Colton Cyness and the Gunslingers (Children of the Empire Book 1) Page 10

  Ella crashed through the back door and raced to the front room. Her mother stood at the front door waving a broom and glaring at two Gunslinger Deputies standing in the yard. The deputies stood patiently as the woman brandished her broom at them.

  "Mama, stop!" cried Ella. "This is what I want. I have to go now. They don't give you a second chance." Ella pushed the broom aside and hugged her mother. "I love you Mama, and tell Papa I love him too."

  Ella picked up the saddlebag that she packed two years ago. She had repacked it every night, carefully checking the contents since that day two years ago when she got the letter saying she had been accepted on the Merit list.

  "I'm ready," said Ella, running out the door and coming to a halt in front of the two Gunslinger Deputies.

  The two deputies tipped their hats at the broom-wielding mother and without a word led Ella out to a short black sedan. A car was rare on Corvus, and a symbol of importance. Ella climbed into the backseat of the vehicle, and never looked back as the deputies pulled the vehicle out onto the road.

  Ella wasn't the kind of girl that squealed. She had always hated those kinds of girls, but she couldn't contain herself any longer. Ella squealed.

  "I'm a Merit, I'm a Merit!"

  She jumped up and down on the seat in the back. The two deputies said nothing, but the one driving did grin slightly. He had a daughter and understood her enthusiasm.

  "Where are we going? How long will it take? When do I meet my Gunslinger? Where are the other Merits?" Ella rattled question after question at the two men.

  "We are going to the Space Port," said the driver. "The other Merits are waiting. You will launch immediately to pick up your Gunslinger."

  Ella knew the requirement to be a Gunslinger. You couldn't apply. You had to be chosen. You had to perform a spontaneous act of fearless life-threatening self-sacrifice to be chosen. The Merits would be chosen specifically to fill in any deficient personality traits of that particular Gunslinger. Ella thought about all the news stories for the last six months. There had been several boys elevated to the rank of Gunslinger, but there hadn't been any girls. And they said they were going to launch to pick up the Gunslinger, so she wasn't on the planet, she was in space.

  "Oh my gosh," said Ella. "It's that girl from the Space Station, the Cargo-Jockey girl, Cora Carson. They must have made her a Gunslinger, but it wasn't picked up on the news." Ella pursed her lips together. It figures, thought Ella. Girls had been accepted as Gunslingers for thirty years, but some people still tried to fight it.

  She had gotten hold of the banned security Vid off Planet Net, an off-world hacker site. A micrometeorite had ripped open a hole in a space station, trapping seven children inside a cargo bay. Six of the children had space suits on at the time, but the seventh, a little boy, didn't. Ella had watched as Cora took off her space suit and put the little boy inside it and then carried the boy over to a tool cage. Cora then locked the little boy and the other five children inside the cage. Ella guessed why she had done that. Cora didn't want to take a chance of panicking when the air ran out and trying to take one of the kid's suits.

  Cora had then gone over to the other side of the cargo bay, sat behind some crates so the children wouldn't have to watch, and waited as the air escaped. Rescue crews had worked feverishly to get into the damaged bay, but they weren't fast enough. Cora had never given up, and she hadn't died easily. Cora clawed for air that wasn't there. It had taken nearly six minutes before Cora's body stopped moving. Ella had cried for hours before a news report flashed on the Vid saying Cora had been revived. A Carinian surgeon had performed a miracle and brought her back. Cora Carson was the bravest girl Ella knew of—she was perfect.

  The ride to the Space Port was uneventful, and Ella was bored. She was ready to get started. The Space Port wasn't large, and she wouldn't have even known she was there if it wasn't for the rows of old colony ships lined up along the road.

  They pulled up next to a small building near the landing pad. The driver turned and spoke to Ella over his shoulder. "This is it," said the Deputy. "Go in that building and wait until someone comes to get you."

  Ella got out of the car and walked over to the building. The two Deputies were already pulling away. Ella shrugged and opened the door. The room contained several old worn tables and chairs. Two Daemi boys sat together at a table at the far end of the room, and three girls at a table on the opposite side. Saddlebags were piled on the floor next to them. The girls looked up from a game of bone dice as Ella approached.

  "Hi, I'm Ella Anderson, I think I'm on Cora Carson's team."

  "Yeah, we were just talking about that. I think you're right. Hi, I’m Myra Bell."

  The girl stood, and Ella shook her hand. Myra had the look of a mountain girl, with a stock plain face and shoulders as powerful as a pack mule.

  The girl holding the bone dice stood and stuck out her hand. "Hey there, I'm Mae Breck. You’re a sheep farmer."

  “Yeah, how did you know?” asked Ella.

  “You got sheep crap on your boots,” replied Mae, grinning.

  Ella stubbornly held the girl’s penetrating gaze. It was a contest of wills. Ella suspected Mae was the kind of girl that never missed anything. Mae broke the contact first, winking mischievously and sitting back down.

  A light-haired girl stood last and leaned across the table to shake hands. "Hi, I'm Nora Tyler. There’s a K34 twin FTL-drive transport outside. I think that’s our ship.”

  Ella shook her hand. “You know about space ships?”

  “I grew up here at the port,” said Nora. “My father pilots the Corvus to Carina mail run.”

  “Do you know where the Academy is?” asked Ella.

  “No, but if we’re taking a K34, it’s probably a three or four-week trip. Those old transports are for short hops, but still, we’ll be in slow-sleep for the trip.”

  Ella nodded toward the two boys. "Who are they?" asked Ella.

  "Two of the nastiest creatures you can imagine," said Nora.

  "I thought all Daemi were nice."

  "Boys are boys, whether they have a tail or not," replied Mae.

  "Oh dang," said Myra. "Here they come again."

  The two boys walked over to the girl’s table, sneers on their faces, and stopped in front of the girls.

  "Well, well, now there's another one," said the darker scaled boy.

  Ella eyed the two boys up. Ella thought the first boy’s scales looked like smoky-red while the other one was a deeper rusty-red. She had only seen the tailless half-breed Daemi before. They would come to the farm occasionally looking for work, but these two were full-blood Daemi, and much larger. Their tails looked lethal, with a hard armored plate at the tip. It really did look like a demon barb. No wonder people feared the Daemi.

  "Yeah, they need a full crew," said Smoky. "Think how much laundry there will be to do."

  "Yep," replied Rusty. "And cooking."

  "Excuse me," said Ella. "We are assigned to a Gunslinger."

  The boys laughed and made a rude gesture with their tails.

  "Girls can't be Gunslingers," said Rusty. "They are too weak, and not smart enough."

  Ella temper flashed and she jumped on Rusty, swinging both fists, and got him a good one on the nose. The boy's nose exploded with blood. Ella grinned, satisfied. So, Daemi could bleed the same as anyone. Smoky tried to pull her off, and Ella jumped on him and started punching. The boy got a good smack in with his tail and split Ella's lip. That just made her madder, and she pulled her knee up hard. Smoky laughed at the futile effort. He was Daemi, and that wouldn't work on him.

  Ella remembered one of the books she had read about combat. The book explained that hand-to-hand combat had to be adjusted for the species you were fighting. She remembered something the book had said about the Daemi. Ella lunged forward, wrapped her arms around him, and grabbed the base of his tail. She dug her thumb into the fleshy part of his tail at the base where there weren't any of the armored reptilian scales. Smoky
screamed and convulsed in pain, then dropped to the ground, holding his tail and trying to crawl away.

  Ella let him go and jumped back on Rusty, pummeling him with her fists. A moment later, she felt a hand on the back of her shirt, and a man lifted her up in the air and held her there.

  "Whoa there little wildcat," said the Deputy. "Put your claws away, there will be plenty of time for that later."

  "She attacked me," yelled Rusty. "I want to press charges."

  "Gideon, Cole, go back to your corner. Sit down and shut up, or I'll let go of her," warned the Deputy.

  Both boys scrambled back for the corner table.

  "You calm now, wildcat?" asked the Gunslinger.

  "Yes, Sir," said Ella.

  The Gunslinger set Ella back down and let go, and she immediately ran for the boys. They saw her coming, flipped a table up, and hid in the corner from the crazy girl. Ella was clawing around the sides of the table trying to get to them when she felt a hand dragging her away. The Deputy dragged Ella across the floor toward the door.

  "I like your spirit, Wildcat," said the Deputy. "You don't let go of your prey, but there is a ship to catch, and we don't have time right now for you to flirt with the boys." The Deputy dragged Ella across the landing pad and up the ramp into a transport ship. The other girls followed, grinning the whole way. Once the ramp closed, he let go of Ella. "We take off in two minutes," said the Deputy.

  A Gunslinger came down from the flight deck and helped the girls buckle their harnesses.

  "That was awesome!" said Myra

  Ella grinned and wiped the blood off her lip.

  "Yeah, it was, wasn't it," said Ella.

  "Why were they so mean?" asked Nora.

  "Are you referring to the two Daemi boys?" asked the Gunslinger.

  "Yes, Ma'am," said Nora.

  "It's normal for Daemi boys to be out of control until they are in a Clutch with a strong Dominant," explained the Gunslinger. "We wait until we have all four of the Daemi Merits together in a room, and then we send the Dominant in."

  "What happens then?" asked Ella.

  "There will be a brutal fight," explained the Gunslinger. "The Dominant will beat them into submission, and that will be the end of any further nonsense."

  "The Dominant? Is that their Gunslinger?" asked Nora.

  "Yes."

  "We humans don't do it like that, do we?" asked Myra.

  "No, of course not," said the Gunslinger. "But, you will be with many species from many worlds. You must be tolerant of each other’s culture."

  "We will," promised Ella.

  The Gunslinger returned to the flight deck, and the engines roared to life. The ship lifted into the sky and headed for space. The first part of the trip lasted two days. The transport came alongside a space station and docked. The girls felt the pressure adjust and then a side hatch opened. The rotating space station simulated light gravity and a girl bounced in as one born to space. The girl stopped at the entrance and worked her jaw to pop her ears.

  “Hoya, flight deck,” the girl called out. “Adjust pressure to 14.7, you’re too high, you’ll bust a seal on the airlock.”

  The Lady Gunslinger stuck her head out of the hatch to the flight deck and looked down at the girl. “Thank you, we’re adjusting now, why don’t you go meet your Merits.”

  The girl glanced around the cabin and gave the girls in the seats a small wave. “These old K34’s never can maintain pressure correctly. Hello, my name is Cora Carson," said the girl. She wore a shiny new revolver at her hip.

  Nora’s faced beamed with excitement that someone else knew as much about spaceships as she did. Ella released her harness, stood in front of Cora, and then knelt.

  "We know who you are," said Ella. "We are your Merits. I saw the security camera recording of what you did, and how you suffered to save those kids."

  Cora's eyes darted to each girl uncomfortably. "Umm... you don't have to kneel to me, I'm not a real House Lady, and I've never even seen a Noble before."

  Ella remained on her knees. "I cannot promise you will never die again, but you will not die alone again," said Ella, remaining on her knees.

  Cora reached down and pulled Ella up. "Please, I don't know anything about being a Lady," said Cora, "but I can tell we are going to be great friends. I feel a lot better than I did a few minutes ago waiting for the ship to arrive." Cora looked at the four girls. She had never had anyone look at her with such complete love before. These girls had given her their hearts without question. "Where are we going?" asked Cora.

  "I don't know, they keep the Gunslinger Academy location a secret." said Ella."

  "Umm, okay. So, what's a Merit, and what exactly does a Gunslinger do?" asked Cora.

  The four Merits laughed and began explaining.

  Nine months later

  "Ella... Ella."

  Ella opened her eyes and looked at her Gunslinger. There were tears in Ella's eyes.

  "I know what you’re thinking," said Cora. "That happened to Tanner because he wouldn't listen to his Merits. I promise that will never happen to me. I'll always listen to you, my friend."

  Colt's team was standing next to Cora's team on the roll-call field. Colt heard what Cora said and turned to Toran and his team. He stared at them for a long moment. They had been trying to tell him how to be a Gunslinger since they first met, but he wasn’t listening. Was Tanner’s fate to be his as well?

  "Guys, I don't want that to be me someday," said Colt. "I'm sorry, I'll listen to what you say from now on."

  "You're in charge during combat," said Toran. "That's the way it's supposed to work, but I'm in charge the rest of the time. You can over-rule me, but that breaks down the system."

  "Yeah, you are only supposed to be thinking about the fight," said Wes. "Let us take care of the rest."

  "I get it," said Colt. "I'll listen, I promise."

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Festival Day

  Colt sat next to the window, staring out at the falling snow. The light snowfall from the night before had turned into a full winter storm. Drifts of snow were piling up against the side of the cabin, and classes had been canceled. Colt suspected the canceled classes had nothing to do with the storm. The students had spent the night in defensive positions around the camp and were too tired to sit in classrooms. The Marshal had been right, though, the Caelum Destroyer had landed at the salt mining colony on the other side of the planet and ignored the Gunslinger Camp.

  Colt slipped further down into the chair and listened to Toran calling out assignments. Toran had taken to his new responsibilities with a fervor now that Colt had stepped aside. Toran was sitting at the big round table, surrounded by crumpled pieces of paper and filling volumes of notebooks with long flowing scribble marks. Colt had picked one of the pieces of paper up to read it, but Toran was writing his notes in his native language.

  "Wes, could you inventory the closet?" asked Toran. "I need to know how much ammunition we have."

  "You got it, Boss," said Wes.

  "Austin, next time you're in the ammunition bunker grab some grenades," said Toran.

  "There's a crate of them in the shower room," said Austin.

  "You mean that lettuce box?" asked Colt, sitting up. “I’ve been sitting on that box when I turn all the hot water on to steam.”

  "No, those are incendiary rounds. The crate that says tomatoes are the grenades," replied Wes.

  "Oh—where's the lettuce and tomatoes?" asked Colt.

  "In the ammunition bunker, of course," said Wes.

  "Garth, I'd like you to take the heavy-arms course so we can get a grenade launcher issued to us," continued Toran.

  Garth grinned. He liked that idea. "You think I can take the automatic weapons course too?" asked Garth, "I want to upgrade my rifle,"

  "Good idea, Austin you take the shotgun class," said Toran."

  "Works for me, Boss," said Austin.

  "What about me?" asked Wes.

  "You can take the sniper
course, but I need you mainly concentrating on your pre-law studies," said Toran.

  "No problem, I’m studying with Nora," said Wes.

  "Colt, I need you to…"

  “I’m okay with my revolver,” interrupted Colt.

  Toran glanced up at Colt and raised a brow, or at least the bumpy thing above Toran’s eyes that passed for a Carinian brow.

  Colt raised his hands in submission. “Okay, okay, what do you need me to do?”

  "I want you to borrow a second holster and revolver from the armory," said Toran. "If you can learn to left draw and split targets, you will double your effectiveness."

  "That’s a good idea, no problem," said Colt.

  "Thanks," replied Toran, looking back down at his notebook. "That takes care of our weapon assignments, now for our flight specialties." Toran ripped a page out of the notebook, crumpled it up, and threw it on the ground with the rest of the growing pile of ideas he had discarded. "Austin, you're on pilot," said Toran. "Wes, you're on navigation and communication, Garth on turret, and me and Colt on command and dismount."

  "I'd like us all to have our own Darts," said Colt.

  "We aren't issued separate Dart ships until we are twenty-one years old," said Toran.

  "We aren't?" asked Colt.

  The boys looked uncomfortable and tried to pretend they were interested in something else.

  "What did I do now?" asked Colt.

  "If you hadn't been skipping the flight classes you would have known that," said Garth, unafraid to speak his mind.

  "I already know how to fly a Dart," said Colt

  Garth shook his head. “No, you know how to fly a crop duster, combat flying is different.”

  Colt almost argued, but nodded his head instead. “You’re right, I messed up,” agreed Colt.

  "We'll get you fixed, but you're going to have to bust your tail hard," said Toran.

  "You know, it’s not all my fault," protested Colt

  "Yes, it is," said Garth, in a rare mood. Garth almost never had anything bad to say about Colt's deficiencies. "Be a man and own up. Everything that goes wrong is your fault."