Fugitives of Xdron T h a n o s K a l a m i d a s ParT of The dimelacTic sagas fUgiTiVes of X dron Thanos Kalamidas Ovi ebooks are available in Ovi/Ovi eBookshelves pages and they are for free. If somebody tries to sell you an Ovi book please contact us immediately. For details, contact: ovimagazine@yahoo.com No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior permission of the writer or the above publisher of this book An Ovi eBooks Publication 2024 Ovi eBookPublications - All material is copyright of the Ovi eBooks Publications & the writer C Fugitives of Xdron Fugitives of Xdron Thanos Kalamidas Part of the Dimelactic Sagas Thanos Kalamidas An Ovi eBooks Publication 2024 Ovi eBookPublications - All material is copyright of the Ovi eBooks Publications & the writer C Fugitives of Xdron T he Lt3, a patchwork spaceship barely hold- ing together, hummed uneasily as it glided through the kaleidoscopic haze of the Argon Nebula. The cockpit was cramped, with mismatched chairs, flickering monitors, and a console panel that had clearly been repaired with duct tape and wishful thinking. “G’bosd, I’m telling you, this route is a bad idea,” Trig Sjorn growled, leaning back in the co-pilot’s seat, his icy-blue fur bristling slightly. “Librietum drones love this place. One sensor ping and ...boom, we’re toast.” “Relax, Trig,” G’bosd replied, his thin, two-meter frame hunched over the controls. He scratched one of his pointy ears, a nervous tic. “The nebula scram- Thanos Kalamidas bles their scanners. We’re practically invisible here. Plus, this shortcut gets us to Xit three days faster. And those Luminox bottles aren’t going to sell them- selves.” “I’m not dying for some glowing booze,” Trig shot back. Ryaa, the solid rock-morph, leaned against the cockpit wall, her gravelly voice cutting in. “You’re not dying. If anything, the ship is. G’bosd, I swear, this thing’s held together by S’jan’s chewing gum and prayers.” “Hey! I resent that,” came a voice from the inter- com. S’jan, the shorter Koelian mechanic, chimed in from the engine room. “First of all, it’s very high-qual- ity gum . Second, the ship’s fine. Mostly.” “Mostly?” Trig snorted. “You mean except for the engine that sounds like it’s coughing up a hairball?” “It’s vintage!” S’jan protested. “Quiet, all of you!” G’bosd barked. “We’re perfectly safe...” A sharp beeping interrupted him. A glowing red light blinked on the console. Fugitives of Xdron “Great. What now?” Ryaa grumbled, crossing her rocky arms. “Distress signal,” G’bosd said, squinting at the monitor. “Looks like a ship about thirty clicks ahead. No movement.” “Leave it,” Trig said immediately. “Could be a trap. Or worse, someone actually needing help. Either way, not our problem.” “Trig,” G’bosd said, leaning back and swiveling his chair dramatically, “we’re smugglers, not monsters.” “You’re a pilot pretending to be a captain. Big dif- ference.” “I am the captain!” G’bosd shot back, thumping his chest indignantly. S’jan’s voice crackled over the intercom again. “Guys, I’ve got twenty creds saying G’bosd gives a stupid speech about ‘morality’ in three, two...” “We have a moral responsibility to...” G’bosd be- gan. “Called it!” S’jan crowed. “Fine!” G’bosd snapped. “But we’re checking it out. Thanos Kalamidas And S’jan, get that twenty creds ready for my speech later .” The Lt3 carefully approached the source of the dis- tress signal. The battered spacecraft drifted lifelessly, its hull scorched and pockmarked with what looked like plasma burns. “Looks like it’s been through hell,” Ryaa muttered. Trig scanned the ship’s exterior. “No weapons on- line. Life support barely functional. Two heat signa- tures.” “See? They need us,” G’bosd said, puffing out his chest. “Or they’re bait,” Trig countered. Ignoring him, G’bosd opened the comms channel. “This is Captain G’bosd of the Lt3 . Do you require assistance?” Static crackled, followed by a gruff, labored voice. “This...is Xyon of Xdron...our ship’s been...attacked. Request...help...” “Xdron?” Trig hissed, his fur bristling. “They’re imperialists! Militaristic, aggressive, and notoriously ungrateful.” Fugitives of Xdron “And apparently dying,” G’bosd said, steering the ship closer. “S’jan, prep the medbay. Ryaa, help me get them onboard.” Minutes later, two hulking figures slumped onto the Lt3’s cargo bay floor. Xyon and Xia were unmis- takably Xdronian, massive, with four muscular arms each and thick, segmented skin that gleamed faintly under the fluorescent lights. Their faces were hard, chiseled, and radiated exhaustion. “Thanks,” Xyon rasped, clutching his side. “We barely escaped... Emperor Xkin...” “Wait,” Trig said, stepping forward. “ The Emperor Xkin? The same one who enslaved half the Tarrian Belt?” “Yes,” Xia said, her voice hoarse but steady. “He’s building weapons...plans to expand his empire. No system is safe. We need to warn the Libretium.” G’bosd scratched his ear again. “And what exactly were you doing, running from your own emperor?” “We defied him,” Xyon said. “We were...soldiers. We couldn’t stomach his atrocities anymore.” Trig folded his arms, unconvinced. “Great. Former Thanos Kalamidas imperialists and a sob story. Let’s not all applaud at once.” “Trig!” G’bosd snapped. “We don’t have time for this,” Ryaa interjected. “Scanners just picked up three ships heading our way. Fast.” G’bosd’s ears twitched. “Pirates?” “Probably. And I’ll bet my left rock they’re after our cargo,” Ryaa said. S’jan appeared from the engine room, wiping oil off his hands. “Guessing the pirates aren’t here for tea and crumpets?” “Not unless crumpets come with laser cannons,” Ryaa quipped. Trig’s eyes widened as he checked the console. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me. G’bosd, one of those crates has a transponder. They’ve been tracking us since the nebula!” “You’re blaming me?” G’bosd said, feigning inno- cence. “You loaded the crates!” Fugitives of Xdron “Minor detail!” “Guys,” S’jan interrupted, “we can argue about who’s incompetent after we don’t die.” The Lt3 burst out of the nebula into open space, the three pirate ships closing in. G’bosd gripped the controls, his two hearts pounding as warning lights flared across the dashboard. “Trig, man the guns! S’jan, get me more power to the thrusters! Ryaa, do something...rocky!” “‘Rocky?’ Seriously?” Ryaa said, deadpan, before stomping toward the hull to reinforce weak spots with her morphing abilities. The pirates opened fire, plasma bolts streaking past the Lt3 “Evasive maneuvers!” G’bosd yelled, yanking the controls. “Evasive?” Trig shouted back. “I’d settle for effective maneuvers!” The ship jolted violently as a shot grazed their rear thrusters. “Thrusters are at fifty percent!” S’jan called out. Thanos Kalamidas “Thanks for the update, Captain Obvious!” Trig snarled, firing back with the ship’s meager cannons. One of the shots clipped a pirate ship’s wing, sending it spiraling. “Nice shot, Trig!” G’bosd cheered. “Don’t celebrate yet,” Trig said grimly. “Two more to go, and they’re not happy.” Another barrage rocked the ship. Sparks flew, and alarms blared. “S’jan!” G’bosd shouted. “We need speed, or we’re dead!” “Then start saying your prayers,” S’jan yelled back. “This engine’s held together by faith at this point!” G’bosd clenched his teeth. “Fine. Then let’s give them something to chase.” He punched a button, releasing the ship’s emergen- cy flare—a bright, searing ball of light that temporar- ily blinded the pirates’ sensors. “Go, go, go!” G’bosd yelled, steering the ship into a nearby asteroid belt. The Lt3 weaved through the massive rocks, the pi- Fugitives of Xdron rates in pursuit. “Remind me,” Trig growled, “why I signed up for this lunacy?” “Because I’m an amazing captain,” G’bosd replied. “And you’re paying us peanuts,” S’jan added. “Shut up and keep us alive!” As they dodged through the asteroids, Ryaa hurled a boulder into the path of one pirate ship, obliterat- ing it. “One left,” G’bosd muttered. The final pirate ship closed in, its cannons charg- ing. “Captain,” S’jan called urgently, “we’re out of tricks!” G’bosd grinned. “Not yet.” He yanked the controls, sending the Lt3 into a spin. At the last second, he angled the ship toward a massive asteroid and skimmed its surface. The pirate ship wasn’t so lucky, smashing into the rock and ex- ploding in a fiery burst. Thanos Kalamidas The crew erupted into cheers, but G’bosd slumped back in his seat, exhausted. “See?” he said, panting. “Told you we’d be fine.” Trig glared at him. “Next time, I’m voting for the long way.” “You’ve beeter do it fast because ...another one is coming.” Fugitives of Xdron II. The Lt3 bucked violently as another blast of plasma fire skimmed its hull. The alarms screamed in pro- test, the cockpit bathed in a harsh red glow. “Shields are down to 30%!” S’jan’s voice crackled over the intercom. “Wonderful!” G’bosd shouted, yanking the con- trols hard to the left to dodge an asteroid. “I love a good challenge before breakfast!” “You don’t eat breakfast!” Trig barked from the co-pilot seat. His frosty-blue fur bristled as he wres- tled with the weapon controls. “Why do we even have shields? They’re about as useful as paper in a plasma storm!” Thanos Kalamidas “Complain later! Shoot now!” G’bosd snapped, his pointy ears twitching furiously. In the dimly lit engineering bay, S’jan scrambled across the room, clutching a plasma torch in one hand and a roll of adhesive tape in the other. Sparks flew from the overworked reactor core as it groaned under the strain. “Keep her together, baby,” he murmured, patting the reactor’s casing like a beloved pet. “You’ve sur- vived worse... Okay, maybe not worse, but still!” The ship jolted again, sending him sprawling. “G’bosd! If you keep flying like that, you’ll be hauling me back in pieces!” “Noted!” G’bosd called back through the intercom. “Now make us some more guns or a miracle—your pick!” Back in the cockpit, Trig managed to fire off a blast from the Lt3’s sole functioning turret. The shot struck one of the pirate ships, but the damage was superficial. “Great, we’ve officially scratched their paint!” Trig growled. “That’ll show ’em.” Fugitives of Xdron “They’re closing in!” Ryaa’s gravelly voice came from behind them. She had reinforced the cockpit’s interior with part of her rocky body, her hands now reshaped into jagged shields. “Can you throw something at them?” G’bosd asked desperately. “I’m not a catapult,” Ryaa shot back. “But if you get me close enough, I can rip something off their ship.” “Noted,” G’bosd muttered. Meanwhile, in the cargo bay, Xyon and Xia stood guard over the crates of Luminox bottles. The two Xdrons looked more at home in battle than in the wrecked remains of their previous ship. “Are we seriously trusting them?” Trig’s voice crackled through Xia’s comm earpiece. “You don’t have a choice,” Xia replied sharply. “We’ve fought pirates before. Your pilot doesn’t stand a chance without us.” Xyon hefted one of the ship’s older turret control- lers onto his broad shoulder, his four arms working in tandem. “Just point us in the right direction. These scum won’t know what hit them.” Thanos Kalamidas “Fine,” Trig grumbled. “But if you even think about betraying us...” “Relax, furball,” Xia said. “We’d rather not die out here either.” The pirate leader’s voice crackled over the comms, dripping with arrogance. “This is Captain Vrek of the Shadow Fang . Surrender your cargo, and we might let you limp away with your lives.” G’bosd flicked on the comms, his voice brimming with forced confidence. “Captain Vrek! I hate to break it to you, but we’re on a very tight schedule. Any chance you could just go rob someone else?” A deep, guttural laugh echoed through the speak- ers. “Foolish Koelian. Do you even know what you’re carrying? Those Luminox bottles don’t just contain exotic booze—they hold Kaelion Venom. Worth more than this rust bucket you call a ship.” The crew collectively froze. “Venom?” Ryaa said, her gravelly tone laced with disbelief. “The deadliest toxin in the Libretium,” Xyon added grimly. “One vial could wipe out a city.” Fugitives of Xdron “Wait, wait, wait,” G’bosd said, waving a hand as if the pirate captain could see him. “You’re saying these crates are full of weapons-grade poison?!” Trig glared at him. “Great job, Captain . Next time, maybe check what we’re hauling before we risk our lives for it!” “We’ve been set up!” Ryaa growled. “No kidding!” S’jan chimed in from the intercom. “Can I vote we jettison the crates and run?” “Not an option,” G’bosd said. “We’d never make it out alive. Besides, we don’t negotiate with pirates.” “Since when?” Trig snapped. “Since right now!” The Lt3 plunged into the asteroid belt, the pirates hot on their trail. G’bosd maneuvered expertly, skim- ming dangerously close to massive rocks while Trig and Xyon fired back at their pursuers. “Ryaa, you up for some hull damage?” G’bosd asked. “I’m always up for damage,” she replied, her rocky exterior shifting. Thanos Kalamidas “Good. Strap in. We’re going very close.” He angled the ship sharply toward the largest pirate vessel. At the last second, he pulled away, but Ryaa lunged forward, hurling a jagged asteroid fragment directly at their engine. The impact sent the pirate ship spiraling, its thrusters sputtering. “One down!” Trig shouted. “Two to go,” G’bosd muttered. The second pirate ship surged forward, firing re- lentlessly. Plasma bolts slammed into the Lt3 , send- ing a console sparking wildly. “That’s it!” S’jan yelled from engineering. “I’m offi- cially out of duct tape!” “We’re running out of ship here!” Trig shouted. “Then we fight dirty,” G’bosd said, his pointy ears twitching. “Xyon, Xia—ready to board?” The Xdrons grinned. “Thought you’d never ask.” With S’jan’s help, the Lt3 performed a risky dock- ing maneuver, latching onto the pirate ship’s side. Xyon and Xia stormed aboard, their four arms a blur as they fought their way through the surprised crew.