The Black Guard

Thjorska's boots clicked on cold steel as he made his way to the docking bay. Beside him thudded Pitrak, the robotic pilot who served on the 'Imperial Honour' with him.
Thjorska's military boots were black, and so were the rest of his clothes, with two green bands and three gold stars on the right arm to show his status as a Captain Pilot.
They were making their way to the shuttlecraft that would take them to their ship, since their four-month leave had ended. The boarding gate was an airlock leading to the shuttle, with a robot behind a desk, ready to check their passports.
Already queuing at the desk were two female Jikaala; small, insect-like aliens about the size of a Norn. They bowed slightly, and Pitrak and Thjorska bowed back.
"You are on this shuttlecraft, yes?" asked one.
"That is correct." Pitrak rumbled in his robotic matter-of-fact tone. "We are Beserker pilots, although I am qualified to fly a shuttlecraft as well."
"I see. We are also boarding with very dangerous cargo."
"Atomic, biological or chemical?" Thjorska inquired.
"I suppose you would say biological. We are transporting a male of our species."
Both pilots nodded politely. The male Jikaala was bigger than the female, even bigger than the gargantuan Pitrak. It was vicious and brutal, soothed only by mating pheromone emitted by the female. It was little more than a savage animal, when compared to the sensible and intelligent females.
As the Jikaala boarded, another Jotun came up to the desk. He grinned at Thjorska and saluted. He had three blue bands on his arm, denoting he was a Beserker technician.
"Ready for another two years of service, Thjorska? Battling the Ljynii and the Fiends, kicking some robotic Borg Norn butt? No offence, Pitrak, old buddy."
"None taken, Bjors," rumbled Pitrak, shrugging his main four shoulders. "Though I think you should contain you glee to face hostile and deadly enemies until we reach the 'Imperial Honour.'"
"Good point, my metallic friend. But my horns are just itching to impale something, y'see?"
Pitrak ran a hand over his smooth, metallic head and grinned.
"Not exactly. Besides, you do not go into direct combat. Your job is to fix the Beserkers we bust up."
Bjors grinned even wider and tapped the small case he was holding.
"Not anymore, Pitrak! I got promoted a couple of days ago, and I'm now a Lieutenant Pilot-Mechanic!"
"Well done, Bjors!" Thjorska said.
"They had to promote me, really. After Shandaa, we had a time collecting those wrecked hulks from the planet's surface. It'd be easier to have mechanics on the ground," Bjors said, letting out a heavy sigh.
"Don't look at me like that, Bjors. Nobody knew that the Ljynii had a base at Shandaa," Thjorska said, remembering that dreadful battle as well. The Ljynii were the deadliest enemies of the Jotun, far beyond them in power and strength. Whenever the Ljynii attempted invasion, their massive ships were tracked down as quickly as possible, as whenever they found an inhabited planet they destroyed it without mercy, burning away everything and leaving nothing but a dead, lifeless rock. But two and a half years ago, the Battle of Shandaa surprised every Jotun in the galaxy. A Ljynii ship had somehow arrived in the galaxy without being detected, and had embedded itself inside Shandaa, an uninhabited planet just outside the Jotun Empire. When the Jotun colonists arrived at Shandaa, only one survived long enough to send a distress call.
The 'Imperial Honour' had been the nearest warship, and the raging battle took three days of non-stop fighting as hundreds of other warships arrived to eradicate the Ljynii. By the end, all that was left of the Ljynii was their abandoned ship, but the Jotun took heavy casualties as well. Every single Beserker battlesuit was ruined, no good for anything other than a titanic paperweight, and many of the pilots had died that day as well.

Thjorska handed his military ID to the desk robot and Pitrak and Bjors did the same. The robot scanned them briefly and the door opened. It grinned a robotic grin to Pitrak, who grinned back.
The shuttle was a lot more spacious and comfortable than the first ever shuttle had been, after millennia of adapting alien technology. There were around one hundred passenger on the shuttlecraft, as well as the huge cargo bay in the rear containing, amongst other things, the Jikaala male.
The three pilots sat in a small section of seating, patiently waiting for the ship to take off for the brief two-hour trip to the docked warship. In the section behind them, a group of Khaleorns talked in hushed voices.
There was a brief, yet significant, increase in gravity, then the ship was floating through space. The metal covers on the windows slid back, and a few of the passengers with nothing better to do looked out. Pitrak lay back and stretched, ten pairs of different sized arms extending outward. Bjors yawned and stretched as well.
"You're making me feel sleepy now," he said accusingly. Thjorska held up his credit card at the dispenser and ordered two cups of coffee. The lights flashed for a few seconds, and then the panel slid back, showing two huge mugs of steaming coffee.
As Thjorska handed a mug to Bjors, the pilot's voice came clearly out of the speakers.
"Passengers, the routine flight to the 'Imperial Honour' will take only take a few hours. Please relax. The in-flight entertainment will commence shortly."
Thjorska called up the screen in their section, which flickered into life above the holo-projector.
"Seen it," said Bjors flatly. Thjorska and Pitrak nodded. "Anything on the other channels?"
"Afraid not, my metallic friend," said Bjors after a minute of channel-hopping. "There's a bunch of unidentifiable blobs singing on channel two, animated rubbish from some backwater planet on three, and the regular junk on the rest."
"What are the blobs singing?"
"Heavy metal. Last I saw they were digesting their guitars."
"Animated stuff?"
"Something from Bzatt about little cute creatures which have slap fights, or something. Badly dubbed in Jotun."
"Well, I'm going to sleep," muttered Pitrak. "Wake me up when we get there."
With that, he folded his arms and powered down. Bjors snorted and reclined back his seat.
"Lucky mech. It's going to take me ages to drop off..." he muttered, falling asleep the next second. Thjorska chuckled and lay back as well, shuffling about, trying to get comfortable.
He was jerked awake by a burst of gunfire. Pitrak powered up instantly in full security mode, all guns and forceshields.
"Unauthorised non-Jotun gunfire detected," he intoned, kicking the doors down. "Preparing to assess battle situation and kick some serious butt."

The Khaleorns were standing in the corridor, brandishing large guns and wearing loose-fitting impact armour. Pitrak aimed a large plasma cannon at them, but Thjorska grabbed his arm.
"Fire anything in here and we're voided. Let me handle this."
He approached them with his hands open, smiling. By now all the other passenger were cautiously looking from their cabins.
"We represent the oppressed peoples of the Empire!" yelled one Khaleorn, pointing his gun at Thjorska, who stopped still. "We are holding you all, including the son of the Emperor, as hostages until our demands are met!"
Thjorska stared at the skinny horned reptile, noted the intently serious look on his face, and then uncontrollably burst out laughing.

Stories

Chapter 2