The Revenant: A Military Sci-Fi Series (Hunter's Moon Book 2)

by Walt Robillard

  The Drogar's pick-up shot reverse pulsors to slow his vehicle, dropping away from the motorized melee. Kel smashed hard one last time, sending the sleek sport grav-car racing into the center divider for the highway. The repulsors tried to compensate for the obstacle, spilling the unrestrained occupants over the highway when the vehicle flipped over several times. One man survived the high speed tumble, only to be stuck by an oncoming vehicle who didn't see him trying to get his bearings. The man catapulted onto the hood, smashing into the windscreen, before being thrown over the roof.

  Kel mashed down the accelerator. He took note of a buzzing cell-com in his pocket. “Yeah?”

  “Two more coming at you from the next on-ramp. Twenty seconds,” said the grating voice.

  “You two close?” Kel asked, hoping that the gravel toned mayhem magnet and his partner would show up to even the odds.

  “I'd like to think we've become good friends, even though that's not a word he uses for some reason.”

  Kel swerved through another cluster of cars, glancing from side to side to see if he could spot the annoying mech converging on his pursuers. “I meant are you close to me?”

  “You're okay, too.”

  “Twin Hells, Fluff! Are you near my position?”

  A squeal of metal on metal sounded above him and in his earbud as the grizzly voice cooed into the comms. “I’ve been here since you ditched the first car.”

  Kel took his eyes off the road long enough to see multiple sets of vibro-claws pierced the roof. He keyed the display for the exterior of the grav-car. On top of the vehicle was a horror show of metal and mayhem. A duradium and resicarbon outer chassis covered myo-fiber reflex strands, over a maw of glistening terror. The robotic infantry mech, generation four, was built to look as if a mechanized panther and a nightmare had a love child. Two dorsal hatches opened, exposing auto-cannons to a target rich environment.

  “Step on it, tender foot!” Fluff howled. “Make sure to get ahead of this truck just in case.”

  Without responding to the taunt from the Doom Cat, Kel hit the throttle for all it was worth. The Silverback raced ahead of the grav-tractor trailer, easily gliding through a traffic pattern that didn't want to be anywhere near it. Holograms of map overlays filled the cabin, showing the position of their ship, Baby Doll, on approach to the warehouse district. The two other cars were about to make their way to the on-ramp, moving at a speed equal to Kel's. “Got any suggestions?”

  “Go faster. Don't crash.”

  “You're a lot of help.” Kel shouted.

  “You're welcome!” Fluff shouted back.

  Two black market drones flitted onto the highway, speeding above the traffic desperately trying to get away from the Fluff adorned grav-car.

  “They're spotting our position. Looks like they're speeding to the next on ramp. Probably going to try causing a traffic jam to slow us up,” Kel said.

  The auto-cannons on the back of the Doom Cat sent a pulse of concentrated energy at the two drones, blasting them in a plume of sparks and shattered resicarbon. Their death warbles didn't garner any sympathy from the murder mech. “Drones are down. Let's slow down a tick and see what my next victims are going to do.”

  Baby Doll came over the comm. “I have Kat. Do you want us to pick you up?”

  Kell shoved the sputtering navigation holos to the side, giving him a less distracted view of the road. “Negative. Stay there. At least there I know you're safe. We don't know what kind of ordnance these thugs are packing.”

  “Good plan. More for me,” Fluff remarked matter-of-factly.

  “Here they come.”

  The two box style trucks rolled onto the highway, cutting across the lanes to block traffic. The tractor trailer fishtailed as it tried to come to a stop, bashing several cars in the process. Drivers annoyed by the tactics got out of their cars, swearing through shaking fists at the two haulers obstructing the road.

  Metal shutters slammed over the windows of the cab, drawing strange looks from the crowd. The sides of the truck rolled up like a window shade, exposing a gunner on heavy blaster turrets.

  “Oh, that's not good.” Kel said through an exasperated breath. “Fluff!”

  “I see it. Don't go all soft on me now!”

  “Hold on!” Kel slammed the accelerator again. The Silverback rammed into the rear of the fish tailed grav-hauler, blasting out the rear repulsor. The back of the cargo box dropped to the ground. A moment later, the weight of the container fried the single repulsor trying to hold it, causing the trailer to fall onto the road completely. Fluff used the momentum of hitting the vehicle to catapult to the top of it.

  “Attention all meat bags! I am Fluffang Doom-Snuggle! While it's true you have two heavy blaster turrets, I am still deadlier and smart-ier than you. Surrender now or I will turn you into bags of chopped stupid.”

  The two men in the truck glanced at each other. A shoulder shrug from one was all the other needed to see. They opened fire, strafing the highway. Vehicles packed with passengers were shredded in a riot of fire and blood. A power cell on one of the grav-cars exploded, rupturing the chassis into burning shrapnel across the fleeing crowd. Runners were cut down like wheat under the farmer's scythe. A part of the roadway took another bolt after being rocked by the exploding car. Part of the surface fell to the streets below, carrying two of the vehicles along with a host of people. A second explosion rocked the highway, threatening to bring them all down.

  Fluff dropped from the trailer to land beside Kel. “I don't think they liked my speech.”

  “What was your first clue?” Kel said, hunkering down behind the broken trailer.

  “The shooting.”

  Kel reached over to catch a running Tyth couple. Blaster fire filled the vacated space a second later, tearing up the carcrete. They dropped to their hands and knees behind the truck, not wanting to take any chances if the shooting penetrated the trailer husk. Another woman took advantage of a lull in the gunfire to try making it to the trailer, only to be gunned down by bolts screaming through.

  A man jumped onto the highway from the street below, landing beyond the repulsor trucks. Another bound brought him to the opposite side of the carcrete lane divider. Hunkering behind the cover of the stone barrier, he removed an object from his back, giving it a shake down by his hip. The contraption elongated, locking into position as an ultra modern bow. He ran his finger along his back, coming away with three arrows.

  “Coming to you. Heads down,” said a new voice through the comms.

  A single arrow flew into the back repulsor of the first truck. The arrow detonated, rocking the vehicle enough for the gunner to lose his balance. He racked the actively shooting gun across the truck, demolishing the cab and its driver into a molten mess. Shrapnel from the apocalyptic arrow shattering the truck bed firmly lodged into his back, knocking him to the bed. He dropped the barking heavy blaster gun, trying frantically to pull out the embedded shiv cooking his flesh. The opposite gunner swiveled the turret in the other direction, careful to release the butterfly triggers so as not to shred the cab like his friend.

  “Fluff. Now!”

  Target mapping data filled the HUD of the newcomer's mask, showing him the Friend or Foe markers for all the players on the field. He knocked the second arrow, loosing it in a lazy arc. The head of the arrow burst into a brilliant flare. It struck the side panel on an abandoned luxury repulsor sedan on his side of the roadway.

  The gunner put a bevy of bolts into the flaming car, smashing the cabin into a burst of debris. He took a moment to scan the road. Oncoming cars on the opposite side of the highway had been quickly abandoned when the shooting started, turning the high speed throughway into a parking lot. People ran down the ramp to escape the auto-blasters reaping the crowds like the devil come for his due. The Chen shooter couldn't see the new assailant, but knew he was caught between a rock and a hard place. He unslung a compact blaster from his back, taking a moment to flick a few switches on the turret. It swung b
ack to the original direction, strafing the space by itself in short controlled bursts. He jumped from the truck, approaching the lane divider.

  Leaning over the divider, he expected to see a Tyth archer laying down behind the barrier. There was nothing but empty carcrete. He put one leg over the stone, careful to keep his line of sight even with the point of aim from his carbine. Shifting his weight to cross over the divider, something snatched his ankle. A duradium tentacle yanked him from his feet, hurling him in a wide arc before rapidly depositing him back to the street. He hit with a wet slap, spitting out several of his teeth in a bloody gurgling mess.

  “Not so tough now that you're on the wrong side of the storm, yes?” The other tendril writhed from Fluff's back, yanking the handle of the turret. He spun the gun, mid burst, slagging the remaining heavy blaster from the first truck. After one weapon ruined the other, Fluff ripped it from the mounting bracket, shattering it across the street. He slipped the coil from his captured victim’s ankle, replacing it around his neck. The toothless villain was dragged across the street by his face until the Doom Cat scooped him back to eye level. He gagged, trying not to choke on blood filling his mouth. Standing even with the monstrous machine's head, the Chen soldier spit in his face. Fluff activated the vibro-generator in the coil, energizing it to slice his head clean off. “Tasty!”

  Further down the street, the newcomer rose to launch his last arrow into the unblemished truck cab. It burst through the windscreen, filling the cabin with caustic, dark green smoke. The last living member of the Chen hit team fell out, coughing on the smoke from his smoldering flesh.

  “And they say I'm vicious,” Fluff said to the archer.

  He was of equal height to the Tyth, but much more broad. Red skin poked out from between the seams in the body armor. “Road's clear, here. We're coming down to you.”

  “Took you long enough,” Kel said, jogging up to the duo.

  An armored mask covered the newcomer's face, hiding his expression, but not his identity to his friends. He gave Kel an appraising nod. “Rest of the crew is down the ramp on our grav-bikes. We shouldn't stay here. Norro said that more Chen soldiers are mobilizing out of the south side of the city. They want that.”

  “Finder's keepers.” Kel said, waving the book toward his comrades.

  Fluff butted in. “You didn't find it, you shot a man three times for it.”

  “After I found it.”

  “Fluff. The ramp,” the archer interrupted.

  “On it boss.” The Doom Cat ejected one of its tendrils, scooping Kel off his feet.

  “Oh no you don't!” Kel protested.

  “Stop whining.” Fluff said as the trio jumped over the railing onto the street below.

  The ramp closed as the last of the grav-bikes was loaded onto Baby Doll. They were quick to rig them onto the deck, careful not to have anything fly free to injure someone once the ship was in motion. A mix of male and female Tyth were aboard the assault shuttle, hurriedly securing into the jump seats that held everyone in place during rapid takeoffs. The restraints were also rated for sudden landings but the crew weren't as eager to consider those.

  The archer moved through the space on his way to the cockpit. Several of the Tyth slapped him on the shoulder or acknowledged him in familial way. He tossed the bow to one of them, “Thanks for the loan.”

  Orin Lashra, the Mongrel, Tythian's favored son, pulled the mask from his face, taking a moment to also free his dreadlocks from the tie binding them. Although as tall as the Tyth, Lashra was half human, half Vosi. The latter side gave him the immense size and the strength while his human parentage made him less wide and more angular.

  He climbed the ladder to the cockpit, patting Yuzheff, their co-pilot, on the shoulder. “We good?”

  “We slipped out of the yard no problem,” Yu said with a stoic expression characteristic of the Tyth. “We're heading home now, unless you have somewhere else to go.”

  “No, sir. Home.” He turned to leave, winking to the raven haired woman piloting the ship.

  “Good to have you back,” Kat said.

  He took a moment to knock against her chair to say hello. He strolled over to the crew trying to get some of the gore off of Doom-Snuggle. Nodding to Kel, he said, “You got it?”

  Kel tossed him a small black notebook. Orin took it, pulling the elastic from the exterior case. “I still can't believe they're using paper.”

  Kel's expression changed to one of mock disgust. “Just before I got nabbed by the lancers, Chen started acting super paranoid. I put a couple of guys on her to watch for anything strange but she seemed to be conducting business as usual. The only thing they noticed was that she was really locking down her security. The notes she sent to her people were actually that, paper notes. She would have them scrawl stuff down on paper, then encode them so no one else could figure it. I managed to get my hand on one but not even my best slicer could decode it.”

  Orin held up the open book. “Can you read it?”

  “Not me.”

  “He can't read regular stuff, you want him to read that?” came a call from one of the crew. Reserved chuckling reverberated around the cargo bay.

  “I'll have you know I am a man of style and culture.”

  “Which might explain why you can't shoot worth a damn, Kel,” was the reply from the murder soaked panther-bot.

  More laughter rang out at Doom-Snuggle's joke. Orin crossed the room to one of the bikes. He reached for a cord securing a bundle attached to one of the seats. The tarp came off with a single tug, revealing a small woman tied to the frame. She moaned in fury through the tape across her mouth at seeing all of the crew

  Orin knelt down to stare into her eyes. “I'm going to remove the tape and the restraints. If you scream, the tape goes back on. If you try to hurt any of my people, Fluff gets to eat you. Understand?”

  The woman bobbed her pony tail up and down.

  “Good,” Orin said, cutting her bonds. He reached up, gently pulling the triple-5 tape from her mouth.

  “What do you want from me? And what is a fluff?”

  A heavy growl preceded duradium enhanced resicarbon talons tapping across the bay. “She looks a little too skinny to make an adequate snack.”

  The woman fell to the floor in terror at the sight of the Doom Cat. He slithered through the bay toward her, his tendrils occasionally pounding the deck. Some mad engineer had crafted his favorite fantasy monster into the mechanized creation currently inspiring terror in their prisoner. Orin had been glad of that on many occasions since they’d joined forces.

  “Hold a sec, Fluff. Let's see if she can be helpful first.” Orin said.

  “I can be helpful, I can be helpful,” the woman gabbled. “What do you want?”

  Orin threw the book to her. “I want that decoded. And before you tell me you can't do it because you've never seen it before or you won't do it because they'll kill you, you should know that I don't care about the second one and I know the first one is a lie.”

  “How's that?” She asked.

  Doom-Snuggle projected a hologram into the space between the mongrel and the mouse, showing the bay that the slicer had been a party to the book on several occasions.

  “Play nice with us and we treat you like a person,” Kel said. “You may even come through this with a little coin in your pocket. You treat us like idiots or try to burn us, we see how many bites it takes for our friend here to finish you off.”

  “I really hope she cooperates. The last Chen I ate didn't taste good at all.” Fluff snorted.

  “Did you try hot sauce?” asked another of the Tyth.

  “No way. That stuff gives me gas.”

  “I thought that was just exhaust fumes?”

  “Well, yes” Fluff said, bumping into the Tyth female. “Isn't it the same thing? Did I not say it right?”

  A second Tyth joined them, patting Fluff's neck. “It is, especially when she eats those serapti puffs!”

  More laughter bounced
around the crew. The prisoner looked about, finally settling on Orin, who wasn't taking part in the joke or lifting his stare. He was like a wolf sizing up whether he could finish a rabbit in one bite. Tapping the book on the table, he said, “Book. Now. You'll have time to worry about the cartel later.”

  Four

  The trio walked down the shadowy hallway in single file.

  Raevo was a Tyth, lanky and taller than a human, with ashy white skin. He had black circles with ornamental stripes tattooed around his eyes. The blaster pistol he wore under the jacket made it fit strangely for his frame. Wispy dreadlocks, tied into a tail, jostled with the enforcer's loping gait.

  In the trail of the procession was a Zheegan. Almost three meters tall and just as wide, the reptilian walked with a more pronounced lope than his partner. Hissing noises permeated its move down stairs, as though the monster was signaling to anyone at the bottom that he had the right of way.

  Between the pair was someone who didn't match the scenery of a grungy warehouse in the shipping district of a frontier city. She was human, of medium height and athletic build. She wore a business suit, cut in the latest fashion of the Core Worlds. It had a slight sheen to it, playing with the light in scintillating hues crossing the fabric.

  A hatch at the end of the hall slid open, revealing a hulking human behind the door. His suit had probably been tailored to him at one time, fitting his frame at the corners. His girth must have increased since, straining the buttons to their breaking point. He stared the woman up and down, waving his hand in a signal for her to put her hands up. “I need to search you.”