Relic Wars, Book 1: ATTACK ON YHYSHKU

PROLOGUE

SièFrietzta dauntlessly snaked through the halls of the Goũlizterykk, his eyes scanning the nooks and crannies for any possible threats.  At every turn he raised his weapon, which was literally a short metal rod, about four feet long, with a long spike at the end, its sharp point glistening in the little light the ship had to offer. He was cautious because there had been some disturbance within the jail cells, and one of their most dangerous prisoners had escaped from cell-9-5.  His troops were already searching the ship from top to bottom, with orders to find their convict, and if necessary, kill him, for they knew that he was searching for their most prized relic that was on its way to the palace of King VierShart, on the planet of Eulobej.  The relic was almost like an ancient artifact from some time millions, or even billions of years ago.  It had the power and energy to destroy almost anything, and whoever wielded it could be a threat to the entire universe…
Which was why they had to find their escaped convict, and fast!
SièFrietzta stopped walking, his four long, scaly blue legs stiffening as he stopped using them for the moment.
Reaching down, he retrieved from his satchel a small metallic radio.  Pressing a large red button, a click-beep sounded, signaling that he could start talking to his men.
“PeaVobb, ShnoulKaar, VerdèRomn, anything yet?”  he asked, letting go of the button when he finished speaking.
A voice emitted from the radio, sounding far away, yet close up at the same time.  “No, Commander, nothing.  Our location is currently at the bunking deck. PeaVobb and ShnoulKaar are still scanning the fuel cells and weapon stocks, but no luck is coming around.  I’m sorry, Commander.”
SièFrietzta sighed and pressed the button again.  “HAVE YOU EVEN THOUGHT ABOUT CHECKING THE RELIQUARY ROOM!?”  he shouted angrily into the communication device.
Silence ensued for about ten more seconds, and then a scared little voice sounded from the other end, “Uh, well, um, no, Commander, no.  We, uh—”
“I DON’T WANT EXCUSES!  AT LEAST JUST CHECK THE RELIQUARY ROOM!”
“Uh, okay, um, okay Commander.”
A click sounded, signaling that VerdèRomn (for that was the one who had been speaking) had hung up.
SièFrietzta grumbled under his breath, irritated at his Captain for his lack of intelligence.  He would have insulted the very existence of VerdèRomn’s brain, but right now, he wondered how he could insult something that was most likely not even there.
He gripped his spiked weapon, and, taking a few more steps, entered another hallway, one that probably led to a pod garage or something.
He was right; it was a pod garage.  Several large transport-pods were lined up against the wall, charged and ready for usage.  Inside of the pods were a two week’s supply of food, and an infinite water source tank.  It contained two little pumps within that held oxygen and hydrogen atoms.  Whenever the pumps were cranked, the two substances crashed together, forming water molecules.  Lots of those molecules were needed to form a substantial amount of water, so a special space rock had been picked up from the planet Gylha that produced oxygen and hydrogen atoms every two seconds, and never ran out.  (That explained why the planet was basically one big ocean.)
SièFrietzta shook his head to clear all the science and atom stuff and thought about what was at hand: They all had to get that prisoner before he could find the sacred Reliquary Room, steal their most prized power source, and destroy them all.
He shouldered his pike and walked into the next room, cautiously peering around the corner.  He saw that he was in the command center (which was where he could steer the ship, check the engines, etc.), exactly where he had started only an hour before.
He sighed; he must have been going in circles or something…
Suddenly, a guard came streaking up to him from behind, breathing hard.
SièFrietzta turned and glared at him, expecting at least some noise to emit from the soldier’s voice box.
“Comman… (phew!)… Commander SièFrietzta—(hugh!) Commander SièFrietzta,” the trooper started, his breathing starting to calm a little, “Commander SièFrietzta, we have located the prisoner!  He made it just outside of the Reliquary Room, but some of our men were able to get there in time before he could blow the lock off of the door.  Our troopers are currently holding him off, but five of us are dead already!”
SièFrietzta took off running as fast as he could toward the nearest descendance machine, accidently knocking the young soldier off his feet, but he didn’t care; he needed to get to the Reliquary Room as fast as he could!
When he arrived at the contraption, he showed the scanner his eyeball, and when it gave him access inside, he shot downward.
When the doors opened up, the sound of battle reached the two holes in his head that served as his ears.  The combat sounded so intense that he ran twice his normal speed to get to his destination.  His adrenaline was taking total control over him, and he reacted on that simple option that always hatched within your mind: Fight or flee.
SièFrietzta crossed over a catwalk that sat just over the room, and from that height, he could see bellow something that made his two hearts beat even faster.
Down below, a brutal battle was taking place.  A stream of blood was flying in all directions, splattering the walls and floor with blue liquid.  He could see their prisoner with a saber in one hand and an axe in the other.  Both weapons had blue blood oozing down the sides, and more piled upon them as more and more soldiers fell.
From what SièFrietzta could see, about twenty two of his men were lying dead around their target.  They all had likely never even had a chance to try to stay alive; their cuts had gone way too deep.
Only a handful of soldiers were still alive, up, and fighting, but in less than a minute, half of them were cut to pieces.
SièFrietzta couldn’t take it anymore.  With a roar, he leapt off of the catwalk, and landed right in front of his enemy.  His soldiers saw him, and became a little braver, but stepped away from their rival, hoping to rest for a moment.
“Bezzkata, put those weapons down, or you will be in a lot of pain!”  SièFrietzta warned, threateningly stepping a little closer.
Bezzkata didn’t even flinch, much less lower his weapons.  Instead, he sneered, and raised them even higher!
“Try and make me!”  he taunted in a sing-song voice.
SièFrietzta stepped forward even closer.  Even if he had wanted to lash out at the convict he didn’t.  Instead, he calmly said, “Bezzkata, this is your last chance. Surrender your weapons or surrender to my spear!”
“Oh, I guess I’m in for it,” Bezzkata replied with mock-meekness.
“You’re right,” SièFrietzta replied, never taking his gaze away from his enemy’s weapons, now covered with blood from head to hilt and steaming from the heat it contained.
Bezzkata glared at him defiantly and bravely stood his ground.
“Put… the weapons… down,” SièFrietzta said slowly, dangerously.
Instead of obeying, Bezzkata suddenly lunged at him, weapons outstretched, eager for another slaughter.
SièFrietzta raised his pike to the left, blocking the first blow, and then moved it to the right, blocking the second.  Sparks emitted from the weapons, showering them both in hot embers.  Bezzkata bravely stood his ground and swiped at SièFrietzta’s head with his saber.  The blade sparkled in the light of the electric glow-stick poles that stood around the group.  They were for helping to guide workers and guards when they moved around the room, because there wasn’t much natural light, or even many lights hanging from the ceiling.
SièFrietzta raised his pike again, blocking the attack, then booted Bezzkata in the stomach with one of his legs, sending him sprawling across the floor, his weapons crashing away from him into the darkness.
Bezzkata quickly staggered to his feet and pulled out a small knife from his satchel that hung lazily from his waist.  He had obtained it from one of the soldiers he had felled, and now he intended to kill SièFrietzta with it.
SièFrietzta raised his pike, ready for more melee combat.  But instead of running up to his opponent and trying to slice and dice him to pieces, Bezzkata hurled the dagger at his chest!  The blade whistled through the air, sparkling in the light of another glow-stick pole.
SièFrietzta was unable to bring his weapon up in time, and his adversary’s blade sank into his left shoulder, piercing one of his hearts.  He staggered back, going slightly limp, unable to move the entire left side of his body, his spear clattering to the floor.  Some of his soldiers stood back in shock, unable to move, fearful for their Commander’s and their lives.  But two of them sprang in front of their commanding officer, ready to protect him from further offence from their prisoner.
Their movement snapped the others out of their trance, and they set to work, forming a spear wall in front of SièFrietzta.
Bezzkata smirked and picked up a nearby pike that had fallen out of the grasp of one of the dead warriors.  “Looks like I win!”  was his simple declare.
“Not… Not yet!”  SièFrietzta managed to mumble, pain resonating through his body like a monstrous title wave.
“Oh, really?”  Bezzkata taunted, smirking yet again.  “Prove it.”
SièFrietzta glared back at him with the right side of his face.  “I will.”
Bezzkata frowned.  “Well, I’m waiti—”  But he was cut off. SièFrietzta had taken a pike from one of his soldier’s hands, and, with the last of his strength, hurled it at his opponent.  Bezzkata wasn’t even able to blink; the pike pierced his neck, its tip burrowing into his voice box, then his spine, then his skin again, and then came out the other side.  Bezzkata’s eyes grew wide, the pain too much to bare.  Then he fell to the ground, his weapon crashing at his side.
SièFrietzta then sighed, and expired, knowing that he just might have saved the universe from a complete and disastrous calamity.

End of Prologue