Ashia: The Queen and The Outcast: Star Runners Universe

By L.E. Thomas

Retribution has arrived.
 

The past has caught up with Ashia. 
 

And it wants revenge. 
 

Shanda Vanaad tries to hold together a population on the brink, urging peace and order while preparing for the worst as the alien craft lands on the desert flats. And then they are contacted by the vessel's occupants hailing from a faction that has been preparing for centuries to avenge the past. 

Leading at the head of a ravaging horde of mutated humans, Lord Adalric Demsha seeks conquest and will accept nothing less than a complete surrender of Ashia. When the leaders of Ashia refuse, the world descends into a war unlike anything in history. 

Will Ashia band together to resist the invading force? Will otherworldly technology be enough to save the ancient city of Ashia? 

Ashia: The Queen and the Outcast is the second novel taking place in a dark world within the Star Runners Universe's unfolding events. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Shadow Max Publishing
• Release date: Nov 26, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393949992

L.E. Thomas

L.E. Thomas lives in the Appalchian Mountains in the southern United States with his wife and rescued dog. He is currently working on his next novel. 

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

MANY YEARS AGO

L ord Demsha, Dareen Volstock called, interrupting the breaking process, another vessel has appeared on the plains.

Sweat dripping from his brow, Roldan Demsha turned from his prisoner's battered body in the depths of the starship Cartada. Another vessel? How?

Volstock hesitated. "It just ... materialized."

Grumbling, Demsha handed the psychic amplifier to his aide and wiped his hands free from the alien's filth. Prep the first prisoner for the implants, he said, marching from the conversion chamber, his ebony cape with jade trim flowing behind him. We'll start with the surgery as soon as possible. I want to see how their bodies handle the amplifiers. They'll make good bruta scouts in due time.

Volstock and the conversion specialists bowed as they left.

These aliens had been unusually susceptible to the breaking process, unlike the Fakura Clan offspring they regularly converted on Viljatu. Although his scientists confirmed the newcomers discovered in the crashed ship were, in fact, human, Roldan had received confirmation from his seeing wife, Pelagia.

Other humans are traveling amongst the stars.

Roldan smiled as he strolled through the bright, reflective corridors. He'd never doubted the stories handed down by his father. Tales recounted the mythical event when their ancestors’ vessels had banished them to this barren world while they went to live in paradise.

Sure, there were times in his youth he wondered if his parents were grooming him to lead a conquest of a fictitious world when he'd rather be chasing the daughters of wealthy Vika Clan members. But the recent discovery of humans who traveled through the stars left him no reason to doubt the Ashia and Khanga had landed on a more welcoming world than Viljatu.

Roldan had promptly ordered the captured men to undergo the breaking, prepping them to join his bruta horde. Soon, he hoped his engineers would complete their renovations of the old Cartada engines, and they would be able to set sail for the Ashia's last-known location in the cosmos to claim their vengeance.

And now, more foreigners had arrived.

Pelagia stood before the bridge portal when he arrived, her slender frame appearing taller next to the stunted forms of her servants lurking in the shadows.

The alien has left his ship and is strolling across the Darvon Plains as if he didn't have a care, his wife said without turning. He's here for the others, and he's willing to pay for them. I can feel it.

Roldan halted next to Pelagia and peered down at the new vessel on the plains’ red dirt. The blocky craft seemed broad enough to carry a squad of soldiers, maybe more. He focused on the individual marching through the powdery soil.

Why does he come alone? Roldan asked, watching as the lone figure clothed in a blue suit and with a helmet masking his face made his way across the plains. Tell me what you see.

Pelagia closed her eyes. He wants to negotiate.

Roldan snorted. He’s in no position to negotiate anything.

Don't be too quick to say such things, my love, Pelagia said. "There's something ... unusual about this man. He's strong and willful. I fear he represents a people with terrible power."

Frowning, Roldan sighed. I see. Anything else?

Pelagia turned to face him, her eyes distant and lost in thought. He waited, understanding after all these years the benefit of a Seers’ Council.

They can help us, she said after a pause. I don't know how, but I feel they have the means to assist us with our most significant challenge.

Roldan's brow furrowed. The engines?

Pelagia's lips arched into a tight smile as she nodded.

Reaching out and clasping her shoulder, Roldan said, I must meet with this man.

That you should, she said. Would you like Adalric to join you?

His stomach tightened.

My son is not ready, he thought. In the time since reaching his transition year, Adalric had shown little improvement in his studies. Roldan feared his heir to be a dreamer, not a leader. In fact, he wondered—

Don't think that, Pelagia said, invading his thoughts. Give him time.

Roldan feigned a smile. I'll try, he said with a nod. Wish me luck.

Spinning on his heel, Roldan marched off the bridge, his enormous bruta guards in obsidian armor falling in behind him.

I shall meet this foreigner in the starboard airlock, Roldan ordered. Have the systems prepared and allow the visitor access. I shall be there shortly.

As he strolled through the Cartada's corridors, Roldan's mind raced with the possibilities.

If Pelagia was right—and she usually was—this man walking toward the Cartada could have the ability to expedite their launch. Long had he worried he would be nothing more than another custodian preparing his people for the eventual departure from Viljatu. Now, he might be the one to set foot on the Ashia and finally bring about the reckoning.

An emerald aura washed the corridor ahead, signifying the atmosphere normalized within the airlock. Two officers, psychic magnifiers hanging at their belts, bowed at his approach.

Hail, Lord Demsha, barked the senior officer with the touch of gray on his temples. The visitor has stepped into the airlock and is awaiting your—

Open the hatch.

The officer blinked. Would you like him to pass through decontamination first?

He shook his head. I want to see him now. If anything goes wrong, kill him.

Yes, My Lord.

With a rumble, the airlock hissed, and the hatch parted.

The man, tall and lean, stood in the airlock. The strange dark blue suit he wore hugged his skin as if it was a part of him. He had a black satchel draped over his shoulder. Cautious eyes peered through the glass helmet at Roldan, his hand lingering near a device at his belt.

A weapon perhaps?

Roldan left a distance wide enough to avoid a sudden attack.

"Welcome to the Cartada, Roldan said, interlocking his fingers as his two brutas halted a step behind him. I see you have the technology to breathe in a hostile atmosphere and—"

The visitor cocked his head to the side and tapped his helmet with his free hand. Roldan frowned.

Reaching into the satchel, the traveler pulled out a device the size of a brooch pin. He held it in his palm and took a step.

The brutas tensed, raising their axes.

It's all right, Roldan said through his teeth, taking the device. It was very light as he turned it over in his hand and mumbled, An interesting present."

Before Roldan could ask about the gift, the visitor tapped his helmet again and gestured toward his temple.

Ah, Roldan said, bringing the device to his ear.

Begging your pardon, My Lord, the senior officer said, are you sure that's a good idea? We don’t know where this man came from or why he’s here.

Roldan shrugged. I don't believe he has come here to assassinate me with a piece of jewelry.

Before his guards could say more, Roldan placed the apparatus to his ear and held it there.

A voice crackled from the mechanism, followed by another. He looked at the visitor and saw his mouth moving at the same time.

Extraordinary, Roldan breathed.

Can you understand me now?

He recoiled. The visitor's lips did not match the voice, but he could tell this tool in his ear somehow translated the alien language for him.

I understand, Roldan said, speaking as if he’d just woken from a dream. What do you want?

I'm here to negotiate for the release of my comrades, he said, his mouth still not matching the voice hissing from the device. I also want to inquire about obtaining the brain-alteration devices you're utilizing to control your slaves.

Roldan smirked, unsure how the man knew so much about their world. You ask for a great deal, don't you?

My people don’t leave others behind.

I see, Roldan said, rubbing his chin. And how do you know about my technology?

We were monitoring your world when my people crashed, he said, his face hardening. That's all I'm willing to share.

Very well, Roldan said, ready to get to the point. As payment for your peoples’ return and some of our technology, I would require assistance in repairing our engines for star flight.

The visitor hesitated. And where do you plan on going?

"My people were separated generations ago. We were left to die here on this barren world. As you’ve seen, we've survived and adapted. We would like to be ... reunited with our kin."

Taking a step back, the man appeared to speak to himself. Roldan waited.

After a moment, he turned around. In exchange for the technology and our people, I can have my colleagues repair your engines well enough to reach the only other habitable planet in this system. Agreed?

Roldan grinned. Wonderful. Once the repairs are complete, you can have your people and the technology.

The visitor didn't smile. You will cease any harm you are currently doing to my people.

Very well.

Then you have a deal.

Roldan's mind was spinning. He imagined being able to be the Cartada Lord who finally vanquished the Ashia and Khanga. His brutas would crush all opposition.

Wait ...

He thought of the vessel materializing on the plains, imagining the other wondrous technologies these people had to offer.

Perhaps I agreed to a negotiation too quickly.

Could we sweeten this deal by creating a temporary alliance between our peoples? Roldan asked, his mouth watering. I know nothing of you or what benefits we could offer one another.

The man pursed his lips, his blue eyes boring into Roldan.

I was ordered to secure the release of our people, he said, but I can assure you my government would never ally with the likes of you.

Roldan clenched his jaw, fighting back the urge to have this man killed for disrespect.

And why is that?

Because we would never honor a man who uses human beings as currency or one who mutilates and tortures his own people.

Roldan swallowed. I believe you'll come to regret your words.

I doubt it, the man shot back. Shall we get on with our deal? I don't want to be here any longer than necessary.

Sighing, Roldan wished he'd obtained more from these people. But his engines were now being repaired, and he would be leaving Viljatu. He didn't want to risk what had already been gained.

Very well, Roldan said, I'll have my men show your people to the engine room. What is your name?

Lieutenant Nubern.

CHAPTER 2

PRESENT DAY

They watched from the darkness, lurking in long shadows cast by trees blocking moonlight. Wind from the Western Sea rustled the leaves. Branches clicked as a bird called.

Seven men with weathered faces focused on their comrade as he climbed an ancient tree. He paused on a thick branch, the crossbow in his hands aimed toward the Mazomi Cliffs.

The leader held his breath, his fingers vanishing inside a braided beard the color of a rain cloud. His eyes narrowed and squinted, cracks splintering on his cheeks. Pulling the heavy cloak around his face, he waited for his man, Kip Poltroon, to give the signal.

The crossbow released with a thump. Rope unfurled, flying across the grass landing field illuminated by torchlight. The bolt disappeared into the night, the cable cascading between six airships parked in a neat line.

Tucking his face into a black mask, Kip secured the rope to the branch. Thrusting his hands into gloves made from seepa hide, he leaped into the air and slid across the line.

The leader squinted, searching the shadows. Two Mazomi guards sat by a fire at the cavern, four torches flanking their position. Their lone comrade strolled along the ships, a pipe between his lips as he gazed into the stars. Somewhere along those rocks, Kip hunted them.

He found Kip bouncing along the stones, moving with precision. His body slid across the uneven surface like a skilled performer, his legs spinning and twisting.

A moment later, a dagger flew from the darkness. The walking guard fell twitching with a blade stuck behind his ear.

Kip had proven his skill once again.

The other men stared at their leader. He held their gaze, reveling in the complete obedience of his personal guard.

Go! he snapped.

They leaped into the landing field, the dew on the grass dampening their loose fabric as they swept in silence toward the cave's entrance. They hunched over, moving swift as foxes through the dense weeds.

With shots from crossbows, the pair of Mazomi guards tumbled back from their fire. One fell to the ground, a bolt protruding from his eye. The other clutched his neck for a moment, blood spilling through his fingers before a second bolt dropped him.

Come, the leader responded as Kip joined the rest, his voice deep and strong.

The men sprinted into the Cliffs, their feet scuffing polished stone as they moved up the stairs. Moisture covered the rocks. Swords clashed ahead, followed by the sound of bodies hitting the ground.

Gripping his broadsword, the leader moved forward. As he ascended the stairs carved into the rock, he stepped past more bodies clad in black leather armor. They had dropped the legendary battle staffs carried by the Queen's soldiers. Smiling, he bent down and picked up one of the weapons. The staff felt sturdy in his hands, and he remembered the traders from the heavens who long ago brought such wonders to trade.

Paintings covered the walls and ceilings of the chambers he passed, depicting sailing ships flying amongst the heavens in detailed drawings and vivid colors. A dimly lit space lay ahead, the polished floor reflecting the torchlight. Tightening his grip on the weapon, he marched forward. As his eyes adjusted, he saw the vast sea through an opening in the rock, moonlight spilling silver across the surface. Three boats unfurled massive white sails, moving away from the docks. He grimaced. It was inevitable some would escape to inform the world the Mazomi Cliffs had been lost. He did not have the men to prevent it.

No matter, he thought, staring down at the water turning white as it crashed into the rocky shore.

He swallowed. Such a beautiful sight. It would make a grand staging area for his return.

My Lord!

He turned, and saw a servant woman in a black dress with a beaded headdress forced into the room. Gripping her black hair, Kip pushed the woman to her knees.

Are you alone? the leader asked, bringing the staff to bear on her face.

She hacked and spit toward his feet. Bandits!

Sidestepping the glob of spittle, he gazed at the spirited individual. He took a deep breath and listened.

You hear that? he asked. It's beautiful. It's the sound of things being set right.

Thieves! the woman hissed. The Queen will hear of this!

Oh, he said with a chuckle. I certainly hope so.

He glanced at Kip, who offered a shallow bow.

My Lord, the men have taken control of the docks and the chambers within, he said, eagerness seeping into his normally calm voice. The surprise was complete. The Cliffs are ours.

Of course, they are, he said, slipping his arm through the battle staff’s strap.

The servant struggled against Kip's grip.

I want the prisoners restrained in the lower levels, the leader said. "At first light, we begin forced work in the mines. All will work, or they will perish. I want the Argentum tripled by the new moon."

Of course, My Lord, Kip said, gesturing at the woman. And her?

He smiled. I think she will stay with me tonight.

Never! she snapped. I’d rather die!

That could be arranged. What’s your name?

She clamped her mouth shut, her cheeks twitching.

Kip yanked back her hair. Answer the King!

She cried out, Mariena! My name’s Mariena!

Ah, he said, stepping forward. He touched her smooth cheek. You may call me, Sykstus.

She inhaled. It can't be.

I was delayed, he said, but I’m here and you, like the rest of the people at the Cliffs, are now mine.

Mariena shook her head. The Queen will never—

Sykstus backhanded her face. "That imposter will not sit on my throne much longer! And anyone who supported her will pay the ultimate price! She has no idea of the storm brewing for her. He cupped her face in his hands. And you would be wise to recognize true power when it stares you in the face."

Mariena crumpled.

Releasing her, Sykstus took a step back and said, Beautiful room. I imagine the matriarch spent many moons here contemplating how to give her King headaches. He paused. I'm sure Grev joined her in the worthless plotting.

Sykstus took a deep breath, his thoughts turning to his brother. Kip, leave Mariena restrained and go help the others subdue any resistance.

Mariena struggled as Kip pulled her toward a chest in the corner. Sykstus watched him toss a rope over her wrists.

No! she screamed, bringing her wrists up to strike Kip’s face.

Kip took the blow in the nose and staggered back, but it was the distraction Mariena needed.

Sykstus watched her sprint toward the opening, her eyes focused on the sea beyond. He took a step to block her, but she was too fast.

She hurled her body over the rocks and disappeared into the darkness.

Placing his hands on the cold stones, Sykstus watched a splash in the rough waters far below. He saw no movement other than the swirl caused by another wave crashing into the jagged coast.

Kip joined him at the edge, yanking down the mask and wiping blood from his nose. Should I send men to the docks to capture her?

Sykstus shook his head. It's of no concern. The fall might’ve killed her. We have other matters to attend to.

I'm sorry, My Lord, Kip said, gasping. I did not expect her to move so fast.

Sykstus sighed, his eyes still on the rough waters. And I cannot afford to have a man under my command who allows himself to be surprised by a young woman.

Kip glanced at him an instant before Sykstus brought the battle staff to bear on his chest. The weapon flashed, its immense power unleashing sparks across the floor and causing a fire in Kip's torso, releasing the smell of sizzling flesh.

Sykstus grabbed Kip's shoulders and moved him to the edge. Taking one last look at the young man's wide eyes, Sykstus shoved him over the side and never turned to watch the dying man fall.

CHAPTER 3

Shanda stood in the Spire's throne room, her eyes on the cloudless sky. A hint of salt touched her tongue as she focused on the waters stretching to the horizon. Grand merchant galleons mixed with smaller fishing schooners sailing away from the Ashian docks. Some were undoubtedly bound for the Mazomi Cliffs, and fewer would trade with Khangans in the wilds.

A memory of crashing over the waves in a small fishing vessel, her first time on the sea, appeared. It might have been ages ago, but it felt like yesterday.

The memory faded, replaced by growing sadness.

Shanda missed being alone with Atillo.

For a fleeting moment, she imagined a life with him on the coastline, living on nourishment they could haul in from the water. Life with no subjects, no responsibilities. Just the two of them and the sea, from dawn until dusk.

My Queen, Rika Mundt called. You’ve been announced. The people await your words in the Dredun Square.

Shanda's mouth went dry. Taking a deep breath, she looked at the sky.

Even in daylight, the incoming starship appeared like a smaller moon had taken up position in the heavens. Whenever she looked away, she hoped it would have disappeared. Perhaps it had been a terrible nightmare, or maybe whoever was on the star vessel had decided to bypass Ashia and move on.

But it remained like a cursed star, and it was coming closer.

Matters in Ashia had worsened in recent days as more eyes focused on the skies with wonder and worry.

My Queen? Rika asked. Are you all right?

My apologies, Rika. I fear my thoughts have been elsewhere this morning. Forgive me.

There’s nothing to forgive, my Queen.

Turning, Shanda looked at Rika as a gust of wind shot across the throne room. With her bright orange robes and yellow sleeves, Rika might have been a member of the Vika Clan in the Spire’s former days. She had auburn hair much lighter than Shanda's, and skin so white it looked like the polished precious stones men brought from the rolling hills north of the Khanga. Mariena had recommended Rika when she took her leave to visit her family at the Mazomi Cliffs, and the young woman had been a perfect replacement.

Shanda glanced down at her dark gown sparkled with a touch of silver thread. Do I look all right?

Beautiful as the stars, my Queen.

You’re too kind, she said, gesturing to corridor. Please lead the way.

Rika bowed and left.

Casting one more long glance at the bright object in the morning sky, Shanda followed Rika. A stiff wind rocked seepa hides covering the portals. Generally full of advisors and envoys from distant lands, the chamber seemed oddly empty for late morning.

Have they calmed? Shanda asked, moving beside Rika.

She paused. A bit, my Queen. It seems your Guard was able to subdue most of the protestors.

I see.

Growing unrest had expanded to rioting in the marketplace. As Captain of the Queen's Guard, Atillo took charge and quickly subdued the furious mob with promises their Queen would soon speak with them. No one in an angry crowd would dare stand against guards armed with battle staffs.

Two days ago, Atillo had warned of revolts in the Flats, a growing loss of control, and whispers of tribes banding together against the Queen's authority.

Shanda tilted her head back, her spine growing rigid as she moved through the Spire’s lower levels. She needed to focus.

Arriving at the stone arch leading to the platform overlooking the Dredun Square, Rika paused and nodded. Do you need anything, my Queen?

Shanda shook her head and offered a crooked smile. Thank you, Rika.

Of course.

With one grand sweeping motion, the handmaiden pulled back the dyed seepa hide. Daylight beamed through, revealing her most trusted advisors on the balcony.

Taking a step forward from the others, Atillo bowed and offered his arm. His dark beard was trimmed neat, and his hair streaked with strands of gray was pulled back tight.

My Queen, he said in a deep voice, offering the slightest hint of a wink. Your people await you.

Are you okay? she asked, taking his hand.

The people are under control, he said, avoiding her question. I'm no worse for wear, my Queen.

Very good, she said, taking a step into the sunlight on the platform.

Ashian citizens of all ages crammed into the Dredun Square at the Spire’s base. Judging by the variations of clothing, it appeared people from all walks of life and levels of wealth had come to hear what she had to say about the object in the sky.

Atillo left her side as she took a step to the platform’s edge and rested her hands on the railing. Shanda took a deep breath and swept her gaze over the crowd.

People, she said, her voice echoing. It is with great pleasure I address you today.

Remember to pause between each word so that the entire crowd can hear you.

Mariena had been an excellent teacher in those early days as Shanda attempted to invent the role of Queen of Ashia. In recorded history, Shanda found no record of a Queen ever having ruled from the Spire. As a result, the pomp and circumstance of every event had to be carried out and, more importantly, respected.

I know you have concerns about the object beaming from the heavens, she said. Since I became your Queen, I’ve done everything within in my power to guarantee the safety of all citizens living in and around the Spire.

She pointed to the Queen's Guard standing along the sides of the crowd, all with battle staffs across their chests covered in the black armor style of Mazomi culture.

My Guard has enforced peace and justice, she said. "Without them, I would not be able to bring prosperity. And it is these guards who will protect you from whatever is coming from the stars. They have all sworn allegiance to not only me but to you! These brave men and women place their lives on the line to ensure this Spire will continue to stand for all time!"

"Ha!"

Shanda blinked. For a moment, she wasn't sure if the outburst was real. Was it a vision?

The crowd turned toward an individual who stood above the rest, emerging from the people like a weed. The surrounding citizens backed away from the speaker.

Standing on a wooden box, the man wore light brown robes stretching to his feet.