On a distant forest world stands a young woman between giant trees so massive they can fool you into thinking they were skyscrapers in a mega-metropolis. Her ice blue hair, lustrous and wavy illuminates her face, a beautiful face with piercing blue eyes to match. A giant white wolf sits next to her, a twelve foot high species found only on the ice world of Vantora, one that can only be tamed by a child of that world or a child of the stars. The young woman was not a child of Vantoran, nor could she be a Star Child as they are not known to exist, so how could she tame the large Vantoran wolf. She began screaming "Vantoran!" getting louder and stronger with each breath, "Vantoran! Vantoran! VANTORAN!"
Clyko woke startled, gasped for air and looked around to regain his bearings. He found comfort in the fact that he was on his supply ship and let out a sigh of relief. Again he thought. This recurring dream had been happening on and off for the past week, and the same questions kept running through his head. Who is she? She wasn't Vantoran how was she able to stand that close to a Vantoran wolf? Is she a Star Child? Can't be, they don't exist.
The Vantoran was on a supply run, a normal, boring supply run. Travelling alone through the cold depths of space on the outer limits of the Sovereign Alliance, where there's no one around for light years. Two days from Vantora to the closest trading outpost Bogar, then two days back. You wouldn't want to stay any longer than you need to on one of those outposts. Violent, decrepit and full of hawkers yelling what they got for you is better than the next guy's. At more than two centuries old, Bogar is the biggest and more popular marketplace on the outer limits of the governed worlds, a chaotic paradise for some, a necessity for others, Cyklo was the latter. As he drew closer, the Vantoran warrior finally saw the city sized ring floating alone in a sea of stars, other starcraft had already docked on the outer edge of the outpost either ready to buy, sell or trade. This - of the twenty five outposts scattered around the known universe built for necessity - was the closest to his homeworld.
Why is one of Vantora's best warriors doing a supply run? Because he was well known, respected and feared in most of the Sovereign Alliance worlds, no one would sell him short.
Cyklo was a solid 6ft9, 142kgs without his armour on. A long distance flight called for a more homely attire, he was far more comfortable in loose pants and a t-shirt. He wasn't fat but he had solid frame, with a lot of muscle mass from years of protein and high gravity, a trait of growing up on the harsh ice world, his home, Vantora. He had a thick brown beard and a shaved head with circuitry tattoos running from the top of his head and down to his neck. You wouldn't want to be on his bad side in a dark outpost alley. Cyklo, although impressive in stature and physique, looked tiny beside his best friend and supply run companion, the great giant white wolf Shadow.
The 12ft high Vantoran wolf was asleep behind Cyklo's chair looking as comfortable as the warrior himself who had his feet up on the control desk looking out of his panoramic viewer which ran around the whole bridge of the ship to give you an open stunning view ahead. The ship was about half the size of an Earth ocean liner, it was big but designed to be handled by a very small crew or a solo operator. The beautiful modern age of 24th century tech.
The ship docked at Bogar with an unexpected clang and a jolt causing Cyklo's feet to fall down from the comfortable position. "This outpost needs a serious overhaul." He informed his companion who woke up startled.
A male voice came through the ship's intercom. "Buying, selling or trading?" The man sounded overworked.
"Prepaid collection." Cyklo answered.
"Yeah righto, you got a confirmation number there?"
"I'm sending it through." Cyklo knew the procedure, he already had the file open on his on-board control desk. He slid it up the screen and it chimed indicating it had been sent.
"There it is. Give me a sec." The line fell silent.
Cyklo knew from his previous supply runs that the dock master was looking for his order. It wouldn't take that long. He looked over to Shadow and scratched the top of the white giants head.
"Not ready yet, sir." The voice was different this time. Years of living in the harsh ice world of Vantora, whether it be a battle against another clan, or simply trading at an outpost, Cyklo had developed a keen intuition for deception.
"What happened to the other guy?" To most, this wouldn't be a big deal. People wouldn't even bother asking. They just want to get their prepaid supplies and get back to their home world. But the warrior had seen too much in his life to know something was amiss.
"Um, oh he's at lunch now."
Cyklo decided to play along. "That's sounds good. How long is my supplies gonna be?"
"Shouldn't be more than a couple of hours. If you did want to grab a bite we'll have your order loaded into your ship." the voice on the line responded.
Cyklo realised the speech pattern. Solar Navy perhaps. He'd had a strange feeling ever since he left Vantora two days ago, not to mention the dreams of the blue haired mistress, something was coming for him. "I guess I could go for a drink." He said to Shadow.
***
"Whoa, is that?....." A man at the bar asked.
"Nah, oh wait…..maybe." the man's drinking buddy responded.
Both men were staring at Cyklo the giant Vantoran warrior as he sat himself at the opposite end of the long metal bar top. There was a loud crack from the chair that made him jump up and nonchalantly move it to the side, he rested his huge body on the bar top instead. He looked around the near empty public drinking area on the trading outpost and caught glances with the two men at the other end. They quickly looked away and continued talking amongst themselves.
"I'm telling you, he's a Vantoran. Look at his sheer size, I mean he nearly broke the steel bar stool!" One of them said.
The other man turned inconspicuously in Cyklo's direction. "Maybe."
His friend punched him in the arm. "Maybe? You wanna go and ask him?"
The other man shook his head. "No way. I'm too drunk I'll say something stupid and if he is Vantoran he'll feed me to his wolf!"
Cyklo looked down the long metal bar top at the two men to see what the commotion was about. The men fell silent and quietly sipped their drinks.
"Oh shit, that's Cyklo. I knew he looked familiar."
His friend was puzzled. "Who?"
"He is, well was, one of the Sons of Vantora. The guys a legendary warrior." The man said.
"Oh right." His friend nodded. "Who?"
The man rolled his eyes. "Ahh, you don't know much about our New History do you, you drunk bastard."
"History is history, I just wanna make money so I can drink. Haha!" He gulped down half a glass of his delicious Scotch.
The bartender walked over to them. "Gentlemen, what do you think? Another or something else?" He was old with slicked back grey hair and a black long sleeve silk shirt in immaculate condition. His bar was the cleanest place on this rundown outpost.
"I'll take another of this." One of the men said. "You must know about the Sons of Vantora bar keep?"
"Indeed I do. Your friend down the end was one of them." The bar keep motion towards Cyklo.
"Ahh pay up!" The man's friend was excited.
"We didn't make a bet, you drunk bastard." The man shook his head and looked to the bar keep. "Well you must have heard loads of stories about the Son's over the years."
"Oh I have gentlemen. Cyklo over there was one of the twelve Sons of Vantora who stopped the Eutranessa's world eating ship the Sundrinker, saving Earth and the twelve Sovereign Alliance planets from being consumed." The bartender told the story with such vigor, that he was excited to recount the heroic story. "The Sons and their Vantoran wolves snuck aboard the monolithic ship and overpowered the Eutranessa forces."
One of the men jumped in to entertain his drunk friend even more who was sitting there wide eyed and listening with astonishment. "They killed them all and the Vantoran wolves ate them!"
"Your flair for the dramatic amuses me." The bartender poured out another round including one for himself. "They let the giant wolves loose aboard the Sundrinker on a destructive adventure throughout the great ship. Destroying the advanced extraterrestrial beings with brute force. The Eutranessa were much smarter in brain power but alas, not some much in-" the bartender paused to think. "What's that old Earth saying?"
A huge beefy arm crashed down onto the bar top from over the two men's shoulders holding an empty ale bottle.
"More brains than Braun." Cyklo jumped in with his deep booming voice.
Startled, both men sitting at the bar jumped. "Jesus! You scared the shit outta me!" One man said.
The other man wiped his drink off his pants, he was too petrified to say anything.
Meanwhile the bartender was laughing his head off. " That was great Cyklo! Here." He reached down behind the bartop and pulled out another bottle of ale. "This one's on the house."
Cyklo grunted with thanks, but his attention was quickly drawn towards a holoscreen high up on the wall behind the bartender. Announcement music began to play, a quick few bursts of heavy polysynth cascading notes that conjured anger and almost overwhelming rage in Cyklo. It was time for a Factionation battle.
The face of a man appeared on the holoscreen. A handsome man with a thick black mustache, slicked back hair and an ear to ear smile. "Well ladies and gentlemen it looks like we are moments away from a battle." The announcer named Dr Mars was grinning with excitement. On the holoscreen live footage appeared of a sixteenth century pirate ship gliding through the ocean at high speed approaching a huge skycraft both vessels on water and sky had their blasters drawn ready to attack each other in a game of survival.
Cyklo grunted again this time in disgust. "That's my cue to leave." He sculled his ale and walked away.
The men at the bar looked at each other. One man asked the bartender "What's his problem. Doesn't he like sport?"
The bartender leant over the bar to speak closer to the men. "That's not a sport gentlemen, that's barbaric garbage. You do realise ninety percent of the factions in Factionation are captured against their will. The other five percent are death row prisoners, the remaining five are thrillseekers who pay to be in there. It's madness in my eyes."
One of the men looked toward the giant Vantoran walking away. "Oh he'd be great on Factionation! One of the Son's of Vantora and his twelve foot wolf! Imagine the brutal battles we'd see!"
"Well he'd never go in there willingly." The bartender chimed in. "Cyklo's brother was captured and put in that barbaric tournament, where he was killed for quote unquote sport. If they did ever capture him, we'd be in for one hell of a show gentlemen."
***
Standing at the edge of a wall in the darkness Cyklo poked his head out to see a team of six men in black and red armour leaving his ship, blasters in their leg holsters. Their slicked back hair and military precision were all he needed to see to confirm his suspicions. Solar Navy, but oddly, they had the wrong coloured armour.
After a few moments the men disappeared into the vast loading area of the outpost. Cyklo ran quietly back onto his ship through the open loading bay door and into the huge storage area that even made the warrior look tiny. Pallets full of stock, metal refrigeration units and everything else on his supply list. "Enough of this." He tapped the touchscreen on the wall nearby closing the bay doors, ran all the way up into the bridge of his ship and flopped down into his chair. He looked over a Shadow, sitting and panting. "You didn't notice the men on our ship?" Shadow tilted his head. "Let's get out of here Shadow."
***
Deep into their journey home, Bogar now but a distant star behind them, the travellers were relaxed and settling in to the home run. Cyklo in his drivers seat, feet up on the control desk gazing out into the sea of stars. Shadow, curled up on the floor behind him. The white wolf woke startled and growled.
Cyklo could sense something as well. He turned to his companion and patted his head. "Easy." The supply vessel began to shudder when suddenly a huge star craft flew over head dwarfing the Vantoran ship.
The centre of the giant above opened up and slowly lowered down towards the supply ship. Shadow growled again.
"Can't out run them. It's a class 24. Looks like old Solar Navy." His voice was deep but calm. Cyklo always spoke to his best friend more than any human. It took a lot to make the legendary warrior nervous, being kidnapped by some renegades that obviously stole and old military ship was no need for concern. "See that up there." He pointed to the Solar Navy insignia on the side of the ship above, a faded blue circle with a hexagon twelve point star in the centre. It had been partially scratched off and replaced with roughly painted red wolf head with RS next to it. Cyklo didn't recognize the call sign.
"Let's see how this plays out."
Shadow grunted in acknowledgment. Cyklo turned back to the front of his ship, put his feet back up on the control desk and put hands on his head to relax and wait for the ship to be boarded.
Cyklo's ship shook as it finally docked inside in old Solar Navy vessel. He used his foot to open the loading bay doors at the rear of the supply ship, he didn't want to leave his seat until necessary. A display screen popped up on the windshield of the Vantoran ship. He saw six men in red and black armour with blasters, they were confused at first as to why the door opened, they were expecting a fight. The men began running in through the loading bay looking around for anyone inside, blasters up and locked into their shoulders ready for action. Finally they reached the bridge of the ship and saw the great warrior and his giant companion ready and waiting to be taken in. Cyklo turned around slowly still seated in his chair with his hands on his head. "Was the wrong day for sweatpants." He stood up from his chair. The shear size of Cyklo and Shadow caused the men to take a step back.
The men gripped their blasters even tighter. So tight Cyklo could hear the sound of the men's gloves squish. The men where all clean shaven with slicked back black hair. They actually look like Solar Navy he thought still unable to work out who or what the hell was going on.
A man in an expensive looking black business suit walked out from behind the six men, hands behind his back walking with purpose. They parted ways for him. "This is the great Vantoran warrior". It was more of a statement than a question, to show Cyklo he knew who he was.
The sharply dressed middle-aged man looked Cyklo up and down.
"You are the perfect brute. You'll be a champion for the people. I had other preferences but the chairman insisted." He turned and walked away.
Cyklo's eyes began to get heavy. He took two steps forward, fell to his knees, he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer. He heard a thump from next to him, Shadow was down asleep. Cyklo felt so tired. Eventually he completely fell to the ground. He was out cold.