Shattered Destiny: A Galactic Adventure, Episode One

All characters
in this publication are fictitious, any resemblance to real
persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Shattered
Destiny: A Galactic Adventure

Episode One

Copyright ©
2016 Odette C Bell

Please note,
this title was previously called Betrothed Season Two: Episode
One

Cover art stock
photos: Planet Earth with Colorful Nebula on background ©
EnricoAgostoni, Couple with sword and historical costumes ©
yekophotostudio, Science Fiction Boarding Party © algolonline,
Earth with Planets and Red Nebula on background © EnricoAgostoni,
and Abstract background © Albisoima. Licensed from
Depositphotos.

www.odettecbell.com

SHATTERED DESTINY: A GALACTIC ADVENTURE

Episode One

She’s a loner. Always
has been. She’s fought to survive, tooth and nail.

He’s a prince of the
Arterian Royal Family – the greatest power in the galaxy.

They shouldn’t meet.
Their paths should never intersect. But they do.

Because the Milky Way
is on the verge of total war once more. Together, they can save
everyone. If they are torn apart, all will fall….

…

Shattered Destiny: A Galactic Adventure is
a
six-episode
serialization, it takes you on a break-neck journey through strange
alien worlds, vast star systems, and a galaxy of secrets. Packed
full of action, intrigue, and romance, it’s sure to please fans of
the original Betrothed series.

Shattered Destiny
continues the legacy of the Betrothed series,
following the reincarnated forms of Annie and Hart 2000 years in
the future.

Note: you don’t need to have read Betrothed to
follow the second season.

Shar

Dawn split over the horizon
like a sword of light
renting
the
dark.

I pressed a hand over my sweaty
brow
as I
watched it.

My face was covered in grit, a few smears of
rust-colored mud tracking down my brow and along my neck.

Flicking my hand down my collar to dislodge
the muck that had collected there, I tore my gaze off the horizon
and pushed down to one knee.

I grabbed at the magnetic tool holster slung
over my back, groping hands finally latching on the rotator
lock.

“You there yet?” the foreman barked over
my communicator.

I clenched my jaw muscles together to
activate the communication implant lodged at the top left
intersection of my jaw bones.

There was an audible click that ran
through my inner ear. “I’m here.”

“Reset the pressure valves now. We can’t
afford to lose another pipe.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Oh, and the weather network is
detecting a sand storm headed your way,” the foreman added as an
afterthought. “Hurry.” With that terse statement, he
terminated
the
communication
.

I clicked my jaw to
power down
the com link then pushed forward through the dust.
I swiped at it with my bare, calloused hands. My violent moves sent
clouds of grit billowing around my face. I ticked my head to the
side, held my breath, and waited until the marching wind snatched
the sand away.

As I pushed my hands further into the sand
bank before me, my rough fingernails finally snagged against
something metal.

I bent forward, my sand scarf bunching
around my neck as I redoubled my efforts to push back the
sand.

Finally I uncovered the pressure sensor. It
was incased in a protective metal barrier made of inch-thick
duverium, a compound substance so hard you could fire it into the
center of a sun, and it would take a full year to melt.

Drawing a lock pen from my back holster, I
engaged the tip and drew it across the metal case.

Inside, several locks unclicked, and the
metal case opened.

Within
it
was
a
pressure sensor, a simple screen surrounded by a
semi-
circle
of manual input controls.

I hunched over the controls, using the bulk
of my back to ensure the wind didn’t scatter sand over them.

I worked methodically, checking the pressure
sensors, one after another, trying to figure out where the problem
was.

The wind began to roar through the valley
around me. I glanced up to see it slice off the top of a dune to my
left and send a billowing cloud of sand right at me.

I tugged up my sand
scarf
and covered my mouth, drawing a pair of goggles
into place over my eyes. They sealed against my skin with a wet
squelch.

“You found the problem yet?” the foreman
barked in my ear.

“…
I think there’s a problem with
one of the secondary sensor arrays.”

“Goddammit,” the foreman spat, adding a
few more colorful insults from his own native tongue. “Which array?
Where is it?”

I crammed my fingers against
the input controls. Now it was my turn to swear.
“In the 12th
district.”

The foreman sucked in a
rattling breath.
“Shit, that’s in breaker territory. Goddamn.
Goddamn.”

I pushed back, hitting the
close button and watching as the sensor pad
disappeared back under the
inch-thick sheet of metal.

I stood up, turning my back to the growing
sand storm. Securing a hand over my scarf and ensuring it protected
my mouth, I cleared my throat. “What do you want me to
do?”

“Get your ass on your slider and head out
to the breaker district. Get that sensor array back online before
the breakers find you.” The foreman cut the call off without so
much as a goodbye or a good luck.

I
snarled, ticked my head to the side,
and forced a ragged breath through my bared teeth.

The wind began to roar behind me, sounding
like a starving pack of wolves chasing across the sky.

I
flicked my gaze up to the once blue
sky just in time to see it completely covered by
the
rusted-brown cloud.

I wasted no more time and
trudged towards my slider. It was parked down a rise, and the sand
scattered over my thick, well-worn boots as I descended
towards
it.

The slider was already covered in a mound of
sand, and I had to kick it free as I mounted the bike.

Minimal shielding flicked into place
around the front of the hover bike. It would take away the brunt of
the sand, but it wasn’t nearly sophisticated enough to eliminate it
completely.

I secured my scarf higher over my mouth,
ensured my goggles protected my eyes completely, and gunned the
engine.

My bike shot out across the dunes, cutting a
deep path through the sand as the downward directional thruster
drives sent out waves of churning air.

Sand blasted against the blue shields at the
front of the bike, sending arcs of electricity discharging into the
air.

It wouldn’t take long to reach the breaker
district. It might take longer, however, to get out of it.

As I kept one hand locked on the bike
controls, I twisted around in my seat and clutched at the magnetic
holster unit slung over my back. Though I often fumbled to secure
the correct tool, this time I had no trouble grabbing what I
needed.

A level III blaster. Worn, old, and with a
hairline fissure running from the muzzle all the way down the
barrel. It still worked, though, and that’s all I
needed.

A gust of particularly ferocious wind
managed to slip past the shield, and it buffeted my scarf from
around my face. The fabric half unwound, and flicked out behind me,
slamming about in the wind like a wet sheet being punched by an
angry mob.

I didn’t bother to grab it and secure it
back around my face – it was more important to keep one hand on the
bike’s controls and the other on the blaster.

A second later the bike’s rudimentary
sensors beeped a hollow warning. It was just audible over the
shriek of the wind and the crackle of the shields.

I’d just exited the relatively safe
territory of the refinery, and entered the breaker district.

Immediately I cast my wary, quick glance
over the sand hills and craggy peaks pushing through the dunes.

My heart quickened, and a cloying sweat
slicked my brow and travelled deep between my shoulder blades.

I would have to travel
a further
10 minutes before I reached the sensor
array.

My skin began to prickle as sweat marched
down the back of my neck.

I’d always had a sixth sense for danger.
It was the only reason I was still alive. Working in the gas
refinery plants of the Argoza sector had taught me how to
survive.

So with bare white knuckles wrapped around
my blaster, I scanned the sand dunes without blinking once.

I managed to reach the sensor array before
I heard the first eerie cries split the air. It was loud enough and
punchy enough that it ricocheted over the roar of the wind,
sounding like a cruiser screeching into land.

The sensor array was a large
metallic tower sunk into the sand. It had a ladder that ran up to
the top which was approximately 50 m off the ground. Even under
ideal conditions, the ladder was treacherous. The multiple sand
storms that ravaged this planet had worn the grips smooth.
It
would be
all too easy to slip off the rungs with
sweaty fingers.

Behind me another grating cry cracked
through the air.

I began to throw myself up the ladder as
fast as I could, jerky legs missing the rungs a few times but never
forcing me to fall off completely.

Though fear threatened to climb my back, I
pushed it back as I threw myself up the ladder.

I was holding my blaster in my mouth. The
first week I’d arrived at this refinery, I’d modified it, adding a
rubber ring to the butt which I could hold comfortably between my
teeth. It was much quicker to grab the gun from your mouth then to
grope it off the magnetic holster at your back.

The wind roared even louder, and it pounded
into my back with all the force of 10 men trying to beat me off the
tower. It clutched and groped at my clothes, my scarf whipping
around and slamming into my back and smarting the flesh
beneath.

10 meters. I could see the access ramp
above.

Below me, I felt the ladder shake. It was
such a violent move, as it travelled up the metal it threatened to
pitch me right off.

I wrapped my stiff white fingers around the
rungs so tightly I could have wrenched it off the frame.

I threw myself up the remaining 10 meters.
But I could feel it behind me. It was faster. Desperate. I heard
its shrieking breath even over the thunderous roar of the
wind.

Finally. Finally I reached the ramp. I threw
myself onto it, the wind catching my scarf in full and tearing it
from around my throat. It blasted off into the sandstorm, never to
be seen again.

I didn’t bother to try to clutch at it, and
instead grabbed the gun from my mouth. Rather than train it on the
ladder and wait for the breaker to climb to the top, I skidded
around and threw myself towards the control room.

Where there was one breaker, there would
be hundreds. My only option was to finish my task, get the hell off
this tower, and force my way back into safe territory.