He looked ahead to the top of the steps, seeing the doors of the great stone temple. As he reached the top, the doors began to open of their own accord, inviting him into the waiting darkness. He tried, as he always did, to see inside, but this was a place devoid of light, and whatever awaited him inside was, in and of itself, pure darkness.
The storm grew more violent, seemingly warning him away, as though life itself feared what dwelled within. As he looked out, away from the temple, he could see only a vast nothingness in all directions, the dark storm having devoured all but this place. There was nowhere else he could go. There was only himself and what awaited him. He was meant to be here.
Jarred.
He turned back to the doorway. The darkness inside was calling to him. He could feel its presence drawing him closer. It grew like a shroud, reaching out from inside the temple, swallowing everything it touched until only he remained, the sword in his hand the only light left against the darkness. And soon even its powerful radiance began to wilt before the seemingly unstoppable void of nothingness.
He felt himself being overwhelmed by the ominous presence and knew, as always, that whatever awaited him inside, whatever this darkness was, he would be taken under by it. It was inevitable, and yet he knew that he must go on. He had no choice but to confront it.
He was meant to be here.
Calm and resolute, he stepped through the doorway into the waiting darkness.
And then there was nothing.
Chapter
7
Jarred watched as a small cargo freighter flew by overhead and was surprised to find that he actually felt relieved to be near some place civilized again. Not that this port was a pinnacle of modern society, but it was definitely a site for sore eyes after nearly two days of trudging through the scorching hot desert.
The spaceport was made up of several docking areas and repair facilities, all cramped closely together to provide some protection from the harsh elements. It was a better known and therefore more widely used port on the moon, as opposed to the outpost he and the others had come from the previous day. Where Wasteland Station was used almost exclusively by humans; there were a number of ports, outposts and even cities like it which catered to single races of beings who seemed to prefer to keep to their own; this port was much more diverse. Beings of varying species moved throughout the station’s numerous docking bays and repair shops, attending to their vessels.
It was early afternoon and the rest of their journey had gone smoothly and without incident. Jarred was just happy enough to finally be here. The sooner he could get a new ship and lose his excess baggage, the sooner he could get back to tracking Mac down again for his bounty,
if
he was still alive.
His homing beacon was still registering on Jarred’s remote, which meant, at the very least, he was still alive. The beacon had an organic make up, which made it virtually untraceable to scanners, the drawback being that it would eventually break down and dissolve in Mac’s bloodstream. He only had a few days to locate him before that happened.
Reminding himself that he first had to get off this rock before he could find anyone, Jarred directed his thoughts towards the more immediate task at hand. Arden Taliss was here, waiting for him to deliver his bounty, and as bad as it would look on him to show up empty handed, it would be far worse to not show up at all. He would just have to explain what happened at the outpost and hope that the rumors of Taliss’ unforgiving nature were greatly exaggerated.
With the others in tow, Jarred led the way through the labyrinth of spaceport facilities until they reached the largest central docking bay. The dock was filled with vessels of various makes and models, pilots and mechanics moving about busily, working on ships and conversing with one another. The loud sounds of engine fire up and testing sequences, combined with the constant drone of the dock’s many refueling units and the sporadic flares from welders and other tools, gave the bay an almost symphonic feel. It was music to any pilot’s ears.
As he inspected the various models of freighters and transports, he couldn’t help but notice Ethan doing the same next to him, the boy’s eyes sparkling with each new ship he took in.
Jarred grinned. “What do you think?” he asked him.
“There’s so many,” Ethan answered, sounding overwhelmed.
“They all look the same to me,” Elora spoke out from behind, sounding bored.
Ethan just looked back at her, seeming disappointed and annoyed by the blunt comment. He then turned back to Jarred, rolling his eyes at his sister’s lack of enthusiasm.
Jarred smiled and glanced off across the bay, his eyes quickly catching sight of what he was looking for. “Now,
that
is a thing of beauty,” he commented, honestly. He pointed towards the ship across the bay for Ethan to see and heard the boy’s gasp of wonder as he caught sight of it.
Resting in a fairly open spot at a refueling station on the far side of the bay, was a sleek looking transport, Meridian class, Jarred knew. One of the older Stargazer models, it was a heavily armored transport designed more for function than style, unmatched in its speed and maneuverability. The Stargazers had been a staple of the Sect navy decades ago, before the newer Armada class warships began development. Many similar decommissioned vessels could be found throughout the system now, which would be the reason Arden Taliss had acquired it for one of his many personal transports. It’s size allowed for the spacious transport of a fair number of beings, or body guards in this case, while still being smaller and more agile than the average light freighter. More importantly, it’s plain aesthetics and fairly common use system wide made it ideal for keeping a low profile.
“That’s Arden’s ship,” Jarred continued. “The
Taliss Runner
.”
“The
Taliss Runner
?” Elora echoed, incredulously from over his shoulder, snorting to herself. “Are you kidding me? How big is this guy’s ego?”
Jarred turned to look back at her. “When you’re kingpin to the largest crime syndicate in the galaxy, you tend to become a bit eccentric.”
Elora rolled her eyes. “Gee, I wonder what he’s compensating for?”
Jarred turned from the ship and headed out across the bay, the others moving along behind him. They continued on past the bay’s cantina, where Taliss would be waiting inside, Jarred sparing a casual glance inside. It wouldn’t due for him to take these three in with him. Instead, he moved towards a grouping of small food kiosks and looked for an appropriate place to have his
crew
rest and recharge, while staying out of the way. A grin came to Jarred’s face as he immediately recognized one of the proprietors.
“Good day, sir,” he said, greeting the human cook behind the counter as he stepped up to the kiosk. “Do you know where someone might find an edible meal around these parts?”
“Edible, yes,” the elderly man answered, humorously, his back to Jarred. “As long as you have a strong stomach.” Turning around, the cook gave him a look of recognition and smiled, warmly. “Ah, Mister Jarred! This is a surprise. Long time since I have seen you.”
“Too long, Mister Kim,” Jarred agreed, with a slow, respectful nod of his head. “I’ve missed your cooking.”
Kim laughed. “You were never a very good liar.”
“I’m surprised to still find you camped out here,” Jarred remarked. “Figured you would have picked up and moved shop by now.”
“Moving too hard on the joints,” Kim returned. “Easier to stay still. Besides . . . I like it here. It is quiet. Not too busy. Reminds me of home.”
Jarred nodded in understanding. “I know what you mean.”
Kim's gaze shifted to look around the facility. “But still not the same. I think maybe I have been away for too long.” His eyes came back to Jarred. “I think maybe it is the same for you.”
“Oh really,” Jarred returned, raising his brow at the old cook.
Kim nodded. “And I am not the only one.”
Jarred sighed, heavily. This wasn't a conversation he was interested in having, under the circumstances, or just at all. “Well, that's my decision to make, isn't it? Just like it was yours.”
“I left for different reason than you,” Kim argued. “And on better terms.”
“You still left, though,” Jarred challenged.
Kim only nodded in agreement, obviously not wanted to press the matter any further. Jarred was glad for it, though the damage was already done, his thoughts now focused on the subject of their brief discussion.
“So, how is he, anyway?” he asked, finally, his curiosity getting the better of him.
A grin came to Kim's face. “As well as any of us, I suppose.”
“So, you've heard from him, then?”
“Oh, we speak from time to time,” the old cook answered. “You should try it.”
“Well, that was never really our strong suit.”
Kim hummed, knowingly. “So,” he said, abruptly, clapping his hands together. “Change of subject. What brings you out to these parts? Not my cooking, I think.”
“Unfortunately not,” Jarred returned. “I'm tracking a bounty.”
“Ah. You are working.”
“Trying to,” Jarred answered. “But I've run into a little bit of a snag.”
Kim's look became playfully curious. “What kind of a snag, Mister Jarred?”
Jarred said nothing, but turned his head to motion to the entourage behind him.
“Ah, I see,” Kim said, a grin coming to his face as he took the group in. “You are with friends.”
“Welcome,” he greeted the others, enthusiastically. “How are you?”
“Hungry, thank you,” Elora answered, over Jarred’s shoulder. “
Very
hungry.”
“Of course you are,” Kim exclaimed, clapping his hands together again. “Four specials coming up.”
Jarred held up three fingers. “Three. For my
friends
.”
Kim looked surprised. “You are not eating?”
Jarred slid some credits across the kiosk counter, much more than the food was worth. “I’m not really hungry, but I
am
looking for some tech, if you’re still selling.”
Kim raised an eyebrow. “That depends on what you are looking for.”
“A clean transponder.”
“Transponder?” Kim asked, with a grin. “You lost yours, Mister Jarred?”
“All of them,” Jarred answered. “Along with my ship.”
Kim chuckled. “That bad luck.”
“Yes, it is.”
Kim leaned forward. “I might have a few lying around. Let me see what I can find. You have lunch while I look.”
Jarred took a step back from the kiosk. “Not today, Mister Kim. I’m late for a meeting.”
“You should never put business before stomach,” Kim chided. “I have yours ready when meeting over.”
“Thank you, Mister Kim,” Jarred answered, turning to walk towards the cantina. Unfortunately, if this meeting didn’t end in his favor, that meal could be waiting a very long time.
* * *
The bay’s cantina was fairly busy inside but it took only a moment for Jarred to notice the private section at the rear of the establishment, two hulking guards standing to either side of its opening. The guards turned their attention towards him almost as soon as he had begun to head in their direction, stepping out to intercept him.
Jarred raised his hands, slightly. “Easy boys. I have an appointment.” He retrieved Mac’s bounty contract data card from his belt and held it up to the guards for inspection.
One of the guards inspected it briefly, looking Jarred up and down before finally speaking. “Mister Taliss has been expecting you.” He then stepped aside, opening the way for Jarred to pass into the private area.
The lighting inside was dimmer than the rest of the cantina and it took a moment for Jarred’s eyes to adjust to the change as he took his first few steps into the room. A quick scan of the area revealed a dozen more bodyguards, situated evenly around the perimeter of the section, and in its far corner, masked in shadow, Arden Taliss sat alone, waiting.
“Let’s not keep him waiting then.” Jarred turned to head in Arden’s direction and was immediately stopped again by one of the bodyguards closest to him, who was holding up a portable scanning device.
“Disarm,” the guard ordered, simply.
“Of course,” Jarred replied with a nod, stepping up to the table closest to him. He pulled the slung rifle from his shoulder and placed it on the table first, then removed his utility belt, which held a sidearm, knife and a number of grenades and power clips. Extending both hands, he ejected his twin plasma gauntlets, a smirk coming to his face as the guard flinched noticeably at the action, and added them to the pile along with a few more concealed knives. Finally, he reached over his shoulder and pulled his sheathed sword free from its housing on his back, carefully laying it on the table with the rest of his possessions, and then waited patiently for the scanning guard’s nod of approval.