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  The Survivor

  J.C. Harker

  Copyright ©2014 J.C. Harker

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright © 2014 by J.C. Harker

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the copyright owner, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All product names, trademarks, registered trademarks, service marks or registered service marks, mentioned throughout any part of the book belong to their respective owners. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Cover art by BookCoverMasterClass.com Copyright © 2014

  Disclaimer: Any person depicted on the cover is a model and is being used for illustrative purposes only.

  Published by Wing & Fang Press

  https://WingAndFang.com

  Edited by Brandon Davis& Michael Barnett

  The Survivor

  When a colonist shuttle crashes on an uninhabited planet the desperate stowaway, that caused the crash, assumes the identity of the dead navigator to avoid being executed on sight. With a suspicious marshal onto her she needs to find the other crashed Navi capsule before he does. But even if she's lucky enough to beat the marshal to it, will the other navigator protect her stolen identity?

  J.C. Harker

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  Table of Contents

  Table of Contents

  Meet J.C. Harker

  Thank You!

  Further Reading

  With her nose full of the retched, burnt stench and her body scratched, bruised, and aching all over, she didn’t dare open her eyes. Instead, she fought against the headache blurring her memories.

  She anticipated the familiar beat of Slavers’ drums to start any moment. But only the crackling of a fire and humming of wind filled the air. It didn’t smell like burnt human flesh, either.

  The stowaway blinked rapidly as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. A wide open, motionless human eye stared right at her. She almost screamed, but the sight took her breath away and her heart skipped a beat. Blood trickled down the young woman’s cheek from the fresh, and fatal, wound in her temple. The blood dripped down the girl’s chin, pooling around her head and soaking the ground where her long, dark hair was splayed. The girl’s body was mere feet away.

  Something small crawled onto the stowaway’s leg—which was sticking out from a mass of material twisted and wrapped around her like a cocoon. Panicked, she kicked and shook the creature off and then untangled herself from the parachute.

  There was something familiar about the dead woman. The elegant, blue dress resembled a night sky with tiny, studded crystals spread across it like stars. Such garments belong at a Master’s ball, she thought, not the middle of a forest.

  The stowaway coughed a small amount of blood, choked by the lingering smoke. The clouds above shifted and the light of two moons clearly illuminated the wreckage. She gasped as the memories flooded in.

  The escape. The ship. The scouring below deck, stealing leftovers just to survive—it all came back in one headache-inducing stream. She remembered sneaking into the shuttle, crawling through a vent, cutting through cables to get to the capsule chamber, and finally wrapping herself in the capsule’s parachute. It all went well until the bang.

  Another spark lit up and just as quickly fizzled. Torn off branches littered the area. They must have broken my fall. She looked up. Enormous, leafy trees swayed high above.

  “Where have I seen you before?” She stood up with a groan and looked down at the corpse.

  She kicked aside the parachute she had cut off from the capsule—a decision that saved her life but proved fatal to the unfortunate stranger.

  The stowaway limped to the wreckage, which was tipped at an angle against a tree. Exposed circuits buzzed and sparked at the front of the capsule. She focused on the middle section—a coffin like chamber with a broken glass door swaying on a loose hinge. She stood on the tips of her toes to reached inside, her fingertips brushed against something soft, and she pulled back, surprised. Expensive velvet? Here? She examined the inside further, but the only thing she found was a loose-hanging cryo breathing mask. A small display screen on the mask, faintly glowing in the dark, read “Fiana Hemille.”

  Something sparked near the stowaway’s hand and she jumped back, tripping over the corpse. “Sorry Fiana, nothing personal, you understand.” She turned the dead girl onto her back.

  They were both young, of similar age and height. Both skinny, though she presumed for very different reasons. With a trained scavenger’s eye she scanned the body. Anything she could carry and sell in the nearest town might prove handy.

  A wide, silver bracelet glistening in the moonlight caught her attention. The jewelry slid off the woman’s wrist with ease. Definitely silver, she judged, placing it in a pocket before patting down the rest of the body.

  “Rest in peace.”

  She waved her hand in a parting gesture and stepped aside from the wreckage. Surrounded by a thick wall of trees and undergrowth, the stowaway glanced up at the moons and turned to the treetops with a sigh. Without a map, she’d need to climb all the way up.

  She picked the nearest tall tree with thick, low hanging branches. The stowaway grabbed one to test its strength, but pulled her hand right back. Sticky muck covered the bark and her fingers burned.

  “Yuck.” She examined the reddish marks. Was it poisonous?

  With makeshift gloves made from parachute pieces and a knife pulled out from her boot, she began the climb. Every muscle ached in protest and the pain in her ankle slowed her down. But fueled by adrenaline, she eventually reached the top.

  Fear formed a knot in her stomach. The wild jungle spread all the way to the horizon. No lights, not towns or cities, not a single man-made structure in sight. Even beyond the horizon—just darkness. She knew she had boarded a colonist ship, but she didn’t expect them to be pioneers.

  A sudden burst of light in the valley below startled her. A hover-light rose above the tree tops, then another and another. The sound of falling trees echoed in the distance as she witnessed the forming of a clearing.

  Pioneers? The shuttle must have landed there. As she mused, a hover-light separated from the group and headed in her direction.

  She squeezed the branch she was holding tighter. “The fire!” They must have sent a rescue team. She judged the distance and the speed at which the hover-light moved. At best she had two hours before they reached her.

  The stowaway slid down the tree and discarded the make-shift gloves. She didn’t know what the punishment was for crashing the capsule, and she didn’t want to find out. The dead woman’s blue dress shimmered in the light of the growing fire.

  Where had she seen it before? “No!” She covered her mouth, as the memory finally surfaced.

  A photograph in a Master’s house commemorating a Navi visit. A girl in a dress just like this one walked onto a starship deck with her head raised high. The slave was the hero of a story whispered by women locked in Slavers’ dungeons. Special, unique, selected by
the Navi, the girl waved to the slaves ignoring the Slavers and even the Masters. But they overlooked the disrespect; the girl being chosen was an honor for the whole planet.

  Hair stood on the stowaway’s arms and neck and she clenched the bracelet in her pocket. She lifted it up and traced the inside with her fingertips. Her breath quickened, as they passed over an engraving.

  “Property of the Navigator Academy.” She mouthed.

  Bile rose in her throat. She thought she could get away with her original crimes. She could try to disappear, whether she lived in a small town or in the wild. But a dead Navi? They would surely investigate and scan the place, and then find her DNA. Even if it weren’t her fault, just her presence at the crash site… She looked at the slit parachute strings. It was her fault.

  What could she do? The stowaway racked her brain for ideas, for any scraps of knowledge about the mysterious Navi women. They were rare. Rare enough that race, class, religion, and politics were disregarded in the selection process. Considered the pinnacle of the human gene pool, they didn’t mingle with regular people beyond fulfilling their duties as Navigators. She swallowed hard. There was no way she was going to get away with this. Unless…

  The mask! The woman must have still been in cryo. Maybe the colonists didn’t know her. No dead Navi, no investigation. She twirled a lock of dark hair between her fingers comparing it to Fiana’s. “This could work.”

  The gown’s sleeves stretched beyond her wrists, but otherwise the loose fit suited her well. The modest cut of the dress helped disguise the differences in their figures. She put on the white slippers last, they were tight, but almost a fit.

  The stowaway wrapped the body in the parachute and dragged it to the burning wreckage, adding some dry branches for good measure. She hoped the eventual explosion of the cryo tank would cover up her tracks. Leaving the bonfire behind, she ventured into the wild and pressed on until she heard voices nearby.

  “Help.” She dropped to one knee and leaned against a tree. “Help! I’m here!”

  A bright flash temporarily blinded her. The hover-light scanning the area flooded her location with light.

  “Please help me.” She shielded her eyes.

  “Navi?” Someone responded close by. “Are you both alright?”

  Both? Were there two of them? But the wreckage contained just one capsule and there wasn’t enough room for two people inside.

  “No, it's just me.”

  People gathered around and an imposing man reached out to her.

  “Navi...?” Did he not know her name? I might get out of this yet.

  “Fiana, Navi Fiana.” She answered as if it were her name from birth. “I was the only Navi there.”

  He pulled her up and helped her stand.

  “I’m Brynt, the colony marshal. You must be the apprentice then.” He glanced at the tablet in his hand. “I’ve got two Navi listed here, so your friend is still somewhere out there.”

  She could not sleep that night; instead, she tossed and turned under the silk covers. Did the Navi know each other? Brynt called her an apprentice, was the other Navi her teacher? So many questions.

  Several times the stowaway jumped out of bed ready to flee back into the wilderness. But the Navi quarters provided comfort and luxuries she had rarely seen and never before experienced, but no means for escape or survival in the wild.

  At least she had till morning to figure things out. Without a fire to hint at the second capsule’s location, Brynt decided to gather a larger, better equipped search party the next day.

  A knock on the bedroom door woke her.

  “Come in.”

  A young girl slipped inside, her blond plaited hair swaying from side to side in sharp contrast to her dark gray uniform. A colony worker then.

  “Navi Fiana.” the girl bowed. “I’m Maya. I’m here to assist you.”

  Assist me? What am I to do with this girl? Fiana tried to sit up, but the sudden movement flared up the pain in her ankle.

  “Are you alright Navi?” The girl was immediately at her side.

  “Mhm,” Fiana nodded. “Just a bit weary.”

  “Should I get the medic? Brynt said you should rest.”

  “No! Uhm, I mean, no need. It’s just a few scratches.”

  Maya gave Fiana a suspicious look, but did not object.

  “I need to talk to Brynt about joining the search party.”

  “The marshal explicitly said—”

  “Are you not here to assist me?” Fiana raised her voice. “I want to see Brynt even before breakfast.”

  “But Navi Fiana, he—”

  “Who ranks higher here?” Fiana got out of bed, grabbed a clean dress from a hanger and made her way towards the bathroom. “Brynt can talk to me in person if he wants to tell me what to do.”

  It was a gamble, since she wasn’t sure whether she did outrank him.

  “But he’s already left.” Maya blurted out just as the bathroom door closed.

  The stubborn gown refused to slip over her head and her arms got stuck in the sleeves. When Fiana finally stomped out of the bathroom her fists were clenched.

  “He didn’t speak with me first?”

  The girl cowered under Fiana’s gaze and answered in a trembling voice. “No Navi, he wanted you to rest.”

  “Never mind,” Fiana waved her hand. “I can still catch up with them.”

  At least he won’t be able to say no. “Let’s grab some breakfast and you can—”

  “Navi,” the girl interrupted. “It’s lunch time now.”

  Four hours later, Fiana was glad she had demanded a pair of sturdy boots to go with the gun, knife, and other items she needed to get through the jungle. The tracking device in her hand placed Brynt’s group directly ahead. She caught up with them by following the path they had spent time clearing.

  Upon hearing voices in the distance she hid behind the trunk of a tree. Her fingers wrapped tighter around the knife. She saw no point in letting them know she had followed. Best see first if the Navi is alive.

  Fiana peered around the tree and cut through the web of low hanging vines to get a better view of the group in the distance. They gathered around the capsule debating. She caught a few words from the conversation. “Broken… gone… salvage…”

  A twig cracked behind her and a hand touched her arm. For someone like the stowaway, when startled there was only one response. Slavers knew to prod their property with long sticks for that very reason. She turned around and the knife thrust forward hitting soft tissue.

  “I know wh—” the woman’s quiet words turned into a gurgle.

  Fiana pushed the gray haired woman against the nearest trunk, the blade still inside.

  “Who…” The stowaway started, but one glance at the shimmering dress was enough. Who else would be wondering there?

  Fiana covered the woman’s mouth. There was no anger or defiance in the Navi’s eyes, just sadness, maybe even pity. How the hell will I cover this up?

  Lost in thought, she missed the Navi’s hand movement. The wrinkled, trembling fingers closed around Fiana’s bracelet.

  You are now their only hope, a strange voice rung in her head. She looked left and right. The grasp on her wrist tightened.

  Her heart skipped a beat when she realized the trinket had come to life under the woman’s touch. A faint, blue glow seeped through the cracks between the metal segments.

  I know what happened to Fiana. You shall carry her burden now. A click within the bracelet and a sharp pain in her wrist, as if from a needle, followed. The stowaway tried to pull her hand out, but the old woman had a surprisingly strong hold.

  “How are you doing this?” The stowaway hissed quietly, lowering her hand from the woman’s mouth. But only a sigh came in reply.

  There isn’t much time. They need you, but you need them, too. She coughed and blood dripped down her chin. One is not enough.

  With each rough breath life escaped from the old woman.

  “No, no,
no,” Fiana whispered, holding the woman up. “They’re all right there, we can take you back to camp. This was a mistake. I didn’t mean to…”

  I forgive you. The Navi paused. Blood foamed at her mouth. But they would not.

  The old Navi’s bracelet lit up. When it is done, say my name. I was Samare.

  In three quickening breaths the woman was gone.

  “No!” Fiana screamed, letting go of the body. Immediately she covered her mouth.

  But it was too late. The sound of heavy boots hitting the ground neared. A moment later, Brynt burst from behind a shrub. He stopped when their eyes met.

  “What are you doing here, Navi?” His gaze shifted to the body still warm at her feet. Surprise, shock, and horror flashed on his face before returning to the emotionless mask. He grabbed his gun and pointed it at Fiana.

  “Arrest her!”

  Her eyes widened. Was she not untouchable?

  “It was an accident! I…” Both bracelets dimmed fast. Panicked she bent down and grabbed the one on Samare’s wrist. “Samare,” she whispered, but nothing happened.

  “Don’t move!” Brynt adjusted his stance. “I will shoot you.”

  Shivers ran down her spine. She dropped Samare’s bracelet and raised her arms slowly.

  “I…”

  “Save it for the trial, Navi.” Another man walked up and cuffed her. “Start walking.”

  The secluded Navi house made for a luxurious prison while the colonists debated what to do with her. The law was clear—the punishment for killing a Navi was death.

  Three days had passed since Samare’s death, and she was still in the dark. Maya brought food three times a day, but would not answer any questions. Through the window, Fiana saw others, including Brynt, in the distance, but at best they shot fearful glances in her direction.

  On the fourth day, what started as a headache developed into a full-blown migraine. But she wouldn’t let them know stress was getting to her. Instead, she used the time to learn and study. She browsed through the things that belonged to the Navi and read whatever she could find about the law, the Navi, and the colony. She even tried to activate the bracelet but with no luck.