The Beast of the Stars
Author: F.J. Wilder
last update2026-01-23 21:27:56

The Central Plaza was no longer a parking lot for shuttles. It was a crater.

Smoke rose from the center of the square, mixing with the heavy rain. The impact had shattered the pavement, sending cars flying into the lobbies of nearby buildings.

Razor, who led the Neon Skulls, took his position behind a barricade formed by overturned tables. His cybernetic arm produced an anxious buzzing sound. His gang members, who numbered fifty, stood next to him while they aimed their rifles at the smoke.

The
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  • The Ultimate Variable

    The Domain of the Rider. The Obsidian Arena.Time: Irrelevant.There was no sound of a clash of the weapons. It caused a jolt of pure and contradictory truth.Ethan had thrown himself into his right arm with all the weight remaining. The ruby-red spike of the Dissonance Engine scraped his baton of polar ice along the Pale Rider. Jolts of opposing physical laws rained down on the black obsidian glass which lay beneath their feet. At the point where the red sparks fell the glass melted into tumultuous liquid. Where the starlight came, the floor had only to stop existing, and left areas of perennial nothingness.The Pale Rider did not strain. His porcelain mask stood as motionless as an expression of desperate, sweat-covered face of crippled hybrid in front of it.One stone against a tidal wave, you come, Pale Rider, said. His voice was right into the skull of Ethan, chilled and absolute.The Rider flicked his midnight wrist, and broke the weapon lock. The baton of the starlight fell dow

  • The Graveyard of Minds

    The Domain of the Rider. The Event Horizon.Time: Irrelevant.The Void-Skiff did not crash down. It was ejected violently out of the dark matter singularity and struck a surface, which was like the sound of breaking glass.The blow cut the port side engine off the hull. The vessel went skidding out of control, and, on a surface of fictionless space, crashed into a great mass of jagged barrier. The heavy containment shutters appeared and burst out. Straight down into the cargo hold glassed down into utter darkness, excepting the wrath-filled crimson light of the Dissonance Engine, and the dim, fainting light in the chest of Ethan.Ethan was dying through the pilot seat. He struck the ground with a crash and his right shoulder bore the impact. He choked and tasted the acrid smoke of electrical fires.Report, Ethan ordered, and forced himself to a knee. He was pressing against the shaft of the halberd, which was black neutronium.Lord Gear was heard murmuring through one of the fractured

  • The Edge of Silence

    Unknown Space. The Void-Skiff.Time: 60 Hours Post-Jump.The Void-Skiff was floating down through the dark, and the poisonous smog of the Scrapyard was long since forgotten. The temperature inside the cargo hold was barely above freezing. The ship was dying.Lord Gear had also sent all unnecessary power to the Singularity Drive and life support. The lights within the house were set so that they were in a low, economy amber tone. The atmospheric re-cyclers rattled on with a painful metallic rattle. The emergency shutters that closed the doors at the violated cargo bay creaked each time the ship changed its pitch.Elena was sitting in the cold steel deck with her hands in the open thorax of a cybernetic chest of Jarek. She was laboring in the blaze of a portable working lamp. She cut off burnt wires and entered fused logic boards, her fingers running with the desperate accuracy.Jarek was lying on his back with his huge optical sensor burning with a low, grey glow. He lacked his customa

  • The Weight of Chaos

    The Scrapyard. The Void-Skiff Cargo Hold.Time: 51 Hours Post-Jump.The cargo-hold was full of the odor of smoldering metal and ozone.Jarek was completely lying on the deck. The colossal cybernetic gladiator was not breathing. The optical sensor in his skull was still black, dead and hollow.Ethan fell on his knees next to his friend. He was pushing his single human hand against the thick superheated armour plate of the chest of Jarek. There was no vibration. No internal power plant was humming along.Gear, I said, Ethan, I said, Gear, I said, accused of being a joke. "Status report. Now."The Lord Gear said it was cardiac arrest, over the intercom. The anarchical burst of your plasma core overstrained his main biological processes. His artificial neural network has switched on an emergency stasis lock, but his natural heart has ceased to beat.Elena pushed past Ethan. She threw back the sniper rifle, went down on her knees tearing the emergency medical kit out of the wall bulkhead.

  • The Spark of Chaos

    The Scrapyard. Neutral Territory.Time: 50 Hours Post-Jump.Korvath was at the edge of the Fighting Pits, and his solid black eyes were looking up at the smoking rubble of his champion. The vultures of the crowd remained absolutely silent. They stared at the dead Scrap-Beast and the half-crippled human being in the oil-streaked dirt with one arm and no other.The Scrapyard pays its own debts, Korvath said, and his guttural voice boomed through the arena. "Give the meat his forge. And put the neutronium into his vehicle.Ethan was not here to make merry. He swung about and climbed the rusty iron staircase, now falling on each breath. The Blue Plasma Core flicked, and was a dying spark, which might soon vanish altogether.Elena was waiting at the top. She threw his heavy canvas jacket on his shoulders, taking care not to come near the burnt stump of his left arm.You are careless," Elena reproved him, but her hands were trembling with gratitude. You have nothing to do, Ethan, to prove.

  • The Scrapyard King

    The Scrapyard. Neutral Territory.Time: 48 Hours Post-Jump.The Void-Skiff was floundering through the heavy rusty smog of the Scrapyard.It was not a natural planet. It was a man-made megastructure, a disorganized ball of amalgamated metallic material, defunct spaceships, and abandoned technology of the Harvesters that had been discarded size of a small moon. Localized and erratic gravity here was produced by hundreds of incompatible artificial cores buried in deep parts of the trash.Lord Gear steered the damaged ship in the direction of the coordinates which were used by the Exile transponder.It is breathing short periods but the atmosphere is toxic, Gear announced over the intercom. "I advise caution. It is mathematically unsound in terms of the structural integrity of this whole sector.Ethan stood in the cargo hold. He had a heavy canvas jacket, which he had scavenged out of the emergency stores of the Skiff. The arm on the left was bare, and pinned on his shoulder. He was tota

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