FREE Copy of My Latest Short Story
When an aging outlaw learns he is dying, he must try to recover a stolen treasure and set things right.
This short story takes place in the same universe as Day of the Devourer, but the characters and the tone of the story couldn't be more different.
Torst Janssen has been hiding from the law on a distant planet for two decades. When he finds out his health is failing and he only has a short time to live, he realizes he needs to right his old wrongs and recover a mysterious treasure he stole all those years ago so that at least someone can benefit from his mistakes.
“It’s the only choice, handsome,” Tellie said as the ship approached the sand-colored planet.
“Are you sure? I guess that's a stupid question. You’re a damn computer.”
“We are nearly out of fuel and several systems need repairs. You are also looking pale and coughing a lot. This is a mining colony. There are human workers here who probably need medical care and have a clinic and medical staff. I have run the calculations. This is the most optimal solution.”
“Okay,” Torst said in the midst of a coughing fit, “Fine. Call ‘em.”
Torst slouched over the control panel, wincing and peered through the windscreen. Dim lights shone through the beige mist as the faint electronic sound of the signal went out to the colony.
A calm, but staticky voice said, “Nerthuz colony interstellar traffic control here. Identify yourself.”
“This is freighter Absolution requesting space dock,” Torst said, “I’m running low on fuel due to a leak. I also have a crew member who needs medical attention.”
“Your call signal doesn't check out. Says your freighter is called the Triumphant.”
“Well, it’s my damn ship and I just renamed it. Is that okay with you?”
“Sounds like a stolen ship, but what the hell do I care? You wouldn't be the first outlaw on this planet. Stand by. Beaming you coordinates. When you land, you might want to hang tight before you try to transport any crew members to the clinic. There’s an acid storm brewing at that location. You don’t want to get caught in it.”
A violent coughing fit overcame Torst as the ship descended. His throat burned. An unseen weight began crushing his chest. Tears blurred the ship’s controls around him. Tellie took control and landed the ship as he jumped to his feet, then collapsed across the pilot’s chair.
The faint crackle of interstellar traffic control guided Tellie through the landing sequence when the data cylinder dropped out of the pocket of his flight jacket and rolled across the floor. A desperate fire suddenly ignited in his muscles, and he bolted to his feet. He would die soon. He could feel it. He would die in a pool of his own vain guilt and no one would ever know about the secrets inside that cylinder if he did not get help right now. Even through the tears streaming down his eyes, he could see the towers of the mining colony standing only a hundred meters away. He lunged toward the hatch.
“Don’t open it, handsome,” Tellie said, “The controller said to wait until the storm passes.”
Sign up with your email address to receive a FREE e-book copy of my latest short story, Flight of the Absolution as well as news and updates about new releases and exclusive offers.
