Starhawk Read Online Free Page B

shaved head and impossibly long sideburns, the fashion of the Five Arm back in the last millennia. Battle scars on his face, especially around his mouth, had left him with a permanent sneer. His right eye was green, the left one was blue, with a tattoo of a teardrop beneath each one. Again, this sort of thing had been the rage on the fifth spiral way back in the mid-sixty-fifth century.
    Kyx was the commanding officer of the BMK forces on Xronis Trey. He was the eldest soldier at the base, having flown out from the Five Arm as a lowly private 322 years before. His position here was more a tribute to his longevity than any leadership qualities. He'd simply outlived his superiors, moving up a step in rank every time one of them passed away. His men disliked him intensely. They suspected that he'd been hoarding all the best holo-girl programs from early on and that he'd stolen from them the only premium slow-ship wine replicater on the planet. He'd also forced the garrison to do the mandatory once-a-decade security drills. This amounted to little more than a few days of calisthenics and taking an inventory of all weapons and supplies. Still, in the eyes of his men, it made him the biggest SOB for light-years around.
    Kyx and his junior officers had been rounded up within minutes of the surprise attack. They were brought to the infirmary, one of the few structures left intact around the base's command cluster, and given aid for their wounds. They were also relieved of their weapons and ID strings.
    After quick examination of the officers' IDs, Kyx was identified as the top man and brought to a smaller room adjacent to the tiny hospital. This is where he was now.
    To his eyes, these invaders were a strange lot. Their battle uniforms were not of any design Kyx had ever seen. They were sand colored, with indiscriminately placed blotches of dull red, black, and green. Their footwear was not the standard issue pointed-toe, thick-heeled spaceboot, but rather a heavy-soled canvas shoe with very high backs and laces keeping them on tight. The soldiers wore helmets that looked bulbous and uncomfortable, more like a distorted steel pot than the bubble-top combat hat wom by just about every soldier in this quarter of the Galaxy. Their weapons were odd, too: huge, double-barreled blaster rifles, with dual power packs hanging off each side. Every soldier was carrying an enormous ray gun as a side arm as well.
    Were these mysterious soldiers space mercs? A rival outfit seeking to eliminate their competition? Kyx didn't think so. They just didn't have the demeanor of hired guns. And the strange vessels they'd arrived in. They seemed to be from an era even earlier than Kyx could remember—all except the bizarrely configured spacefighter that had torn up his base in just a couple minutes' time. Kyx had never seen anything like that.
     
    Two dark figures were hovering over him now. And they were asking him very odd questions, over and over again.
    "How long have the Bad Moon Knights occupied this base?" one voice barked at him.
    Kyx could only offer a shrug in reply. "I already told you. I can only guess. Maybe eight hundred, nine hundred years."
    "But it was here already before that? This base ..."
    Kyx just shrugged again. "Obviously, some of the structures here are much older than a thousand years. Some are ancient. Many ruins are supposed to be found underground."
    "When was the last time you heard from your headquarters?"
    Kyx laughed in their faces. "I can't remember back that far," he told them.
    "And your mission here—what was it supposed to be?"
    Kyx just laughed again. "Something tells me you know more about that than I do."
    It was at this point Hunter, Erx, and Berx arrived in the interrogation room.
    It was so dark inside, it took Hunter's eyes a moment to adjust. Standing on one side of Kyx was Pater Tomm, the priest who had served as chaplain for the Freedom Brigade during the climactic battle of Zazu-Zazu, home of the