Star Runners Read online

  Star Runners

  L.E. Thomas

  Contents

  Star Runners

  Become a Star Runner!

  Also by L.E. Thomas

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Become a Star Runner!

  Sneak Peek at the next adventure

  Galactic Legion Squadron Patches

  Galactic Legion Squadron Patches

  Galactic Legion Squadron Patches

  Galactic Legion Squadron Patches

  About the Author

  Star Runners

  A novel by L.E. Thomas

  Copyright © 2014, 2015, 2017

  Shadow Max Publishing

  All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced in any form without written permission of the Publisher. Brief quotations may be used for inclusion in articles published for noncommercial use including written news articles and reviews.

  For permission

  requests, write to [email protected], addressed

  “Attention: Permissions Coordinator”

  All characters in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to events or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Edited by Monique Happy Editorial Services

  www.moniquehappy.com

  Cover art by Andrei Bat.

  Created with Vellum

  Become a Star Runner!

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  Also by L.E. Thomas

  Star Runners

  Star Runners: Revelation Protocol

  Star Runners: Mission Wraith

  Star Runners: Scorpions

  For the latest information on Star Runners,

  visit www.StarRunners.net

  In memory of Max Thomas.

  1

  Warning signals flashed a bright red. Laser fire splattered across his forward view, the energy battling against his shields. His Legion X4 Trident fighter craft couldn’t take much more from the Tyral Pirates bearing down on him from above.

  He yanked back, the stick crackling under stress. The stars spun as he veered away from his attackers, flying deeper into the asteroid field, banking and turning as he increased speed. He checked his sensors; three pirates still on his tail, one closer than the others. He risked a glance in his rear view. The pirates in their modified Tridents pursued like bloodhounds catching a fresh scent.

  “Could use a little help, Razor,” Austin Stone said under his breath.

  Razor engaged a pair of fighters on the far side of the asteroid field. They had split up in the furball of spacecraft that was crashing together during the start of the engagement: Razor taking the four bogeys on the right, Austin zeroing in on the other three. Razor made quick work of the first two pirate craft, knocking them out with missile fire. Austin did the same with the first bogey, but the other two refused to go down.

  Four new pirate Tridents appeared, bearing down from the rear. The incoming bogeys were too far away for identification. Austin wondered if one of them might be Scorpion.

  “Razor,” he said, pressing the headset microphone closer to his mouth, “we’ve got more bogeys coming in. Looks like they’ve just spawned.”

  He glanced at the time; it was almost over.

  Pulling the Trident’s power from the shields to the engines, Austin veered his fighter around one of the larger asteroids, nearly skipping across the surface of the massive rock. Crimson lasers flashed past his fighter’s nose, blasting asteroid chunks into space. A little faster and he would be out of sight. When the laser fire stopped, he escaped the enemy’s crosshairs. He slammed his engines into full reverse, spinning the Trident horizontally and bringing his fighter to a full stop. Keying for missile activation, his fingers rested on the trigger. He watched the asteroid spin for a moment before his prey zipped around the edge of the rock. Austin fired.

  The cockpit image rocked as the missile shot forward. His enemy had fired off two laser bursts, but it was too late. Austin smiled as the missile struck the enemy’s cockpit and the pirate exploded.

  “Nice shot, Rock,” Razor said, his voice surrounded with static.

  Austin glanced at the sensors; the four incoming bogeys flew alone. Razor had taken out his two targets and the remaining bogey on his tail. “Good. We’ve got less than two minutes.”

  He balanced the power systems, diverting energy back into the shields. He brought the Trident over the giant asteroid. The four incoming pirate fighters flew in a tight formation. He keyed for a twelve o’clock view. Above, sulking behind a perfectly sized asteroid, floated the darkened silhouette of Razor’s Trident. Razor had powered down the fighter to avoid being picked up on a sensor sweep, but left the wings lowered below the fuselage.

  Good idea, Austin thought. I’ll draw them out.

  He popped his knuckles and rested his right hand on the stick. His fingers flew across the keys, diverting most of the shield power forward while putting the remaining energy into the engines. He glanced down: one missile left. It would be just enough for his plan to work.

  The Trident shot forward like a dart and Austin watched his speed reach maximum. Alerted to his presence, the four bogeys split into pairs. One pair maneuvered right while the other remained focused on him. He keyed for missile activation and tried for a lock. The moment his crosshairs settled on the lead fighter, the target craft pulled up. He changed course to match. Two more seconds and he would have him. Despite enemy fire pelting his fighter’s underbelly, he remained trained on his mark.

  The warning tone screeched. His display flashed red: Shields were down thirty percent. His crosshairs finally showed a lock; the steady high-pitched buzz of the missile gearing up filled the air. He squeezed the trigger and watched the missile smash into his enemy. The pirate fighter disintegrated, but three more bore down on him.

  He pulled back on the stick and turned for safety, speeding towards the same massive rock that had saved him before.

  As enemy laser bolts filled the space around him, Austin pulled left and back again, zigzagging across the asteroid field, avoiding spinning rocks and pirate fire. His shields dropped to ten percent. He pressed two keys and shifted all power to the engines and rear shields. The cockpit controls sizzled, sparks showering the display.

  Razor erupted from his hiding place, his lasers spitting a lethal red onslaught. The fire shattered into an enemy fighter, sending it twirling into the asteroids. Another craft spun away damaged, crashing into a cloud of smaller rocks. The remaining pirate veered for the safety of an asteroid cluster. Austin changed course to pursue.

  He diverted all power into his lasers, leaving his shields with none, and squeezed off two bursts. He missed. The identification of the enemy fighter popped on the display as his crosshairs fell on the target.

  “I knew it,” he said.

  Scorpion.

  “I’m going after him.”

  Austin looked at the sensors. Razor’s Trident flew out of position, but he banked left to swing
back into the fight. Austin was closer to the final enemy. He blinked away fatigue and sat up in his seat.

  “Come on, come on,” Austin said, squeezing off several shots. His damaged Trident strained as he coaxed more power out of the engines.

  Scorpion’s Trident reached the asteroid cluster and shot upward, disappearing behind the rocks. Austin pulled back gently on the stick and rested his crosshairs on the top half of the cluster. The moment Scorpion decided to make his big reveal, it would be all over, and they would finally have victory. His pulse quickened. He pressed forward toward the top of the cluster. His fingers rested on the trigger as he waited on Scorpion to fly out into the open. A shadow passed over his crosshairs, and he fired.

  An asteroid shattered into pieces. Austin sank into his seat and exhaled, cursing himself for giving away his position.

  “Rock,” Razor said, “he’s looped back around the bottom of that cluster! Get out of there!”

  His earphones released the familiar high-pitched wail, signaling Scorpion had missile lock. Austin pulled back on the stick and sent the stars spinning. He keyed for a flare in hopes that it would divert the inbound missile. Austin watched the small red dot on his sensors inch closer. He put power into his shields and saw it fluctuating at ten percent. After searching for a solution, he released the stick as the missile made contact and everything went dark.

  Austin gazed at the dark green text on the screen:

  Game Over

  He waited for the session report. When the screen updated, his friend Josh Morris, nicknamed Razor, had eight kills in the ten-minute match. Austin had three. It wasn’t too bad considering it was the elite server. The session report transitioned to the server’s overall standings. The best of the best competed on the elite server and Austin, sitting at number six in the standings, was as good a pilot online as anyone else. Of course, Josh edged him in the standings, currently second only to Scorpion, who boasted thousands of kills without a single defeat. Somehow, Scorpion always showed up when they were having a perfect session.

  Austin slipped off his headset and buried his face in his hands. The computer beeped, notifying him of an instant message.

  RAZOR: Tough break tonight man.

  ROCK: Yeah. You get him?

  RAZOR: No. We chased around the ‘roid field for a while, but I couldn’t get him. Session timed out. Nite.

  ROCK: Right. See you tomorrow.

  Austin logged out and turned off the monitor. He spun his chair around to face his room. A collage of sports posters, spaceships, and bikini-clad women covered the walls, including an eight-by-ten image of the Trident, the best fighter on all the servers. Dirty clothing topped with empty bags of chips and pretzels littered the floor, concealing the carpet. Laundry doesn’t get done on Labor Day weekend.

  He sighed. The special online tournament of Star Runners would end at midnight and the weekend would be over. His skin stuck to the back of the old leather chair as he stood and stretched. Kicking over a pile of dirty shirts, he stumbled to the door and walked down the hall.

  The dark living room flickered in the blue light of late-night television. His mother was slumped on the couch, one leg draped over the coffee table while the other was stretched on the armrest. A melting carton of ice cream sat on the side table. It squished as he picked it up.

  “Cal? Is that you?”

  Austin winced. “No, Mom. Just me.”

  She mumbled and tucked in her legs. Austin placed the ice cream in the freezer, grabbed a grape-flavored Popsicle and closed the door. Shuffling his feet across the carpet, he ignored the fact he had to go back to school tomorrow. He picked up the blanket from behind the couch and placed it over his mother. She murmured.

  He sat in the recliner and flipped stations, passing the nightly dramas and ending on the news. According to the weather lady, it would be a stormy week. Perfect.

  Austin turned the TV off and looked at his sleeping mother. He stood and stretched. The clock ticked above the fireplace and rang the bell to announce it was eleven o’clock. He exhaled and went to his room, leaving Mom in the living room.

  As he shut the door, he glanced at his computer. He looked at the alarm clock, then back at the computer. Josh is at the top of the standings, and Austin had settled for sixth.

  One more game won’t hurt.

  * * *

  The alarm clock set off a muffled buzz. Austin rolled over to hit snooze but knocked the clock to the carpeted floor, his dirty laundry cushioning the fall. He grumbled, swinging his legs out from beneath the covers. He rubbed his eyes and leaned over to silence the alarm. As he stood, his tired reflection in the mirror stared back. His brown hair hung over eyes half shut. Dryness invaded his mouth. His elbow ached. He must have slept with his mouth hanging open and his arm off the edge of the bed.

  After a shower, Austin inched down the hallway. He stopped when he reached the kitchen. Mom sat at the table, staring into a bowl of soggy cereal. Her sandy-colored hair tangled in swirls and curls as it fell away from her head. She wore the same red T-shirt and tattered gray sweatpants as the day before. She gazed at him with bloodshot eyes for a moment before smiling.

  “Good morning.”

  Austin walked into the room, his socks sliding across cracked linoleum. “Morning.”

  He grabbed a breakfast bar with one hand and a glass in the other. Rubbing his elbow, he poured some milk and collapsed into the chair across from her. She studied him with light blue eyes.

  “How late were you up last night?”

  “I don’t know.” He crunched on the bar, tasting the sweetness of the strawberry center.

  “What do you mean, ‘I don’t know’?’”

  “I mean I don’t know. I didn’t check the time.”

  She pointed at his face. “You need to take better care of yourself, young man. You need to keep your grades up and stay healthy for ball in the spring.”

  “I’m seventeen, Mom, give me a break.”

  “Don’t give me that. If I didn’t say anything, you’d never leave that game. You’d still be in there. I sometimes wish your father had never bought you that computer.”

  She grimaced and stared at him for a moment. With worry creased between her eyes, she reached over the table and placed her soft hands over his. “I shouldn’t have said that, honey.”

  Austin grabbed his milk and drained it. “I have to go. I’ll be late for school.”

  He left her sitting alone with her rapidly dissolving cereal and lukewarm milk.

  * * *

  The dull roar of the lunchroom surrounded him. The noise increased, each student yelling over the other. Laughter mixed with hushed profanity. School gossip spread around the tables. Austin sat with Josh on the far side of the lunchroom under the stained skylight. They sat in the designated area all seniors congregated to.

  Josh engulfed his second sandwich and grabbed a dozen chips, hurling them into his mouth. He glanced around the room as if he was waiting for something more exciting to happen. His leg bounced like a jackhammer under the table, his muscular frame barely fitting into the blue plastic chair. With his closely cropped hair and sharp blue eyes, Josh looked like a poster-boy for a military recruitment center.

  “You gonna eat that?” Josh asked, reaching for Austin’s bag of pretzels.

  “Go ahead.”

  Stealing the pretzels, Josh leaned back. Austin stared out the window at the sunlight. Beams of light shined down from the skylight, creating shimmering pools on the tile floors.

  “You ready for the game this weekend?” Austin asked.

  “I guess so,” Josh said and shrugged. He might be the best player in the region and one of the most prominent to play at Central High School, but he never cared too much about the game. “You coming?”

  “Sure, I’ll be there.”

  Josh glanced over his shoulder and leaned forward. “You up for Star Runners tonight?”

  He grinned.

  When they both bought Star Runners, it had
been on the market for almost a year. The game’s popularity soared at first, and everyone at school talked about it. No longer a popular topic, Austin and Josh kept their addiction to themselves.

  “Sure, I think I could fit it in.”

  “Fit what in?”

  Josh’s eyes grew wide as Nicole Snell plopped down in the chair next to him, leaning on his shoulder. Her brown hair frizzed from her head, bouncing on her shoulders like it was alive. Her neon pink shirt glowed so bright it looked electrified, but the strength of her perfume quickly overpowered her fluorescent shirt.

  “Nothing, Nicole,” Josh said, the energy leaving his face.

  Nicole had followed Josh most of the year, always appearing just as he talked about Star Runners. She asked him another question just as a slap echoed across the lunchroom. Yellow and brown banana fragments launched into the air and landed on their table. Josh slammed his hands down and spun around. Banana oozed down his back, saturating his shirt. Austin stared, not sure what had happened.

  Josh marched toward the source of the flying food. The table with the wrestling team and their girlfriends was bursting with laughter. Josh stopped and spoke to one of the team’s best wrestlers, Walt Taylor, a beast of a student with arms thick as tree trunks.