Death Drop

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Authors: Sean Allen

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Death Drop

The D-Evolution: Book One

Sean Allen

 

Published by Vintage Six Media

www.vintagesixmedia.com

 

Copyright 2011 Sean Allen

 

ISBN: 978-0-9832840-8-6

 

For a behind-the-scenes look at
Death Drop
and the D-Evolution Universe, go to
www.devolutionnovels.com
and explore character illustrations, bios, author information, news, and more.

 

Electronic Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other individuals, groups, or organizations. If you would like to share this book with others, please purchase the appropriate number of additonal copies for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please return to
www.devolutionnovels.com
and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

 

This title is also available in print at
www.devolutionnovels.com
.

 

 

 

Acknowledgments

Before I launch into my thanks, for which much is owed, I would like to dedicate this book to you, dear reader. If you enjoy reading this adventure even a fraction as much as I have enjoyed writing it, then you and I will both be very satisfied.

 

My heartfelt thanks are owed to:

 

Marina: a life lived with you is the greatest adventure.

 

Mom and Kathy, who have always been there for me.

 

Pops for instilling in me a passion for life.

 

My broheim for his friendship and keeping me up-to-date on all that’s geek chic.

 

Cody and Scott for their invaluable feedback and critiques.

 

Amy Simso-Dean and Kendra Riemermann for their exceptional editing and writing advice.

 

Matt Dixon for his wonderful personality and masterful character illustrations.

 

Don Schaeffer for his brilliant graphic design talents and book cover savvy.

 

The cats; may they report to the gods that we are treating them well.

 

 

Table of Contents

 

Title Page

Acknowledgments

Prologue

Chapter 1: Ghost Ship

Chapter 2: Commitments

Chapter 3: Dark Stranger

Chapter 4: Hope and Despair

Chapter 5: Enemies

Chapter 6: Dark Revelation

Chapter 7: Malo’s Lament

Chapter 8: Tasks Owed

Chapter 9: Wretched Army

Chapter 10: Sad Occasion

Chapter 11: The Dark General

Chapter 12: A Plan of Attack

Chapter 13: Sounds of Doom

Chapter 14: Ascent

Chapter 15: God of War

Chapter 16: Friend or Foe

Chapter 17: Sacrifice

Chapter 18: Secrets

Chapter 19: Lonely

Chapter 20: Rilek and the Lodestar

Chapter 21: Half Truth

Chapter 22: The Great Gate

Chapter 23: Bizarre Bazaar

Chapter 24: Kings and Pawns

Chapter 25: Damnation

Chapter 26: Massacre

Chapter 27: Coup

Chapter 28: Seeing and Believing

Chapter 29: Death of a Soldier

Chapter 30: Clipped Wings

Chapter 31: Shattered Stone

Interlude

Chapter 32: Time to Run

Chapter 33: Doubt, No Doubt

Chapter 34: Strange Veil

Chapter 35: The Triton

Chapter 36: Eyes of the Betrayer

Chapter 37: Flight of The Firebug

Chapter 38: Revenant

Chapter 39: A Voice in the Dark

Chapter 40: Masquerades

Chapter 41: Puzzling

Chapter 42: The Train Man’s Ticket

Chapter 43: The Jeweled Calaboose

Chapter 44: The Deceiver

Chapter 45: Shift Change

Chapter 46: Monsters

Chapter 47: Exile

Epilogue

Prologue

 

T
he universe was dying. The Durax, a vile race of creatures, had come to rule by an ability they used with unrelenting malice—mind powers. Their wicked craft divided their species into horrid castes based on their mental potency and the self-inflicted mutilation that came with it. An individual Durax’s capacity for telepathy, mental torture, telekinesis, and mind control determined his place in The Order and his usefulness to its wretched overlord—King Helekoth. Because of their incomparable abilities, the Durax believed it was their destiny to reign over all life. With the help of their cruel gift, they swept through the stars, ravaging planets and enslaving entire species. But there were those who fought them.

The Mewlatai, a warrior race with a strict code of honor, had been battling the Durax for millennia. Armed with a unique immunity to Durax mind powers, deadly Kaiten swords, and unmatched martial skills, the Mewlatai slowed the heinous conquerors’ advance, inspiring many of the free people left in the universe to band together and fight for survival. The rabble-rousers called themselves the Dissension, in defiance of the Duraxian tyrants, and had fought alongside the ranks of the Mewlatai for 200 years.

To combat the physically superior Mewlatai enemy, the Durax eventually constructed giant killing machines to act as their murderous limbs. When these powerful contraptions were combined with Duraxian mind powers, they marked the dawn of a new era of butchery and terror. Countless millions upon millions of Dissenters, Mewlatai, and innocents were slain. A black feeling blossomed in the hearts of the Mewlatai like a poisonous flower—they blamed themselves for the spawn of the Durax devices and the savagery they left in their wake. Many Dissenters agreed, and their anger and accusations severed the bond between the Dissension Army and the greatest warriors that had ever lived.

Now—100 years since they had parted ways with the Mewlatai—the Dissension has been all but destroyed by the Durax. Dissension Army commanders have sent emissaries to the Mewlatai home world, hoping to negotiate a new alliance, but they have all been turned away. It would seem that hope is lost for the remaining Dissenters and unconquered worlds left in the universe…but a new weapon has emerged—the Serum. Its creator claims to be a Mewlatai who has been able to harness his race’s natural immunity to the Durax mind powers. The injection has been tested and it works.

With the help of the Serum, the Dissension has been able to deal the Durax their first losses in the war since the Mewlatai withdrew. The tide is slowly turning. Word of the new Dissension weapon is spreading, stoking the fires of courage in hearts across the universe and sending a surge of new recruits to join the fight. But peril lurks around every corner. The Durax’s sway has opened the floodgates of evil, and people everywhere are willing to take the most deplorable actions in the name of survival. The mysterious Serum maker won’t give his name and insists on transporting the Serum to the Dissension Army via the dangerous world of black market smuggling, both tactics that give Captain Talfus Zandre and his partner, Lieutenant Malo Schunkari, uneasy feelings in the pits of their stomachs.

Chapter 1: Ghost Ship

 

“W
aiting like death.” The simple words barely escaped the dry lips on Malo Schunkari’s enormous face. On the galactic evolutionary scale, Moxen minds were under-developed, even primal, but their strength and endurance made them the perfect mining race. At over eight feet tall, Malo was a mountain of muscle and power. The twin horns crowning his massive head curled upward like ivory beacons urging his long-awaited delivery to descend from the heavens. His dark eyes anxiously scanned the horizon for the ship carrying the weapon that would help him save his race from torture and enslavement. The thick fur around his head and chin danced in the wind as the gathering storm clouds hurled bolts of jade fire across the darkening sky.

“Patience, my large friend, they’ll be here. The Mewlatai gave their word they would deliver the Serum, and they’d die on their own swords before they’d break their code.” Talfus Zandre was a Waadi soldier and had served in this war against the Durax for more moons than he cared to remember. The green flashes of lightning mixed with his blue skin and shrouded his body in a deathly yellow aura. At slightly more than six feet, his slender, athletic frame was made for slicing through the crystal waters of his home world. But here, on a desolate plateau, standing in the entrance to an abandoned mine shaft, his shiny scales and webbed digits looked grossly out of place.

They were an odd couple, to say the least. Under any other circumstances, Moxen and Waadi would never have known the other existed, and they scarcely would have cared if they had discovered one another. But through the rigors of countless battles and the torment of losing everything they ever loved, Malo and Talfus had formed a bond of friendship and brotherhood that became a light in the darkest times they had ever known.

“I wish it would rain just once on this forsaken rock!” Talfus said, lifting one hand toward the sky.

Malo chuckled, a sound like the beginnings of a small planetary quake.

“What’s so funny?” Talfus said.

“Fish man out of water! Very funny!”

The confusion on Talfus’ face slowly dissolved into a half-cocked smile, and what began as a small chuckle between friends erupted into uncontrollable laughter. It was a dangerous risk to take. A Durax scout looking for signs of Dissenters could have heard the commotion from the bottom of the valley. But the levity offered them a welcome respite from the emotional strain of war and the seriousness of the task at hand. They tried hard to restrain themselves, but it was no use. The Moxen and Waadi laughed until they each wiped tears from their eyes.

“Do you remember family?” Malo’s voice lowered to a whisper in reverence for what he knew would be a heartrending subject for the amphibian.

Talfus’ eyes glimmered as he closed the clear membrane lids that were designed to protect his vision under water; but this time, he was simply trying to hold back his tears. His voice became distant as his memories slashed at his mind like a hot razor.

“With every rising of a new sun. Sometimes I wish I didn’t remember. I think it might make it easier to go on without them, but then I realize that forgetting them would be a hell worse than the scourge of the…” Talfus’ voice trailed off as he saw a faint red glow on a sleek, metallic ovoid attached to the butt of his gun.

Malo let out a resolute grunt and hefted his gigantic battle hammer across his chest as the tracking device started to blink repeatedly. With each passing second, the little light flickered faster. When the lens stopped blinking and burned a solid, bright red, the black under-belly of a Zebulon star freighter parted the clouds just ahead of them.

It was a beautiful machine. Its rounded nose flowed seamlessly into the sides of its contoured body panels. The cockpit was lower in proportion to the sides of the craft, and its small, darkened viewing panes were almost unnoticeable. If the ship was equipped with landing lights, neither Talfus nor Malo could tell where they should be on the flawlessly smooth surface, and its black matte finish failed to reflect even the slightest glint of lightning arcing across the sky. It was a ghost ship, built to disappear among the stars and outrun anyone or anything that happened to stumble upon it. It radiated an aura of elegant danger, speed and stealth; a craft, Talfus thought, quite befitting the legend of the Mewlatai.

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