Annals of the Keepers: War 267 (Book 1 in the Gashnee Saga) by Christiaan Hile, Benjamin Halkett Page A
Authors: Christiaan Hile, Benjamin Halkett
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down the hall while still keeping a steel-tight edge with the blade to the other. With a wave of the knife towards the hall, the pudgy Kryth, now dazed, removed himself from the presence of Lintorth and scurried down the corridor and out of sight.
Lintorth turned and entered the bridge. The door swished open.
A small bridge lay before him; he noted how feeble it was compared to the awesome sight of a Legion Flag battle bridge. Two consoles flanked each side of the walls, which were wider than the breadth of the doorway he entered. Only four crewmembers monitored the ship’s readouts to their fronts, doing their monotonous duties and ignoring the Kryth soldier’s presence, on purpose.
On one monitor, he noticed the ship’s course was headed to Drekka 7 , a mining colony whose surface was pocketed with precious itar ore deposits. It seemed the captain of this tub was engaged on a supply run for the colony, profitable without a doubt. Unfortunately, the captain and his ship were travelling the opposite direction Lintorth had to go.
Up in front of a viewing window was a large ornate chair with lavish jewels and ornaments imbedded in its metal surface, which sat elevated above the rest of the room.
The chair swiveled around. There sat the fat captain of this vessel.
Lintorth’s eyebrow peaked as he observed the cushion this over-weight captain perched himself upon; it was upholstered in the crimson red material from his cape.
The chubby thighs lifted themselves off the pad with a breathless grunt, as if some worren beast was giving birth, Lintorth thought.
The captain of the Selkon’s Drift spoke.
“Who authorized your entrance to my bridge? I did not,” the chubby captain lumbered down the few steps of his self-ordained throne.” No one called you to me, soldier of the Domain. Now get off my bridge before I have you shot.” He finished wiping the bits of drool from around his mouth.
“It is vital I communicate with Dranneous Kor to report an invasion of Kryth territory, Captain. I do not wish to take this ship by military law unless I have to.” Lintorth stared straight into the captain’s eyes to reassure his host that he was serious of his request and intent.
The fat captain chuckled.
“Ha! You threaten me. Who are you? You would be no one if I didn’t stop to pick up your life-pod in the transport lane circles ago. Do not threaten me, pata . This is not a military ship and you have no authority here. Now, get off my bridge.” The captain snapped his finger to signal one of his crew.
The crewmember emerged from his seat, and with the sound of metal against leather, pulled his holstered weapon towards Lintorth.
The aim never came.
A flash of blade made contact with the poised arm of the crew member, who attempted to obey his captain’s order.
Blood shot forth from the severed hand as it made its way to the floor. The maimed owner writhed in pain as he doubled over, clutching the stump at his wrist.
Shouts issued from the rest of the crew watching the scene unfolded as they left their seats.
“What’s he doing?”
“This isn’t a military ship.”
“What the…”
Before the fat and past-his-prime captain could pull his own blade, Lintorth was on him twisting the pudgy arm, spinning the slug, and slamming his face with a grunt into the cushion of his own chair.
Lintorth issued a warning in case any of the remaining crew had some bold streak left in them.
“I am taking command of this ship by the order of the Si Lord who has given me full authorization in security matters of the Domain.” He glanced around looking for any disapproval but found none. “Now back to your posts, scum!”
The crew fumbled over each other trying to get back to their stations.
Lintorth motioned towards the missing-limbed crewmember on the floor. “I want you to set course for the Dranneous Kor system. Now!”
With a slip in his own blood, the crewmember
Lintorth turned and entered the bridge. The door swished open.
A small bridge lay before him; he noted how feeble it was compared to the awesome sight of a Legion Flag battle bridge. Two consoles flanked each side of the walls, which were wider than the breadth of the doorway he entered. Only four crewmembers monitored the ship’s readouts to their fronts, doing their monotonous duties and ignoring the Kryth soldier’s presence, on purpose.
On one monitor, he noticed the ship’s course was headed to Drekka 7 , a mining colony whose surface was pocketed with precious itar ore deposits. It seemed the captain of this tub was engaged on a supply run for the colony, profitable without a doubt. Unfortunately, the captain and his ship were travelling the opposite direction Lintorth had to go.
Up in front of a viewing window was a large ornate chair with lavish jewels and ornaments imbedded in its metal surface, which sat elevated above the rest of the room.
The chair swiveled around. There sat the fat captain of this vessel.
Lintorth’s eyebrow peaked as he observed the cushion this over-weight captain perched himself upon; it was upholstered in the crimson red material from his cape.
The chubby thighs lifted themselves off the pad with a breathless grunt, as if some worren beast was giving birth, Lintorth thought.
The captain of the Selkon’s Drift spoke.
“Who authorized your entrance to my bridge? I did not,” the chubby captain lumbered down the few steps of his self-ordained throne.” No one called you to me, soldier of the Domain. Now get off my bridge before I have you shot.” He finished wiping the bits of drool from around his mouth.
“It is vital I communicate with Dranneous Kor to report an invasion of Kryth territory, Captain. I do not wish to take this ship by military law unless I have to.” Lintorth stared straight into the captain’s eyes to reassure his host that he was serious of his request and intent.
The fat captain chuckled.
“Ha! You threaten me. Who are you? You would be no one if I didn’t stop to pick up your life-pod in the transport lane circles ago. Do not threaten me, pata . This is not a military ship and you have no authority here. Now, get off my bridge.” The captain snapped his finger to signal one of his crew.
The crewmember emerged from his seat, and with the sound of metal against leather, pulled his holstered weapon towards Lintorth.
The aim never came.
A flash of blade made contact with the poised arm of the crew member, who attempted to obey his captain’s order.
Blood shot forth from the severed hand as it made its way to the floor. The maimed owner writhed in pain as he doubled over, clutching the stump at his wrist.
Shouts issued from the rest of the crew watching the scene unfolded as they left their seats.
“What’s he doing?”
“This isn’t a military ship.”
“What the…”
Before the fat and past-his-prime captain could pull his own blade, Lintorth was on him twisting the pudgy arm, spinning the slug, and slamming his face with a grunt into the cushion of his own chair.
Lintorth issued a warning in case any of the remaining crew had some bold streak left in them.
“I am taking command of this ship by the order of the Si Lord who has given me full authorization in security matters of the Domain.” He glanced around looking for any disapproval but found none. “Now back to your posts, scum!”
The crew fumbled over each other trying to get back to their stations.
Lintorth motioned towards the missing-limbed crewmember on the floor. “I want you to set course for the Dranneous Kor system. Now!”
With a slip in his own blood, the crewmember
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