by T. R. Harris
Sherri came to his rescue a heartbeat later, having recovered the guard’s fallen gun. She sent a deadly level-one bolt into the chest of the second guard. He staggered back while unleashing a wild bolt of his own, missing everyone. However, the mighty beast didn’t go down, not even from a level-one.
Sherri fired another, this time aiming for the head. This time the shot made a difference. The intense heat and residual electricity fried the brain of the huge being, sending him to the deck, after which Sherri turned the weapon on the first guard.
But he was quick and aware, twisting to put Adam between him and Sherri. She hesitated firing.
“Dammit, do something,” Adam groaned. Air had been squeezed from his lungs causing his words to come out as barely a whisper.
Sherri aimed at the legs of the guard and fired. The beast reacted by kicking out with the other leg, catching Sherri on her shin. She went down.
The burning pain in the alien’s leg was enough for him to loosen his grip on Adam ever so slightly, allowing him to lift his shackled arms so he could press against the guard’s chest, forming a tiny gap. He could breathe a little better, but the relief lasted only a second.
The guard suddenly released him, causing Adam to staggered back, still on his feet—until he caught a powerful right-handed fist to the side of his head.
He went down, finding himself a dazed second later next to a screaming Sherri Valentine. She didn’t appear to be too badly hurt, just mad. With her target now clear, she fired again at the guard, aiming at his head. To everyone’s surprise, the beast dodged the bolt and took a step toward Sherri, kicking the weapon away with a swing of his elephant leg. He followed up with another kick, this one catching Sherri on the shoulder and sending her careening down the corridor.
Adam was on his feet a moment later, and in front of the guard, his still-shackled hands held out in front of him, forming a club as he stepped away from the advancing alien. He kept his distance, taking swipes at the beast as best he could. The thing was about eight feet tall, so it was a chore to reach his chin. Instead, Adam concentrated on the mid-section. He landed a couple of powerful blows to the thick body, which seemed to surprise the alien by their intensity but didn’t slow him down. In response, the guard lashed out with another fist of his own, attached to the end of a four-foot-long arm.
Adam barely avoided the hit, ducking under it and then planting a double-fisted strike to the alien’s kidneys. Of course, Adam had no idea if the damn thing had kidneys, but it did have an impact. Something snapped under the skin, and the creature howled in pain. Adam grinned. It was a start.
The dance continued down the corridor, with the fighting pair passing the dead second guard and an unconscious Sherri Valentine. Adam didn’t have time to inquire as to her condition; there was nothing he could do about it until his most immediate problem was dealt with.
And that’s when someone grabbed him from behind.
Adam could tell this was another species of alien by the thinness of the arms and the weakness of the grip. Even so, it was a complication Adam didn’t need. He lowered a shoulder and bent down on one knee, pulling the second alien over his back, where he toppled to the floor. The much smaller, green-tinted creature was now an obstacle for the rampaging hulk. The guard casually kicked his fellow Cartel soldier to the side, where he slumped down, either dead or unconscious.
Adam was at a loss what to do next until he noticed the bubbling mass of flesh on the leg Sherri shot with the level-1 bolt. The creature was favoring it even as he ignored the pain.
Adam jumped forward, slipping along the smooth floor until he crashed into the leg with one of his own. The collision made an impression. Again, the beast wailed and stepped sideways. Adam continued sweeping the leg, hitting the bloody wound straight on with his shackled wrists, using the metal like brass knuckles. This time the leg gave way, and the alien fell to his knees.
Adam was up a moment later, using momentum to deliver a powerful roundhouse, double-fisted hit to the right side of the guard’s head—now that he could reach it. With Human speed, Adam followed up with two more club-like blows.
The guard was punch drunk by this time, his pea brain rattling around in his skull. His eyes crossed, and Adam could tell he was on the verge of passing out. Adam cranked up for another—and final—hit on the guard.
But he didn’t get the chance.
Sherri elbowed him out of the way, stuck the barrel of an MK-17 bolt launcher into the mouth of the alien, and pulled the trigger.
No matter how many aliens Adam killed in the past, he couldn’t recall ever doing it in such a manner. The bolt entered the thick skull of the guard and was trapped there as it expanded. The eyes blew out, showering Sherri and Adam in red and grey matter, while another set of spray shot out from the ears like geysers. The guard fell against the wall of the corridor, staring up at the Humans with black, empty eye sockets, his huge mouth hanging open.
“Are you okay?” Adam asked Sherri.
“I am now. Search him for the keys to the handcuffs. I’ll check the other one.”
The second guard had the keys, and thirty seconds later, they were free.
Adam recovered the weapon from the second guard and then looked down at the smaller dead alien. “I wonder how many more are in the building?”
“We’re about to find out,” Sherri said. “We have to hurry. It’s only an hour to L-7. There’s no telling how long the Cartel is going to keep Riyad alive.”
“And Jay,” Adam added.
“Yeah, him, too.”
27
It was interesting what happened when the small fleet reached the planet Masnin. The six Cartel warships—none of the same make or model but each possessing considerable firepower—were stationed around the planet at a fair distance away, closing off the planet from ships either leaving or arriving. Sirous wasn’t taking any chances that his precious rifles wouldn’t be spirited away in the cargo holds of a dozen raider ships.
In the meantime, the huge flagship entered orbit as dozens of sensor screens lit up, scanning the surface with the most advanced tools available in the galaxy. Jay and Riyad were moved to one of the main stations and told to get to work. They looked at each other and shrugged as if to say, what do we do now?
What were they to do now?
“You said there were fifty shipping containers of weapons,” Riyad said to Jay. “If they’re all in one place, shouldn’t that give off some kind of magnetic field?”
Riyad wasn’t a scientist; he was just grasping for anything.
Neither was Jay.
“Hell if I know,” the kid said, panic evident in his voice. Then his eyes lit up. “Wait! Almost all the pods are still radioactive! Shouldn’t we be able to detect that?” He looked over his shoulder at the bruised-face alien behind him, a question mark in his expression.
“Possibly, depending on how deep the containers are stored.” He turned to other technicians. “Scan for hotspots.”
Riyad suppressed a laugh, seeing the effort the alien made to talk through the pain of this bashed up face. Yes, that definitely had the look of Adam’s handiwork.
“Unidentified vessels appearing on the surface,” someone on the bridge reported.
“Location?” Rocky asked. Until he learned his name, Riyad would refer to the bruised alien as Rocky, seeing that his face resembled Sylvester Stallone’s at the end of the original movie.
“Various locations.”
“Even so, helm, take us on a tour of the launch points. Scan for radioactive signatures at each”
Sirous stepped up to the alien. “Pannel, order your ships not to destroy the departing vessels. They could contain my weapons. I do not want them destroyed.”
Dammit, his name is Pannel. Riyad really was looking forward to calling him Rocky for the duration …
Rocky/Pannel looked askew at Sirous. “How do we keep them from departing?”
“Disable the vessels.”
“I do not hav
e enough ships for that. There can be no guarantee.”
Sirous scowled. “I need every device.”
“There is no evidence the ships carry the weapons—”
“Pannel, I am detecting a faint trace of increased radiation,” said one of the crew, stopping the debate.
Pannel and Sirous rushed to the station. “Where?” they asked in unison.
“Near the termination zone; I have marked the location.”
“Helm!”
“Proceeding to location. We will be over it in three minutes.”
“And my ships?” Pannel asked Sirous.
Bug-Eyes hesitated, then nodded. “Have them cover us from orbit. If the signal strengthens, we will affect a landing. I doubt much of the items stolen by the raiders would possess enough residual radiation to show up at this distance. It must be the shipping containers.”
Riyad bumped Jay’s shoulder with his fist. “Good job, kid. This thing could be over before it begins.”
Sirous heard him.
“You are also tasked with helping us recover the weapons. If the pirates offer no resistance, that would be preferred. Yet I doubt that will be the outcome.”
“Signal gaining strength,” said the scope-tech. “There is definitely a mass of radioactive sources at that location.”
“How strong?” Pannel asked.
“Detectable, yet safe with the appropriate gear.”
Pannel turned to Sirous. “Do you have enough environmental suits aboard for my soldiers?”
“For twenty, no more.”
“I have more on the support ships.”
Sirous nodded. “Bring them down. Prepare your assault. Captain, prepare to land. What is at that location?”
Another Cartel officer was on the Library, researching Masnin. “That is the location of the primary mining effort on the planet. There are huge chambers below ground. Access is through a large central airlock and two secondary points.”
“How large?”
“Not large enough for a ship. We must go in on foot.”
“Exterior atmosphere readings?”
“Breathable, but thin. Without assistance, no longer than five minutes.”
“Pannel, have your best troops suit up. Take the Humans with you. I understand they are accomplished fighters.”
“If they fight for us.”
“They have no choice, not if they want their friends to live. Hurry, the moment is almost at hand.”
Riyad could see the excitement building in Sirous. He had a hard-on for the rifles, although Riyad and Jay hadn’t been told specifically what he was going to use them for. Obviously, it would involve the death of a lot of beings. Riyad shrugged. Better them than us.
He and Jay obediently followed Pannel from the bridge to join the ground assault party.
28
Sherri and Adam encountered only two other aliens in the building before they made it out onto the street. Although the Cartel soldiers were alerted to the fighting taking place on the third floor, neither chose to leave the building nor join in the fight. Even so, the Humans didn’t care. They simply blasted them with their MKs and left the building.
That’s when they discovered that one part of Kanac looks like any other, especially late at night. They could be anywhere, but their main problem now was there were no transports on the street outside the building. The neighborhood was buttoned up for the night, and they had no idea how far it was to the spaceport. Without transportation, it wouldn’t matter. What was happening on Masnin would be over by the time they reached the spaceport on foot.
“There have to be cars somewhere in these buildings,” Adam said. “Look for anything that looks like a garage door.”
There were plenty of candidates, and they probably were garages from the heavy metal bars guarding their exteriors. Adam approached one and began tugging on the metal grill. His head still hurt from the initial hit he’d taken earlier in the evening, and Sherri was limping from the kick to her shin. Together they managed to rip a side of the metal barrier from the thin material making up the building. A little more effort and they had the screen off and the door open. Inside was a small, rust-red electric vehicle.
“Stop! That is not your property!”
The Humans turned to the surprise voice, coming face-to-face with a long-eared, hose-nosed creature holding a Xan-fi rifle in his hands.
“Sorry, buddy,” Adam said, “but we really need your transport.”
“I care not for your needs—”
Sherri lit off a level-3 bolt, fired from waist level, the weapon hidden by the angle of her body. Level-3 was meant to stun the average alien, and that it did. His body spasmed and then went rigid. He dropped the flash rifle while staggering forward. By the time the majority of his senses returned, Adam had the weapon scooped up and was gently setting the alien on the ground while patting his back.
“You’ll be fine. All we want is the car. Thanks.”
Sherri was in the driver’s seat, already straddling the joystick controller. Adam pursed his lips.
“I want to drive,” he said, pouting.
“Tough luck, dickhead. Get in the back.”
Electric-powered transports seldom had keys, and this one was no different. Adam waved at the still groggy owner of the car as Sherri pulled the vehicle from the garage. A moment later, they were racing along the deserted streets of Kanac, following the slope of the land to get their bearings.
The streets didn’t stay empty for long. A few minutes later, they found the main road through Kanac in the part of town that never slept. The sidewalks here were packed with drunk salvagers and other miscreants, and the roads were filled with vehicles driven by equally drunk drivers.
A couple of the more aggressive aliens tried to block their path, intending to steal the vehicle. That was common in this part of town. Adam simply lowered the window in the back of the vehicle and fired a couple of level-3 bolts into the would-be hijackers. He didn’t try to wing them; he was in no mood for that. His bolts hit them square in the chest and sent them writhing to the ground.
A few minutes later, they made it to the main road out of town and were racing toward the spaceport. In Kanac, a transport either had to be well-armored or fast. Fortunately for Adam and Sherri, theirs was fast. They made it to the spaceport ten minutes later and barreled through the gate and out onto the tarmac/dirt field. No security vehicles took up pursuit since there were none in service at the time. Nor had there ever been.
“Do you see it?” Sherri yelled from the front seat.
Adam was looking frantically, both out the sides of the car as well as the back. “Not yet. But it has to be here—”
“I see it!” Sherri yelled.
The Formilian Bokiss-Class starship was parked between a couple of huge freighters and was hard to see. Sherri skidded the car to a stop right at the side entrance, and they climbed out. Adam fingered in the security code for the door, and it slid open. Sherri jumped in before Adam.
“I’m driving this time!” he yelled after her.
“That’s fine. I’m on weapons.”
“I hope you’re not planning on taking on a fleet of Cartel warships,” Adam asked as he slid into the pilot seat and began firing up the controls.
“I’ll take on anyone I have to. This is my ex-husband we’re trying to save.”
“That will be a first for an ex-wife to say. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you still have feelings for him.”
“Right now, all I feel is anger that he got us into this mess in the first place.”
“That’s our Riyad, always working an angle.”
“Get us going … aren’t we there yet?”
“Patience, sweetheart. True love is so demanding.”
The Tirrell Joyner lifted off, churning up clouds of dust, dirt, and chemical exhaust on the way into space.
The Joyner was not only a powerful warship, featuring some of the most sophisticated electronics in the galaxy. It was also fast.
The journey to Masnin took only thirty-nine minutes, with a brief jump into faster-than-light speed.
“I have multiple contacts, some leaving the planet, with others concentrated at a location in the northern hemisphere,” Sherri reported.
“I see it,” Adam said. “Looks like seven ships on the surface; correction, one is lifting off. Probably coming up to dance with us. Looks like you’ll get to use your weapons after all. But one-on-one is hardly a contest.”
“I’m not looking for a contest,” Sherri announced. “I’m looking for some shock and awe. Powering up. Set me up for some good angles, Adam; it’s been a while.”
“We’re both a little rusty, my dear. I’m looping. Here we go.”
Adam’s calm belied his internal excitement. It had been a while since he’d been in a space battle, blazing through space at thousands of miles per hour, engaging in wild maneuvers while firing bright balls of star-hot plasma at an enemy warship. It was every kid’s fantasy. Somehow, the job of a barkeep just wasn’t the same.
Then reality set in. This was a true life-or-death situation and not child’s play. He got serious as he twisted the control stick to the left, whipping the Joyner into a wicked loop.
The Cartel warship responded by banking to its right, taking up the pursuit. But Adam didn’t speed away; rather, he closed the loop and came in broadside to the enemy vessel. Sherri opened up with the forward battery, spitting out a wide spread of six bolts, leading the Cartel ship.