Hey RPA! Been working on this space opera type story that I've recent;y started writing. Let me know what you think. Critisicm of all kinds welcome! This is a piece of the first chapter.....
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Chapter 1
The last sun was setting and the cold of the night was creeping closer by the minute. But there was still work left to be done. He wasn’t the first to arrive to the scene but he would be the last to leave. Perhaps he didn’t truly believe it what i he saw now. Death was as fickle as the rocks that cracked beneath his boot. Maybe that was what took him so long to arrive. There were some things you had to see for yourself. He owed this corpse that much.
“How much blood do the Paladins wish to spill?! This planet is a lost cause! They're savages that don’t deserve to be saved!”
“We don’t know what happened, Galahad. Tis a crime scene.”
“Tis bullshit! There’s not a scratch on him!”
As Galahad and Pless argued the man stepped closer to the fresh corpse and knelt closer his face. It was the face of their mentor, their master. Azon of the clan Nubrecca; Eclipser of light and Claimer of souls. One of the system’s most noted warriors and more importantly Grand Paladin of the Black Blades. The soldiers of fortune whose blades were for sale on any planet, or more accurately put: they were a mercenary band that traveled the galaxy killing bandits and over throwing rebellions. Or helping them. It all depended who paid.
“We signed a contract with their government. Rid them of the infestation. Nothing more. Our personal matters are of our own to deal with”, Pless spoke with his usual voice of reason.
“Personal matters? Are you saying, you don't think these people had something to do with this?” Galahad was growing more irritated at Pless as was usual.
“Do you know of anyone who could defeat Azon in combat?”
“None except maybe your cousin. Speaking of...has he even moved from that spot yet?”
“No.” Pless’s face was a model of concern as he looked over at the man crouched by Azon’s body.
Ches ignored the two of them and let himself gaze upon Azon’s body for a while longer. Before long the Council that belonged to the Black Blades would call for a hearing on his death and his body would most likely be given to his clan on their home planet of Zeleta. The Nubrecca clan was extremely ceremonious, as was all of Zeleta. Like most Zelts, Azon’s light blue face was smooth and unblemished. His battle armor was all intact and none of his body looked damaged. He even had his journal with him, which Ches kept tucked secretly in his jacket. All that was missing was his weapon, which sparked the argument between Galahad and Pless in the first place.
“No man can wield the Eclipser, except those it chooses. One unassuming touch could result in your hand erupting in flame. We have to assume Azon hid it.”
Galahad scoffed loudly. He was never one for tradition or a firm believer in the legends and ceremonies their circle was seeped in. But one thing was certain, each member of the Black Blades forged their weapon from the rock of a falling star. And as such, whether mystical or scientific the metal forged was bonded to that wielder alone. If the Eldest Gods deemed you worthy then your weapon would be forged successfully, and you would wield a power higher than the reaches of mortal beings. If you were deemed unworthy, then the moment you touched the ore scavenged from the fallen star, you would have been swept up an unrelenting inferno.
And of all of those weapons the Eclipser ruled them all. Destined to be used by the leader of the Black Blades, it held power that even Azon still had yet to discover. In the wrong hands…
“We don’t know that for sure”, Ches said getting to his feet and walking back over to his two favorite headaches. Dust kicked up off the ground as he walked and he wondered how anything managed to survive on this side of the planet.
“Well the Geonans can’t be blamed. Why would they pay us, just to kill us?” Pless inquired.
“Because they eat their own young…”
“Galahad the ever judgmental human. Didn’t you have egg stuck in your beard this morning.”
“That’s not the same, whelp. Any man who--”
“Quiet!” Ches drew his sword. They were not alone. Not anymore.
The three of them stood in the rocky valley, motionless. Each of them had their weapons drawn now and was scanning the ledges above. From behind them pebbles of rock slide down onto the ground and Galahad was the first to sense movement.
“Up top! To the left!”
As they turned and looked up, there stood above them the object of their recent employment. Five infected Geonans stood above them, slouching but standing. They were nothing more than corpses now but their bodies still functioned under the control of by what researchers on the planet now believed to be a parasite. With only their base animal instincts to guide them they truly were the reanimated corpses of horror tales. The small tribes that were infected in the outskirts of the planet died only to be walking husks of their former selves. Cognitive enough to only serve one purpose. To sustain their own lives.
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