Blackwing: Rise of a New Empire (The Blackwing Trilogy Book 1)

  L.S. Mercer

  Blackwing: Rise of a New Empire

  First published by B.D. Shields in 2018

  Copyright © L.S. Mercer, 2018

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  L.S. Mercer asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

  First edition

  This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy

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  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 1

  “Right this way doctor!” Roared a Voorian1 guard as the door opened to the corridor, the sound of snot blowing out of his trunks echoed through the hall as he stepped in.

  Adrian rushed over to his pillow and threw the rock that he’d been using on the walls inside it. He stared at the new carving, number three hundred and seventy, which signified how many days the Voore had kept him imprisoned in the rathole known as Sector Eight.

  A man came into view of Adrian’s cell, he looked somewhat familiar to him, although he couldn’t pinpoint where he’d seen him before.

  “Meet your new cellmate doc!” Snorted the guard as he clicked the button to the cell door with his fat, stubby fingers. The door made a ticking sound and slid open.

  The guard gave the doctor an excessively violent shove into the cell and immediately closed the door; they knew Adrian too well. He’d already broken out multiple times in the last few months, mainly out of boredom; but also since he hated the Voore for what they’d done to him.

  “Adrian Blackwing.” Said Adrian, smiling down at the doctor.

  “I know who you are.” He chuckled in response. “Dr. Sebastian Carter at your service.”

  “Ah, makes sense.” Mumbled Adrian.

  The doctor looked up at him, confused.

  “You were aboard the Crusher that went into Tracer2 territory.” Continued Adrian, still smiling at Sebastian. “I remember the name on the boarding log.”

  No response was needed, everything clicked in Sebastian’s brain the moment that Blackwing had said it. He’d constantly been targeted by authorities ever since his involvement in the special operations mission, commissioned by the Voore themselves. He chuckled at the irony.

  “So when’s your expiration date?” Asked Sebastian.

  “Tonight.” Muttered Adrian, lifting his pillow and grabbing his carver.

  “Too bad.” He replied. “I’ll miss the company.”

  Sebastian rolled over onto his back to stare up at the ceiling.

  With the thought of expiry now coursing through Adrian’s mind, he was finally beginning to feel a little nervous about the whole situation.

  “You know, I’m a big fan of your work.” Said Sebastian, noting that his new cellmate was uncomfortable.

  “My work?” Asked Adrian, the thought of him having a fan made him crack a smile.

  “Exceptional piloting skills.” He said with a chuckle. “Not to mention your ability to shoot, guys down at the station were calling you bullseye.”

  He turned his head back to Adrian and tossed a pebble at him playfully.

  “I am pretty damn good.” Laughed Adrian. “Too bad I can’t put escape artist on my resume!”

  The two shared a quick laugh about their fates, only to be buzzed by the guards for being too loud. The pain from the shocks caused them both to go dead silent for a moment. Adrian had learned from previous cellmates not to push it when the guards were trigger happy, it only made things worse for everyone, and he had the scars to prove it.

  “So, what’d you do on the crusher anyways?” Whispered Adrian, the silence getting too boring for him.

  “I am a cybermechanic, ya know, robots and tech stuff.”

  “That’s it?”

  “And a medical specialist, obviously.”

  “Like people?”

  Sebastian gave Adrian a funny look, he couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not.

  “Yes, like people.” He replied, eyes narrowing slightly.

  Adrian noticed the doctor’s expression and immediately became embarrassed.

  “Sorry, just got confused between the whole cybermech and doctor stuff.” He said.

  Sebastian nodded at him, then returned his gaze to the ceiling. Adrian continued to watch his cellmate even though it was obvious that their conversation had come to an end. He was unsure of what to make of the guy since he seemed kind of odd. But at the same time, he also seemed like someone that he could really get along wit. It wouldn’t matter in the end, since he was going to be dead in a few hours, regardless of his level of friendship with the new guy.

  The doctor had fallen asleep, so he began carving his final masterpiece into the floor of the cell. This one was different from the idle drawings of mountains and dunes, this time he was feeling rather nostalgic due to his impending demise. He drew an old, broken down crusher ship just like the one he’d been on prior to imprisonment. The crusher was simply a deep space mining ship, but theirs had been outfitted with Class-8 Battle lasers, the best lasers in the entire Voore fleet. Inside the large drawing of the ship, he wrote “Remember me, Blackwing” as a way of telling the next prisoners to who had been inside the cell.

  “Nice drawing.” Said Sebastian, who was standing over him as if he’d been there for hours.

  Adrian was caught by surprise, the moment he’d heard the voice, his heart stopped, causing a slight pain to rush through his chest.

  “Thanks.” He replied.

  “What are your charges?” Asked Sebastian. “I never asked.”

  “Treason.” He choked out, the word felt like a poison in his mouth as he spoke.

  Sebastian remained silent, his expression unflinching as he waited for a more complex response.

  “The Tracer mission.” He continued. “When it failed, the Voore claimed that I’d gone rogue and that they would put me on trial for my crimes.”

  “All to avoid a war with the Tracers eh?” Noted Sebastian, intrigued and disgusted all at once.

  “Exactly.” He grumbled, throwing his carver against the wall, breaking it into pieces.

  “For what it’s worth.” Said Sebastian. “I was honored to be a part of your mission.”

  “Don’t be.”

  “You might want to get some sleep.” Said Sebastian, looking out at the clock on the wall. “Dying is easier when you’re still groggy.”

  It probably wasn’t meant to be too funny, but the comment caused Adrian to burst into a laug
hter, unlike anything he’d had since imprisonment. Within seconds of his fit, a shock shot through the inmate’s collars.

  “Gotta stop doing that.” Growled Adrian.

  He slipped his fingers underneath the collar and rubbed the irritated skin.

  Sebastian remained silent, he now looked very angry, staring out of the cell doors as if in a trance of some sort. Adrian wanted to ask the doctor what was wrong but decided against it. He just watched in silence as the doctor’s eyes continued to narrow as if he were about to explode at any moment.

  * * *

  Adrian sat in the sill of the rather narrow, barred window of the cell, staring out at the beautiful landscape of Voore. His anxiety was rising more and more with every tick of the clock. Three more ticks before he’d never have to hear that deafening sound ever again, he’d be dead, but there was some relief there. After a few hours, he’d even taken to counting the ticks out loud so that he didn’t have to stare at the clock to know what time it was.

  Sebastian slept soundly, probably due to the fact that he’d get another year or so in the prison before being executed. To Adrian that almost felt just as bad, life is life, but when you are only living to wait for death, it had a completely different meaning to it. Every now and then he’d look over and watch the doctor as he slept, too bored to do anything else.

  The buzzer began to ring, it was time for his execution.

  Sebastian flew up, not expecting the loud buzz to surge through the corridor the way it had. When he realized what was going on, he gave Adrian a look of pure concern, to which Adrian just smiled back at him.

  “It’ll be alright.” Said Adrian. “Quick and painful.”

  Sebastian couldn’t help but laugh, the two shared a similar sense of humor.

  “Your death will not stand my friend.” He replied.

  As he spoke, the corridor doors beeped and opened. Many voorian thumps could be heard making their way to his cell. To avoid any unnecessary violence, Adrian awaited the guards at the entrance.

  “See you in a year or so.” Said Adrian as the guards reached the cell door.

  The door clicked open and Adrian walked out into the wave of guards, eager to get his sentencing over with.

  The doctor had responded to him but the guards closed the door too fast for him to understand what the man had said. They roughly dragged Adrian to the exit, pushing him between each other as they walked, a typical voorian thing to do.

  A gross feeling rushed through him as his body continuously squished into the voorian’s fat rolls, making a disgusting gassy sound every time. The sound made Adrian want to vomit, but he controlled himself, knowing it would only make things worse for him if he had.

  The guards dragged him through their cluttered, primitive halls, all the way to the throne room where the great Master Gorgoth most likely lay in wait, eager to sentence him to death. As they walked, Adrian’s foot got caught in the very lazily tiled flooring, causing him to trip and fall face-first onto the ground. Even this was enough to anger the fatties, who roughly kicked him in the side for his blunder as they snorted amongst each other.

  The door to the throne room creaked open, revealing a crowd of voorian nobles, all awaiting the most ridiculous trial of the century.

  “Master Blackwing!” Shouted the boisterous Gorgoth, happily perched upon his so called throne.

  “Scumbag.” Growled Adrian, spitting on the ground to show his hatred for the oversized pig.

  Gorgoth exploded with laughter, obviously unphased by the human’s petty response. The rest of the nobles joined in the laughter, all mocking Adrian.

  “Two choices!” Spat Gorgoth. “Death, or another year in our beautiful Sector Eight!”

  Many of the nobles had already begun shouting the two options before hearing of any of the evidence, it was incredibly obvious to Adrian how this trial was going to go for him.

  “Silence!” Roared Gorgoth, whose laughter had ceased and been replaced by rage.

  “By order of our gracious ruler, you have been charged with treason, how do you plead Master Blackwing?” Asked the scrawny little voorian standing next to Gorgoth.

  “Guilty as charged.” Said Adrian, which seemed to catch the entire room by surprise. “I mean, I was innocent. But then I realized that I’d rather be dead than fly for a bunch of fat Gharps3 such as yourselves.”

  Gorgoth let loose a very low, menacing growl and narrowed his already narrow eyes at Adrian. The growl would have been intimidating coming from any other species, but from the Voore, it was simply comical. He knew not to underestimate them since they are quite dangerous, but he just couldn’t help but crack a smile. Gorgoth noticed his amusement, which made him growl again as if the first one wasn’t enough to make the guy burst out laughing already.

  Adrian contained himself, if he had one thing it was the will to live as long as possible, even in conditions such as his.

  “So, death it will be.” Sang Gorgoth, drawing out the word death as it trilled on the tip of his tongue.

  Adrian’s heart sank. He knew to expect the sentence, but actually hearing it out loud created a sense of dread that he hadn’t felt in the entire year that he’d been waiting for it.

  The nobles began to smash their walking sticks into the floorboards in a deafening roar of pure ecstasy as they watched the Pulsecutioner4 enter the room, ready to drag poor Adrian to the execution chamber.

  He didn’t fight it. He’d always heard that if you accepted your fate, the Pulsecutioner would make your death as painless as he possibly could. In a way, the guy seemed pretty nice. He gently patted Adrian on the back and grabbed his hands. Another voorian slapped chains around his wrists as roughly as possible, concealing what Adrian thought might have been a smile as he did so. With no hope of escaping and the heaviest chains he’d ever seen, he followed the Pulsecutioner out of the throne room, ready to accept the electrifying embrace of the pulse generator5.

  1 Voorian- Short and fat creatures, two trunks for nostrils, Native to the planet Voore.

  2 Tracer- Cyborg, half human and half robotics. Masters of tech and Native to the Tech Sea. Originally created on Ostillion to be the planet’s servants, they rebelled and started their own planet back in the ancient times of the first galactic space war.

  3 Gharp- Voorian cattle, long snouted, smelly creatures. Primary source of meat for the Voorian Settlers.

  4 Pulsecution- Execution by rapid pulse energy surging through the body.

  5 Pulse generator- Primary source of energy throughout the galaxy, doubles as an execution device.

  Chapter 2

  “Don’t see many humans around these parts.” Observed the Tracer, his wires exposed from old age.

  “Ya know, I thought I’d come out to see the view!” Shouted Damon Blackwing, former star pilot commander, current smuggler scum.

  “Pearly whites and slick black hair?” Grumbled another one. “Can’t trust em!”

  Damon smiled to himself as he made note of the smoke-induced, raspy voice of the old cyborg, it reminded him of his grandmother’s voice back on Ostillion6.

  “I’ll take these.” Muttered a man as he bumped right into Damon as if he wasn’t there.

  “Watch it.” Growled Damon.

  The man turned to look at him, looking surprised that someone would dare stand up to him. He was a large Kharan7, a naturally bulky, horned man from the Kharan Dynasty.

  “Blackwing?” Asked the Kharan.

  The man slowly went for his laser, which only meant one thing for Damon, time to run!

  “Yeah, I gotta go!” Shouted Damon.

  He took off, sliding over one of the trader’s counters in order to gain even a few feet away from the guy. He could tell the Kharan was chasing him due to the heavy banging sounds echoing across the wooden boards of the spaceport. As he was just crossing the pillars of a small restaurant, a pulse whizzed by Damon’s head.

  “Great, a pulse gun!” Thought Damon as he ducked to avoid another shot.


  The Kharan was not about giving up his prize, he used his brute of a body to shatter the pillars, not slowing him down even a bit.

  “Just a few more minutes to the hanger!” He thought. “Come on!”

  Even though they were big, Kharan’s were fast. There was almost little to no chance to outrun them, but Damon had been doing it for quite some time since his last run in. Ducking under a fallen beam as he ran, he clicked the call button on his communicator to signal his ship.

  “Call Alloy.” He panted into the microphone of the device.

  “Hello?” Squeaked Alloy, one of Damon’s tiny twin Eyres8.

  “Alloy!” Shouted Damon. “Start the Duster9, we gotta go!”

  “Yay!” Replied Alloy as he switched off of the communicator.

  Damon increased his speed, he wasn’t sure if the Kharan was falling behind or gaining on him, he simply didn’t dare to look back and find out. Another pulse whizzed by his head at that exact moment, ensuring that he was definitely still in the chase. This caused Damon to give in, looking back at the rapidly approaching Kharan.

  As he turned back around, he realized that he’d made a wrong turn, ending up right in a storage bay, with only one way back out, which was now being blocked by an oversized bull-man.

  “Look.” Said Damon, panting and lowering his arms to rest on his knees. “Can’t we just talk about this?”

  “No.” Grumbled the Kharan, who seemed unchanged by the pursuit.

  “Well, I’m sure I could guess, but why are you after me?”

  “Val’Drago.” The Kharan hissed.

  Damon’s hand slowly went down to rest upon his pistol, keeping eye contact with the Kharan. It didn’t seem to notice.

  “Tell Val’Drago that I’ll stop by soon.” Chuckled Damon, getting slightly nervous as he mentally lined up his shot.

  The Kharan let out a boisterous laugh, putting a hand on an active communicator.

  “I called him so that he could listen to you scream for mercy!” He growled, activating the charge on his pulse gun.

  As the brute finished speaking, Damon expertly went for his pistol, firing it into the head of the Kharan before he even had a chance to flinch. The communicator fell out of his hands as he slumped over onto his side. Damon walked over and picked up the communicator.