Starr vs the Emperor of Space Pt. 12

"Well, son," the man with the death ray rifle said. "It looks as if you've found it. Bag them."

Men stepped from the shadows and the last thing Mark saw of the scene was the black bag that swept over his head!

***

Jasmine Starr swung herself into the cockpit of the Atomo and cried out in pleasure and surprise as she saw that her gunner and engineer were both people she knew and recognized. The engineer, first, was none other than the proud and brave hawkwoman S'hira, who was sporting a new pip on the thin collar that made up the majority of the upper half of her uniform -- which, as it was, crisscrossed her chest with two bandoleers that barely covered her nipples, leaving most of her muscular shoulders, back, and belly exposed. Recognizing it from her study of the Hawkmen's military, Jasmine slapped her shoulder. "Promoted from Scannerwoman to full on Engineer!"

"The Prince was pleased with my service," S'hira said, grinning at her. "And when someone said that they needed a brave woman for your rocket crew, I was the first up."

"And Lancer!" Jasmine said, turning her gaze upon the Faeman gunner that was nestled in the seat to her right. He was working his hands along the controls, having already swung the scanner-scope down and locked it into place so he could easily operate the weaponry of the Atomo. "I thought you were a Rocket Ranger -- have you ever flown in the space forces before?"

"Of course," Lancer said, laughing. "We Rocket Rangers may work best with our Hell Lances on the surface, but I've flown a few atomic teakettles in my day." He flipped his dreadlocks back over his shoulder and flashed her a bright white grin against his midnight dark features. "Though, I did bring my rocket bike and Hell Lance along -- just in case we end up needing it."

"Are those any good in a space battle?" S'hira asked, sounding skeptical, as well she might considering a Hell Lance was little more than a long metal pole with a Void Burst Inferno Warhead -- a unique construction built by the Faemen's Rocket Rangers. They functioned by having an air filled cavity within the warhead, allowing the Hell Lance to focus the heat of the explosion into a penetrating blast that can cut through even the thickest, most heavily layered space steel armor.

"Of course!" Lancer said, nodding. "A rocket bike can fly in space as easily as it can on the ground -- I removed the ground effect fins and upped the monoatomic hydrogen fuel mixture so it has enough maneuverability. If we're in a close in orbit, I can pop out and lance a turret, or a cockpit." He nodded. "It may be a mite dangerous-"

"A mite dangerous!" S'hira exclaimed. "A mite suicidal, more like!"

"Maybe for a Hawkwoman," Lancer said, showing that some of the emnity between the two people of Venus had not fully subsided -- despite the recent marriage of Prince S'kye and Princess Snow.

"Settle down you two," Jasmine said, nodding as she strapped into her pilot cockpit. "We've got to get to Earth -- it'll be a hard run. Even with the raylight tug, how long are we looking at, S'hira?"

"It'll be a space month and change," S'hira said. "We're using the sun's illumination only -- if we risk using local travel ray stations, we could cut that down to a week or two, since the ray stations give us better acceleration than generalized solar light." She clicked her tongue. "And of course, there's our nuclear rocket engines, which can get us there a lot faster, but we won't have much to maneuver with."

"Hows Zardo's fleets looking?"

"Latest telescope observation puts most of their fleet in a trajectory towards Saturn, the base of his power," S'hira said. "So, a month in ultra-sleep won't be too bad."

Jasmine nodded, slowly.

Countdown came after the system checks. A hawkman voice rumbled over her headset.

"Three. Two. One."

Blastoff slammed into her as Jasmine felt the unspeakable joy rushing through her -- of the Atomo rushing towards the heavens! She trembled and rocked in her seat, her eyes half closing as she watched the wreathing clouds of Venus dropping away and the vast, glittering stars above replaced them. They sailed upwards, towards the raylight tug, which waited in orbit, its vast spectacular scale all the more remarkable after so much time on a planetary surface. Jasmine used her reaction control cold gas thrusters to adjust the trajectory of her nose and brought the Atomo neatly into a parking orbit beside the raylight tug, which sent forth small tender robot rockets, which hooked the Atomo into the ten thousand kilometer wide sail array.

And thus, with the stars aligned and the orbits in the best place they would be, the Atomo began to lift towards the night.

Jasmine sighed as she settled into her seat. "Anything we want to share, before we settle into our ultra-sleep?" She asked.

Lancer grinned. "Not that I can think of, Captain. I'm ready to see this Earth..."

"How are you going to convince the Brotherhood of the Stars to let you through?" S'hira asked. "The Sword fires on anyone who attempts to approach -- including Zardo's ships, including ours."

"Don't you worry about that," Jasmine said -- having thought of several possible plans. None quite seemed right yet, but she was more than happy to improvise when the time came to it. She adjusted herself in her seat, then frowned as she looked down at the telescopic observation map of the solar system -- at the many thousands of rocket plumes that traced their way across the vast solar system. One of the rockets that was traveling seemed to intersect with their course. She tapped it. "What rocket is this?"

"The Salty Sirius, out of Eros," S'hira said. "They're on a fast burn course for Mars, they'll reach it in about two space weeks."

Jasmine frowned.

The fast burn trajectory, the telescopic information on the rocket, they caught at her flexible and fast mind like a little a net snagging on the edge of a coral reef. She leaned back in her seat as the solar sails bloomed and the almost imperceptible pressure of the acceleration began to ghost her back into her seat. She tapped her screen again. "Five second ray delay for a communication..." she said, then picked up her microphone. She dialed in the Salty Sirius. "Rocket ship Salty Sirius, this is the Atomo, stop. We are interested in your course and need for haste. Stop. Your trajectory will cross ours. Stop. Do you need us to give greater way? End Communication."

"It's space, Captain," S'hira said, sounding faintly confused. "Our near pass is still larger than your largest Earth ocean."

"I'm curious, S'hira,' Jasmine said, smiling. "And a five second light lag is no nothing to us, we're going to be spending a month in ultra-sleep." She tensed as, ten seconds later, a communication ray came back. Rather than being text only, it was a visual beam, which transcoded itself into the grainy image of a grim looking red skinned woman, lovely beyond compare with a gleaming metal eyepatch on her face that covered her eye.

"Rocket Atomo, I don't normally respond to random strangers -- but I've never been on a course this important. Identify your captain or else, in two weeks, we'll have to continue this conversation with roundshot and sandcasters."

Jasmine whistled. "A pretty girl wants to kill me, be still my fluttering heart," she murmured, then shrugged, turning on the camera. "My name is Captain Jasmine Starr. I just wanted to be friendly, considering our future near meeting." She smiled, slightly. "But you seem a bit tense."

Ten seconds passed.

Then another ten.

Jasmine frowned. "You think she got mad at me?" she asked Lancer and S'hira who both looked skeptical.

Then Lancer cried out in shock. "Racing Rockets!" he said. "I recognize that woman!"

"You do?" Jasmine asked.

"That was Altair Polaris -- the Pirate Queen of Ceres!" Lancer said. "She's captured dozens of ships -- she's wanted for a hundred thousand Zardo dollars!"

Before Jasmine could respond, the screen flicked on.

Altair Polaris looked at Jasmine as if she had given a lifeline after some time afloat, drifting. Her eye shone with hope and she was leaning forward. Her voice was as controlled as she could be, but even so it betrayed a quaver of emotion that was impossible to repress. "Jasmine Starr," she said, quietly. "Do you know...Claudette T.S Grant?"

The name struck Jasmine's chest like a hammer blow. She put her hand to her breast, her mouth opening, then she spoke into the microphone camera. "Yes, yes I do!" she exclaimed. "Claudette...is she with you!?"

The ten seconds of delay were an agony -- waiting as the communication rays dragged themselves across the nearly infinite gulf of space between worlds and rockets in the careless depths of space. Jasmine barely heard the soft conversation between S'hira and Lancer, for S'hira had been there when Jasmine had learned, many months before, of Claudette's demise. Until now, Jasmine had never before had reason to hope...but now...but now! Her breath caught as the video screen flared once more to life and Altair Polaris spoke once more.

She explained, quickly, with curt sentences, of her chase -- hounding after a fast burn rocket fleeting from Eros towards Mars...

Bearing the living, if captured, body of Jasmine Starr's most closest, oldest friend.

Jasmine sagged back into her seat.

Then, with a growl, she spoke.

"S'hira...punch in navi-coordinates for Mars."

"Aye, captain, will we-" S'hira started.

"Maximum burn."

"Aye, captain!" S'hira tapped the controls. "Thanks to our alterations of the Atomo, your relatively primitive water tanks have been replaced with advanced space reaction mass tanks, filled to the brim with atomically stable monohydrogen." She flashed a wicked grin. "We'll be able to get there in two space weeks."

"Punch it!"

The Atomo cast free the solar sail and streaked away in a plume of radioactive hydrogen, towards the red star of Mars!

***

When the bag was swept away from Mark's head, he found that he and his comrades had been taken to a room of surprising fineness and splendor for a hidden base in the depths of a sprawling sewer. The chamber was round and tiered, allowing a large number of people to stand in the edges and look down at the bowl in the middle, which yet now contained him and his friends. The people in question were a staggering array of people -- Hawkmen, Faemen, Wolfmen, Tuskmen, even a scattering of Devilmen, Lizardmen and Batmen, all of them dressed in wide range of clothing, from the practical combat gear of your average soldier to the tattered finery of an on the run royal.

In short...

Mark stood before the Underground of Free People's.

A woman stepped forward from the mass and Mark's eyebrows shot right up -- for he had never seen a woman quite like her before. She was taller than he was by a solid two feet, with broad shoulders and breasts that rivaled Robin's bust for their bounty...but where she was most shocking was her digitigrade legs, splayed paws, and canine head, snout, and ears. Her shoulders were furred, her belly was a pale white to contrast her dark gray extremities, and her only set of clothing was a thin gauzy white shift that hung just above her chest, concealing little and promising much. Her brow was crested by a thin circlet of silver metal, and she looked down at him with a curious, speculative air. Mark coughed, while Robin chuckled.

"Oh but you have a type, don't you?"

"Quiet," Mark hissed, while the Wolfwoman flashed her sharp canines.

"So...you are Mark Styles, the famous human," she said. "Survivor of Aytan Zardo's arenas, kidnapper of Aytan Zardo's daughter, Zella..."

"Kidnapper, hell!" Zella hissed, stepping forward to stand beside Mark. "Mark did no more kidnap me than your people kidnapped us -- I came to him, freely, to fight against my vile father, to save the solar system from his wickedness." She took Mark's hand in hers, looking upon him, smiling slightly. "It's the only right thing to do."

Soft murmurs and cries of 'impossible!' came from the surrounding peoples -- but the wolfowman lifted her paw, silencing them. "The Star Princess Zella wishes to join the rebellion? You may accept that this is...hard for us to believe."

"How can I prove it to you, miss..."

"Senator," the wolfwoman said. "I am Senator Luna Lazuli, the last of the Wolfman Senate that has yet to be captured by Zardo. As for proving it..." Luna's paw caressed her muzzle. "That is something we can discuss."

"I say we have them do something for us, something to prove they're not in Zardo's pocket," a Devilman in heavy combat armor said. "They could lead a raid or give over some secrets."

"From our telescope observations of Zardo's ice castle on Pluton, we've already seen the damage they have done," a willowy faewoman said, adjusting her bright glasses over her dark red eyes. "They fought their way off the moon. What more can they do to show they truly stand against him?"

"What secrets does the Princess know?" A blond haired batman asked, his ears perking up, his lips turning down in a frown as if in opposition to his long, pointed ears. "Does she know Aytan Zardo's schemes?"

"Of course I do," Zella said, nodding. "He plans to take the Sword of the Stars for himself, so he might rule the Earth and use it as a base to then conquer more and more of the solar system, then the galaxy beyond."

"Balderdash!" A gruff lizardman with thick jowels around his jaw, swaying and catching the light like a pendulum, stepped forward and punched his knuckles into his palm. "To travel beyond a solar system is an impossibility for all but our ancestors -- and even they barely managed it. To dream of galactic conquest is beyond even the madness of Zardo!"

"Hear hear!"

"She's trying to con us into something-"

"Throw them into the gaol!"

Mark took Zella's arm, about to draw her back in the face of the ire, but she shook his grasp off, then stepped forward and lifted her fist above her head.

"Nothing is beyond the mind of my father!" Zella shouted, the voices ending. "You do not understand -- he is more than one thousand space years old. He has spent every one of those years, not just planning his revenge, but training for it. While your fathers and your father's fathers and father's father's fathers were building these glorious cities and these grand kingdoms, he was studying war, strategy, science! Where your experimentations were held back by ethics and scarcity of resources, he had neither, and so, has traveled further than your kingdoms ever had. Dream of the galaxy? No, my father does not dream. He plans! And lest the future of our stars be naught but Zardo's boot upon our face for all eternity, we must stop them! And we must stop them now!"

"Hear hear!" Rumbled several of the rebellion members, excitement taking them as Mark slapped Zella's shoulders, squeezing happily.

"Hold, hold..." Luna said, lifting her paws. "The Star Princess' words ring true. But they're a vision of a future evil, not a present one. What is Zardo doing in the near future that may bring this nightmare to pass?"

Zella blinked. "His forces are spread throughout the system. They can, even now, begin to burn towards the Earth -- the Sword of Stars can only cover one hemisphere at a time. He might lose half his forces, but so long as the other half land upon the moon and assault the Sword from the ground, it will matter not. He has bred his Clone Legions for this for centuries."

This provoked concerned murmuring and worried glances.

"But what if this is a lie, to spook us into movement before it is time?" A nervous sounding Devilman spoke.

"We can determine falsehood from truth," Luna said, clapping her paws together. "But for now, we shall act as if it is true -- we can scrub a launch easier than we can scramble one. Everyone, send the communication rays to your forces, and tell them to begin to prepare to launch their rockets. It is at the Moon where our fates will be decided."

Nods came all around and the rebellion began to step back and away -- the leaders ducking into side passages and slipping away, while Luna Lazuli stepped forward and placed her paw upon Mark's shoulder, looking down at him with a wry little smile. "Come," she said. "After your long quest, I'm sure we can find places for you each to stay." She turned and started to walk away, her tail wagging, the tautness of her large rump quite apparent, despite the gauzy whiteness covering her cheeks. Mark gulped, and then started as Robin elbowed him with a little smile.

The deeper recesses of the Underground's base were spartan and built for defense, with chokepoints and checkpoints every few meters it seemed. Leading their way through them, Luna asked Mark: "We heard rumors that there were others from Earth -- one Jasmine Starr and Claudette T.S Grant?"

"Yes, but...I haven't seen either for so long," Mark said. "I don't know if they're alive or dead."

"A shame," Luna said, shaking her elegant, wolfish head. "Each warrior on our side makes our future brighter. Including all of you." She looked back over her shoulder and grinned. "We've heard much of the Cybrid."

"I'm a fair hand at a fight, yes," Robin said, while Gennie blushed bright red, her fans whirring softly.

"I-I'm no warrior," she said, shaking her head. "I'm just...just a little serving bot. I'm of no use to anyone here in this grand adventure."

"Don't say that till we're done, Gennie," C'law said, his clawed hand clasping to the metal frame of the sensual service synthoid. "You never know till you know!"

They came to the living chambers, where Luna directed several tough and capable looking Underground resistance fighters to prepare chambers for them. Mark then felt her warm paw close around him, drawing him away as the Resistance fighters stepped over to begin assisting the rest of his party. He shot a look back at Zella, who gave him a little wink and a smile -- clearly, she was not concerned. And so, Mark pushed aside his own worries as Luna led him into what seemed to be her chamber. The bed was large, and the walls were sparse, the only decoration being a small tea set that was currently bereft of the water, flavoring, and heat to turn all three into delicious tea. This seemed to not bother Luna Lazuli at all, for instead, she said: "Earthman, do you know the way of us Wolfmen?"

"Well, no, ma'am. I find I'm learning new things here every day," Mark said, standing to a form of attention -- her bearing and attitude was so regal it was hard not to. "I...ah...I'm still getting used to the fact that you're so..."

"Ah, yes, the sexual dimorphism of space exhibits itself somewhat differently in wolfkind," Luna said, drawing up onto the bed, tucking her digitigrade legs under her as she rested upon one paw, looking at him through long, elegant, and extremely feminine lashes that accentuated her golden eyes. "Our ancestors designed us based off the humans of Earth, combined with animals taken by the original probe-rockets that were sent down to your planet's surface -- it was but luck of the draw that we ended up like this. But after fifteen hundred years...our people's have all come to rather like it."

Her paw slid along her side, slowly. "Do you like it, Earthman?" Her voice was a coy rumble. She lifted one leg, adjusting her position as she laid onto her side on the bed, the movement causing her shift to rile up her thigh, exposing more muscular, furred flesh.

"Senator Lazuli, are you trying to seduce me?" Mark asked, his voice playful as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"It's necessary, I assure you. For state security," Luna said, laughing roughly. "One in ten Wolfmen are born with tactile telepathy."