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Authors: Edward T. Anthony

BOOK: The Full Circle Six
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“Hello, General, welcome to Scyntar,” one of the Scyntar addressed Drake with a sneer, while the multitudes of others snickered. “How very thoughtful of you to just invite us in. Did you think you could take all of us at once? We understand your reputation, however you underestimate us. We were forewarned of your arrival and as punishment for conspiring to attack us we shall ultimately commence in thrashing you and your entire platoon to death in our stadium. What do think about that, oh great General? Hmmmm?”

“You're mistaken,” Drake said hoarsely. “I am Drake Judge, commander of the number thirteen racecraft. I stopped here to make repairs on my thrusters and …”

“ENOUGH! We are well aware of the diversionary and espionage tactics of the Enntrah dimensional army. We know whom you are and what you came here to do. We were not warned once, but twice, so you see your fate has already been decided. Some of us should go capture the rest of his battalion.” The blonde enemy continued to glare at Drake while other Scyntars stammered toward the loading corridor door.

“NOOOO! You can't take the others outside it will kill them all!” Drake was beginning to feel completely desperate. He tried to shake the poles some more and got another shot of electricity.

“What a pleasant idea, General,” the same Scyntar spoke in a wicked tone.” Take him outside and wait for the others to arrive. We shall kill the General last, of course, so that he may see his soldiers die pitifully.” At once, the three Scyntars holding Drake began transporting him outside, shocking him at intervals to detract from his struggling.

Up in the navigation center, the seven members of the team heard Drake's shout and most froze in fear. Jaws disappeared into the surroundings. Bruvold pulled his rapid-fire unit out of his holster. Sammy ran to Drakes personal quarters to see if he could find a weapon. Kraus got into a combative stance.

The Scyntars swarmed into the command center and before they knew it, Freddie, Priscilla, Juhaen, and Kraus were in the same neck cuffs that Drake was contained in. Bruvold screamed and fired his laser unit, but the lasers ricocheted off them as if they had complete body armor, one of the shots bounced back and hit Bruvold in the left knee. He let out a painful scream, dropped his weapon, fell to his one good knee, and was put in neck cuffs. It did not take long before they found and subdued Sammy in Drakes quarters, locking him in the neck cuffs and shocking him for good measure.

Ignoring the pleas and shouts from the captors, the Scyntars, without word, escorted them out of the command center and towards the loading zone in order to unite them outside with their leader.

Outside Drake had been shocked with a different sensation and was immobilized. During his incapacitation, the only Scyntar who seemed to talk was searching Drake for weapons. The Scyntar reached into Drake's inner jacket pocket and pulled out a long, slender case, with peculiar inscriptions. The alien put the case in his own pocket and continued searching. Drake burned with hatred, he didn't know how long he could stand here and take this abuse and now he was being pirated and there was still nothing he could do. He wondered if this paralyzing feeling would ever dissipate and if it did what he would possibly be able to do. There were no answers; he would die along with his racecraft and crew. The Scyntar seemed content with his one finding and ceased searching and right after that the rest of the crew was being dragged onto the surface of Scyntar through the loading zone.

It was maybe thirty seconds before Priscilla's head leaned sideways and her neck gave way to the cuffs and the gravity, with a loud crack.

“AAAAAGGGGGGHHHH! NOOOOOOOOOOO!” Freddie screamed and jerked violently. He was shocked and the three securing him began running in a circle twisting his neck until it too broke stridently.

“No need to keep the wounded one” The Scyntar sneered. Instantly Bruvold was killed in the same manner as Freddie with the crew circling until his neck snapped like weak branch. “Tell us. Why do you bring such weak recruits, General? You Enntrah sure are conceited brutes.”

“I told you already! I am not some General, I am Commander of the number thirteen racecraft and …” Drake was recuperating from his immobilization now and was trying to hold back tears as he spoke. “You're killing my entire crew … my friends,” he finished weakly.

Juhaen was the next to succumb to the gravity. The Scyntar began to look a little suspicious at this death but ordered they march toward the stadium where they apparently were going to beat the remainders to death.

“Live always … in … space … and …” Kraus did not get to finish the phrase of the fallen before he too had his neck cracked from the extreme gravity weighing down his head.

Drake looked at Sammy misty eyed, “Don't leave, fight it, and hold on.” Sammy was gripping his cuff with both hands and gasping heavily through his nostrils.

“Time.” The Scyntars dropped the poles containing the now dead Samelak. He had finished the phrase for Kraus. Drake suddenly realized where he had seen one of them before, on Armos asking questions about the red key. There were subtle differences like the size, the eyes, and the hair, but essentially the same. That mysterious person had to be from here.

“Where is the one of you with the big hair? Tell me now, murderers! Where is the big one, the one that is the biggest! Bring him here! I'll fight him myself!” Drake looked around ferociously.

“We have no differences. We are the same. You will not find one of us that are not alike. Stop playing games General we have obviously won.”

“Live always in space and time … Live always in space and time … Live always in space and time … Live always in space and time … Live always in space and time … Live always in space and time … Live always in space and time …” A couple of shocks from the cuff poles silenced Drake's outburst.

“What is the meaning of this nonsense? Shut your mouth, General, and stop babbling or we shall not give you a fighting chance. Understood?” The Scyntar was smiling maliciously, but the smile faded when he, and everyone else, heard a loud, prolonged, deep war cry from not too far in the distance.

Everyone turned to investigate the source of the scream. Drake had to turn with the three that were subduing him. What he saw when he was turned around was the silhouette of a fantastically large man brandishing an even larger sword or weapon.

All of the Scyntar glanced at Drake momentarily before looking back at the screaming man and whispered,
“The General,”
Drake's neck cuff poles were released and without any hesitation the Scyntar began sprinting toward the so-called General, leaving an unnerved Drake behind.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Crew of Three

D
rake remained fixed, deliberately delaying turning around to face the lifeless bodies of his comrades. He took in the planet Scyntar and saw a blue sun shining through a cloudless, pink sky. The surface looked dry with minimal vegetation. There was a battle ensuing in the distance, and it crossed Drake's mind to go and assist the newcomer, who was handling his enormous weapon gracefully, annihilate the murdering tribe of Scyntar. He couldn't bring himself to abandon his racecraft and was admittedly feeling the effects of the gravity to the point of doubting his abilities.

Drake moved to go back to his racecraft and the first thing he saw was Samelak sprawled out on the infertile ground. Drake began to sob.

“I'm not gonna leave you here, Sammy ol' pal.” Drake scooped up the body and hoisted it with a depressing grunt, over his shoulder. Purposefully not looking down he focused on trudging to the open hatch to lye his friend's body down in the loading zone. He snatched up his toolbox with intentions of immediately fixing the thrusters, but as he stepped outside, to the many bodies, he dropped his box. He couldn't help himself from grabbing up brave, fallen, members of his team and placing them inside the loading zone next to the greatest friend he had ever known. Drake had made an oath, and it was his responsibility, as a navigational command post operator, to give them all a proper send-off, just like Croxon got, as long as he was capable of recovering the remains. He didn't have an inclination to how much time he had before the Scyntar focused back on his racecraft, but if the result from him recovering his friends' corpses was himself being killed then so be it. He felt as if he deserved to die, having led his crew to such an abrupt end.

Drake stared; glossy eyed, at the aligned, deceased, teammates. He thought of how he had now lost at least as many members as Folders and he felt an emotional connection with the soon to be retired number twenty-six pilot. Drake had a sudden realization with this last thought. He may not be alone. He scanned the bodies thoroughly. Unless the cadaver was inside, Jaws was still alive somewhere on the racecraft, camouflaging himself due to fright no doubt.

Drake closed and latched the loading zone, and hurried to the loading corridor slamming the door behind. He sprinted up to the command center, heart pumping, and glided over the ramp. He hadn't gotten used to the decreased gravity yet.

He was overcome with joy, when he saw Jaws flickering next to the scanners trying to fuse wires together from where one of Bruvold's laser fires had ricocheted.

“JAWS!” Drake said, a little to excitedly, causing Jaws to disappear completely.

The big nosed creature, upon seeing it was his captain reappeared, “Sir? You frightened me. I …”

“No need to explain yourself, you don't know how glad I am to see you alive.” Drake bent over to breathe and calm himself down. “You wonderful, wonderful freak.”

“Sir, should I get the poison antidote again? Maybe the Purefection pollen is swelling in your system again?” Jaws made to go examine the commander.

“No … it's nothing like that … Oh Jaws. They … They're … All dead. Every single one of our teammate's bodies is lying in the loading zone. And … there is some kind of war … I think … Going on outside.” Drake stood up and looked at Jaws squarely. “It's just you and me.”

Jaws looked at the captain with his usual look of horror and then his nose started puffing like he was sniffing in large amounts of air and exhaling it quickly. “Sir, I believe the M.S.C. is still alive in the isolation chamber but … only the C.S.O. has or … had a key.”

Drake didn't waste time in explaining that he had a key as well. He turned and sprinted at full speed to the isolation chamber, containing Uciferi, slid his keycard through the slot, and slammed the door open on a surprised, startled Ouldsid.

“Sir, I,” the prisoner started stammering, but Drake cut him off.

“Forget your crimes, your exonerated. The whole crew is dead, and we need you to help run the craft. You will be the third and last crew member now.” Drake grabbed Uciferi by the arm and started dragging him away to the navigation quarters, scarcely noticing that he was trudging through a spilled meal. Ouldsid, while being dragged, scooped up some of the meat and put it hungrily in his mouth.

“Alright, it's just us three,” started Drake, while thinking these were the last two teammates he would have selected had he been given a choice, “I need to go back out there to fix the manual thrusters … I should be able to get away with just replacing the circuit boards like the last time Boxton did this to me … While I'm out there you two get those engines fixed, don't worry about the cannons, we don't have time for that. It does look like the scanners might need more tending to as well. Wish me luck … when I get back we'll all prepare the rocket booster.” Drake finished with a courtesy nod.

The great commander headed down the main corridor, he would not be able to push his fallen team from his mind, as he would have to catch sight of all of their dead bodies in the loading zone. He made for the storage as soon as he entered the loading zone, closing the hatch behind. He packed a contrivance sachet full of the necessary utensils and circuit boards. Careful not to tread on the deceased, Drake exited the racecraft.

The battle was ongoing in the distance, only there appeared to be an allotment of more generals involved now. Drake crawled, with his contrivance sachet, under the front of the racecraft to where the manual thrusters were positioned. Removing the panels and being precise with his utensils were proving much more difficult than usual. Drake was unsure whether he liked this feeling of gravity or not. In one sense, it kept him grounded, which is something that had always appealed to Drake and he could now relate to how everyone else might feel when they are working. In another sense, he felt heavy and had way too much impatience for tedious work. He was already perspiring, which is something Drake rarely did. The panels that covered the burnt circuit boards were nearly welded to the craft by the bolts in the corners. The increase in gravity made this worse, as it did everything else. Even turning his arm was an effort for Drake, of course he still may have been experiencing the effects from the shocks he had received, when trapped by the neck cuffs.

Jaws and Uciferi were having no trouble at all in working together to repair the engines. Jaws had learned a bit from Freddie about the engines, and Ouldsid knew enough about general repair, that the job seemed almost un-challenging. Most of the work was automatic, and they had plenty of spare time. Uciferi tried to convince Jaws to get food and coffee, but Jaws would only allow coffee, and instructed Uciferi to bring the drink directly back to the navigation quarters.

Ouldsid was terribly afraid on the way to the consuming quarters for the coffee. He knew the risk was severe, but he needed something. It had been a long time since he had been brought food in the isolation chamber, and he planned to eat, once he was at the delivery dispensing tubes, despite the urgings from Jaws to only drink coffee. Nearly panic-stricken, he wolfed down the few crumbs left in the tubes. His fears turned out to be for nothing, for it took Drake much longer with the exterior repairs than originally anticipated.

Drake latched the hatch to the loading zone with sweat swimming in his eyes and made for the cleansing quarters to wash and dry his face cursing at himself along the way for taking too long to fix the thrusters. Once his face was cooled and dried, Drake met Jaws and Ouldsid in the navigation center.

“Good job guys, everything seems to be in order here. Let's go prepare the rocket booster and get off this rock.” Drake led the way down to the rocket booster located at the back of the racecraft near the isolation chambers and together they repaired, refueled and calibrated it in less than twenty minutes.

“Alright,” Drake said, “Jaws, you'll take the scanners and, Ouldsid, you take care of engines and rotate to shields when you can. I will of course drive, but before we launch I'll have to set an automated course because no pilot alive could launch a straight line out of here.” The three hurried up to the command center and took up their positions.

After Drake set the automated course to depart off of the planet Scyntar, he hit the ignition and the number thirteen race-craft began launching with the familiar shaking. Drake was in control of his craft again, and it felt relieving just to feel the vibrations.

Jaws spoke up just as they were about to leave the anti-gravity field at the end of the automated course. “Sir, I believe an outside source has scanned our instruments.”

“I don't care, just keep alert and let me know if anything else out of the ordinary happens. Us being scanned won't affect anything … never has before.” Drake said, while switching to manual control. “Well, which direction should I go guys?” He asked genuinely.

“The scanners say that we can find a cluster of planets a few days from here. I'll transfer you the coordinates.” Jaws responded professionally.

“To the cluster, then.” Drake received the coordinates and set an automated course. He didn't feel much like a navigator at the time.

There was silence, but for the slurping of coffee, for the next couple of hours. Drake was relenting the fact that his keys were stolen. He hadn't even thought about using them when his team was breathing, but the circumstances almost called for it now. His retirement plans were shattered, with the loss of his red key. He now had no mystery to unfold and nothing to look forward to. The only concern he had now was getting back to his own dimension alive, and he would now have to depend on hope, as he knew nothing of the inhabitants of this dimension. His only encounter so far had been disastrous.

“Sir … there's something coming up on us fast and … it's big … looks like a planet … Sir.” Jaws said apprehensively.

“Of course there is, why wouldn't we be attacked by a moving planet,” Drake couldn't help being sarcastic. “Don't we have another time disrupter? Let's use it now and maybe the roaming planet won't be there. Shut down the engines, Ouldsid.”

Jaws spoke just as Uceferi cut the engines. “Sir … we can't … I mean it was broken by those blond guys. I saw them smash it and take some parts from it, so … I uh … we couldn't or wouldn't be able to repair it,” he said reproachfully.

“Stolen? You've got to be kidding me!” As Drake said it he turned and saw for himself the smashed device. “You're telling me this now? When we need it!”

“I'm sorry … I didn't think about it. Ohhhungnngn” Jaws sobbed.

“Stop crying. Wouldn't have made any difference if you told me, anyway. It's gone for good, and we are trapped. My hunch is, if they are driving a planet, they are not friendly … They're on top of us now. I want you to disappear, Jaws, in case they kill us, maybe you can save yourself and my racecraft somehow.” Drake rose and walked over to Jaws. “What's the problem?”

“I don't know, it doesn't work with all sentiments. I have trouble controlling that part of my defense,” answered Jaws emotionally.

All three heads turned in alarm at the thud of heavy footsteps and what sounded like rattling chains approaching from the main corridor.

Only one man stepped into the command center. He was as large as Drake, but with better posture. He had one chillingly squinting eye on the left, while his right was wide open, giving him the look of constant surprise, or confusion. His hair coincided with the confusion side, as it was sticking up in all different directions and graying like his well-trimmed beard. From the head up, Drake thought the man looked like the stereotypical mad scientist. The rest of him was suited in a rusty black uniform which, at first eye, appeared to be covered in tiny medals. The tiny medals were actually little spherical weights, with no inscriptions, and they were attached all the way down to the boots. All around, Drake found the man impressively intimidating to the point of speechlessness, and apparently, so did Jaws, as his camouflage technique had just kicked in.

You couldn't see his squinting eye, but the man, keeping the same expressions, stared at the spot where Jaws disappeared for a considerable amount of time before speaking in a brusque voice.

“I am Colonel Porter, of the Enntrah dimensional army … you have invaded Enntrah territory. There had better be a good reason.”

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