should be so cavalier Captain. Your life was in serious danger.” Al responded in a surprisingly sophisticated upper class accent; the words formed perfectly, despite him only making slight movements with his wolf-like snout.

  “Oh come on, Al. I had it under control. You know, one of these days I’m going to get you to enjoy these heists,” Drake said casually.

  “I find that unlikely.” Al replied, “Did you even get what you were after? I can’t help noticing that your hands are empty.”

  “My hands maybe, but not my pockets,” Drake replied, with a grin on his face as he removed a folded piece of paper from his front pant pocket and held it up for Al to see.

  Chapter 4: Olivia

  Olivia woke up confused, and in pain. She tried to get up and look around, but found that despite her best efforts, her arms and legs wouldn’t move.

  Where am I? She thought. A feeling of panic rose in her chest. She glanced down and found that she was bound to a reclining chair by some kind of leather restraint. A needle and tubing protruded from her arm, drawing out her blood and depositing it in a bag that hung on a pole nearby.

  Why is my blood being drawn? Am I in some kind of hospital? She thought frantically as she strained to remember how she had arrived in this place.

  The image of her kidnapper’s soulless, blood red, eyes flashed through her mind. She remembered it all; the attack, the soldiers killed by the tip of her kidnapper’s cold, steel sword. After all the death, the attacker had somehow teleported away with her. How had he done that? Olivia had never heard of teleportation being possible. However it was that her attacker had done it, it was painful. Olivia remembered trying to scream from the pain, but being unable, and then, suddenly, finding herself somewhere else. She had passed out before she could figure out exactly where she had been taken to, but now that she was awake, she felt determined to find out.

  She was in a small room that looked to be made mostly of metal, with little furnishing aside from the chair she was sitting in. Her eyes widened in panic as they returned to the needle and tubing protruding from her arm.

  Why is he taking my blood? She thought. What if that’s not the only thing he wants from me?

  Despite her attempts to hold them back, tears welled up in her eyes as she pondered the terrible things her captor would be capable of doing to her.

  “Stop crying,” A voice came from the doorway of the room, “I find it quite irritating.” Olivia turned to find the source of the voice. The tears flowed faster as her worst fears were confirmed. The assailant from the night before stood ominously in the doorway, staring at her with unfeeling red eyes.

  “Where am I? What do you want with me?” Olivia choked out between sobs.

  “You are on my ship, and all I want is for you to remain silent while I take your blood.” he said in a nonchalant voice.

  “My blood? That’s what you took me for? Why would you want my...”

  “That’s my business,” the man cut her off mid-sentence, “Now, before you irritate me any further, you should know that murder has never weighed down my conscience the way it does for most; and my temper has been rather short as of late. So staying silent would be in your best interests.”

  Something about the way he spoke told Olivia that he really would deliver on his threat; so she remained in silence despite the endless list of questions flying through her head.

  “You’ve made the right choice,” her captor said, as he removed the bag containing her drawn blood. He unclipped the restraints that had been holding her down.

  “Don’t try to escape. I’ll bring you food and water twice a day,” he said, showing absolutely no emotion, as he turned to leave the room.

  “Thank you...” Olivia said.

  “Don’t speak,” he said, cutting her off again. Olivia thought she heard just the slightest bit of hesitation in his voice, but then he snapped back to his harsh tone.

  “I still have no reservations about ending you.”

  With that, he left through the large, sliding, metal door at the front of the room. Olivia heard the heavy metal locks click into place as the door closed behind him.

  She was alone again.

  His last words to her before leaving had been a threat, but Olivia had not imagined the hesitation in his voice. He didn’t want to hurt her. Maybe he didn’t even want to kidnap her. He’d mentioned an employer. Who could have the means to make this man to do something he didn’t seem to want to do? And what could they want with Olivia’s blood?

  Olivia sat waiting, hoping the man would come back and somehow, give her answers to her questions. But he didn’t return and Olivia was left alone to wonder what was going on and just how long she would be stuck here.

  Chapter 5: Vahn

  There’s no way to find him. Vahn thought, exasperated with his lack of options. Finding Drake had proven to be a harder task than he had anticipated. If he found Drake it would be his big chance to make himself into someone that really mattered. He would no longer be just a second-class immigrant; he would be an asset to the Empire. All the sergeants who had put him on the worst duties because “his kind couldn’t be trusted,” and all the review boards that had denied him well deserved promotions because of his “questionable origins” would finally see that he was worth just as much as any full Human soldier, if not more. But all of his visions of fair treatment were fading fast as it became more and more apparent that Drake was nowhere to be found.

  The screen on Vahn’s desk suddenly blared to life displaying the words “Incoming Call” in bold letters. It was his secretary calling. Vahn still couldn’t believe he had his own secretary to take calls for him. He hadn’t expected to make it to a position like this for at least another ten years.

  Vahn hit the accept call button on the screen. Just as he had expected, the brown eyes, and overly makeup-covered face of Erica, his new secretary, appeared on the screen.

  “Captain Brooks is here to see you, sir.” She said in an official voice.

  Brooks always had a way of calming Vahn down. When they served together on the frontlines they’d seen hundreds of their fellow soldiers fall in battle and somehow still mustered up the strength to go on. Vahn never could have dealt with the stress of war without Brooks there to help him through it. A talk with him right now would go a long way to calm his nerves.

  “Send him in.” Vahn replied.

  “Right away, sir.” Erica responded. The screen returned to black. Moments later, the doors opened and the familiar figure of Captain Brooks, dressed in his red and white palace guard armor, strode in. By reflex, Vahn snapped to attention and gave Brooks a rigid salute.

  “You don’t have to salute me anymore, Vahn.” Brooks said. “You’re on the king’s council now, I should be saluting you. But since you and I both have the title of captain, that’s not going to happen unless a superior officer happens to be looking.”

  “Feeling a little bitter, Brooks?” Vahn asked, a smile forming on his face as he slid out of his attentive position and dropped his salute.

  “Me? Bitter?” Brooks replied with his usual playful grin, “This way we’ll both get the same captain’s salary, but you’ll do twice as much work. If anybody should be bitter, it should be you.”

  “Actually,” Vahn replied as he reached for his desk and picked up a memo he received earlier with the words “Department of Finance” printed at the top of it. “According to this, I actually get a 25% pay raise above captain’s salary for being a council member.”

  “Only 25%?” Brooks replied, “For doing twice the work? You’re still getting the short end of that deal. But I should probably give you a beating for trying to rub your big pay check in my face.”

  “You would strike a superior officer?” Vahn asked, his grin growing even wider.

  “If you make one more comment about you being a superior officer, then I may just have to accept the court martial that would come along with me smashing your smug little face.” Brooks said.

  Vahn couldn’t help but laugh. “What brings you by anyway?” he asked.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Brooks said, “I want to know what I can do to help you out. Do you have any idea how you’re going to do...whatever it is the king wants you to do?”

  “So you’re saying you came here to pump me for information about what we talked about in the council meeting then?” Vahn replied.

  “Can you blame me?” Brooks asked. “I’ve always wanted to know what they talk about in there and now I have a friend that can actually tell me. It’s a perfect opportunity for me.”

  Obviously he couldn’t share top secret information; not even with his only close friend. What was Brooks thinking?