Galactic Gale

Chapter Thirty-Four

Crashing The King

Kael hurtled into Kallhan's back, Amara yelling crude names as she clutched the Fellen's front.

They slid together down the bay, the Rapid shrinking into the distance. The landing bay had not felt so big when Kael had walked across it. Now, as he fell towards the outstretched arms and flashing blasters of the King's crew, the bay felt larger than Uterca's main street.

"Box!" Amara warned.

Catching sight of the container at the last moment and barring his teeth, Kael knocked against the sharp corner of the box. The metal container continued to hang from its harness intended to keep it secure for circumstances just like this, even when Kael and his companions were long past, their hands failing to find a hold.

"This one," Kael called to Amara. Another box was closing – fast. If they could get themselves onto its top and hold the position, Cyre or one of the others might be able to throw them a rope.

The box slammed into them. Amara took the brunt of the pain, her torso bent over the edge, but she did not waste any time catching her breath. With little help from Kael, she pulled Kallhan onto the makeshift platform and pinned him down.

"We should just shoot him and be done with it," she snarled.

Hesitating, Kael bit his lower lip. "That's not our style. We will take him to Nona. The Utercian authorities - the Celestial Watch, even."

"But that's not our style," Amara repeated. Glancing at Kael, she leaned back from Kallhan and checked their standing. Blasts raged from below and the Rapid was now far above. They would not be able to run back to the ship.

"I don't suppose Cyre would be able to bring the Rapid to us," Kael tried.

"Not enough space. The walls are narrower at this end. The Rapid would have to lose a wing to get us." Amara peered over the side and sighed. "If we go down, we won't meet a nice end. Those boys are gun happy."

"We're all going to die, just like my homeland. Slowly and because of nothing but the blind actions of the ignorant," Kallhan spat.

"Don't speak," Kael snapped. Anger swarmed inside him, breaking from his frustration at their situation. "We can change our minds about shooting you. Don't try to spur that change."

"Shoot me and spare me the pain of waiting for death on this crate."

Amara pressed her blaster under his chin and Kallhan clamped his lips shut. Apparently, he was not keen to die, regardless of his bold words. That would more than work to Amara and Kael's advantage. The desire to stay alive would overpower his longing to fight them.

The Rapid's engines fired up. A soft breeze tickled Kael's chin and he arched away from the warmth. If Cyre took off and left them here, they would never find a means of escaping.

"Your friends are departing," Kallhan tutted, his last word ending sharply as Amara adjusted her blaster.

To have been able to correct the Fellen would have made Kael's day – perhaps even his year – but Kallhan was right. Cyre had made the decision to take off. It was too much of a risk to keep the ship in the bay any longer. At least she could keep the crew alive.

Their abandonment registered with Kallhan, his eyes narrowing. There would be no rescue from his enemies. Kael and Amara had no means of getting to safety and his own people below seemed in no way bothered about saving him. With his cruiser falling apart, Kallhan had just as little options as Kael and Amara did.