Renegade Empire: An Intergalactic Space Opera Adventure (Renegade Star Book 10)

by J. N. Chaney

  “Wait, Hughes,” gasped Rackham. “My men—”

  “What do you think I’m doing?” I asked gesturing down the other end of the corridor.

  “I have to help,” he said, trying to stand on his own. “It’s my duty as their commanding officer to—” He stumbled, hitting the wall hard as Freddie once more grabbed his arm to give the injured officer support.

  “Get to the ships, you stubborn idiot,” I said, swinging my rifle across my back as I drew both my pistols. “You’re in no condition to finish this.”

  “I have to try,” insisted Rackham. “I need to—”

  “No, you need to stop wasting time,” I snapped. “You’re going to slow us down if you come with us. Freddie, you keep your rifle at the ready in case you get any visitors,” I ordered turning my attention to the kid. “You don’t hold back, and you aim for the head. We clear?”

  “Yes, Captain,” Freddie said with a nervous nod. He lifted the man’s arm over his shoulder before adjusting his grip on his rifle, ready to go.

  As Rackham grimaced in pain, the Union man finally nodded, admitting defeat. Freddie tilted the wounded man back down the hallway, and the two staggered off as fast as they could hobble.

  I squared my shoulders, scoping out the bloody corridor before me and noticing a trail of blood that led around the corner. I slung my rifle and unholstered my pistols, lifting them in front of me as I checked on Abigail. “Ready, nun?”

  She smirked, cocking her rifle and setting the butt of the gun into the crook of her shoulder. “As much as I’ll ever be, Renegade.”

  16

  The trail of blood smoked along the polished floor as Abigail and I raced through the identical corridors. Truth be told, I was starting to believe this would be a waste of time. After stumbling across the broken body of Rackham’s man Grant, I was beginning to wonder if there would be anything left of the rest of his soldiers to bring back with us. Regardless, I was in this mess to the end, and I prepared myself for a bloody battle should the need arise… and I had the feeling it soon would.

  “Have you tried out the neutronium-tipped bullets, yet?” asked Abigail, adjusting her grip on the rifle in her hands as the polished metal of the sleek walls buzzed past us.

  “A few,” I admitted. “I tested a few back on Earth, but I didn’t want to waste them.”

  “Same,” said Abigail. “I only fired one.”

  “Something tells me we’ll get to fire a few more than that,” I said, slowing as we passed a thick puddle of blood. A dismembered hand lay in the middle of the floor. What remained of the Union soldier’s glove had been torn to shreds, the metal and fabric strewn across the floor in front of us.

  “Delightful,” said Abigail under her breath, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

  “Sir, please be advised,” said Sigmond through the comm link. “There appears to be movement ahead of you. Three life forms are currently engaged in—oh, actually, make that two. My sensors indicate that one of the Union soldiers has perished, unfortunately.”

  “Thanks for the warning, Siggy,” I said, grimacing at the details in it I hadn’t really wanted.

  Abigail and I took careful steps, cautious not to make a sound as we made our way down this stretch of corridor toward the next corner.

  “Seems a bit odd, don’t you think?” asked Abigail quietly.

  “What’s odd about this?” I asked, not bothering to mask my sarcasm as I gestured to the blood-strewn hallway.

  “Not the blood,” said Abigail impatiently. “It’s odd that, of all of us, it was the Union folks who encountered the Celestials. We were all exposed and vulnerable in smaller groups. Why didn’t we all come across them?”

  “I don’t think for one minute it’s odd,” I confessed. “Vick had them gunning for a body to carve up.”

  “You think they went hunting for the Celestials?” she asked, eyes widening at the idea.

  “I don’t think it,” I said curtly. “I know.”

  “Captain, Lieutenant Rackham and Mr. Tabernacle have boarded the shuttle,” informed Sigmond through the comm in my ear.

  “Good,” I said, letting out a slow breath. “It’s nice to get at least a bit of good news amidst all this mess.”

  As we rounded the next corner, I found another one of the Union soldiers lying on the floor by a terminal similar to the one Freddie had touched. A bloody handprint covered most of the pad, and a thin trail of blood smoked and boiled down the base—thanks to the lack of an atmosphere in this place—implying the man had died touching it and fell to the ground.

  I sighed in disappointment. “It seems like we might owe Freddie a bit of an apology, Abby. I’m beginning to wager that perhaps he didn’t set off the alarm after all.” I nodded toward the dead soldier as Abigail turned the corner.

  She grimaced in revulsion but pressed onward, never one to let a bloody death faze her.

  “Sir,” interjected Sigmond. “You’re nearing the location of the movement I detected earlier. My scans indicate there are still two living beings there, and I believe one of them is the last Union soldier that has been unaccounted for.”

  “Siggy, we’re missing two of them,” corrected Abigail. “Not just one.”

  “I’m afraid not, Miss Pryar,” said the Cognitive. “The other Union soldier perished a short while ago in that same hallway up ahead. Currently, Lieutenant Rackham and Private Barkley are the only remaining Union soldiers with active vitals. However, I believe Private Barkley is in immense danger. Based on his elevated heart rate and brain activity, as well as the screaming, it would seem there is an unknown entity currently accosting him.”

  “What screaming?” I asked.

  A chilling shriek tore through the air, almost inhuman and drenched with raw fear. Both Abigail and I lifted our guns on impulse, angling our bodies toward the noise. The wet, slushy sound of ripping meat followed shortly thereafter, and the agonizing screech of a man in mind-numbing pain echoed through the corridor.

  “That screaming, sir,” said Sigmond.

  “Thanks, Siggy,” I quipped under my breath. I pressed my back against the wall at the corner, pistols raised as I prepared to see what we were up against. Abigail stood next to me with her back to the metal surface behind us, rifle at the ready as always. She nodded once to let me know she was set to go.

  Carefully, I leaned only just far enough around the corner to gauge the threat. True to Sigmond’s word, one of the Union soldiers lay on the ground closest to us, still as death. Of the five, that was dead man number three.

  I sighed with disappointment, swallowing the growing lump in my throat as a bead of sweat ran down my cheek.

  Thick sheets of blood coated the walls on both sides of the hallway, dripping toward the floor like gory works of abstract art no one wanted. His body was angled away from us, but I noted the helmet—and head—were missing. It took a quick minute to find it a meter or so away in smoking blood and splintered bone.

  “Godsdamn,” I muttered at the brutality of it all, unsure of what else to say.

  “What is it?” asked Abigail quietly, leaning around me. I set a hand on her chest and slowly shook my head, warning her to stay back.

  That was when I saw it.

  A looming white creature stood in the middle of the hallway with its back to me, Private Barkley in its massive appendages. Its backside was round and heavy, two sets of arms protruding from its humanoid body. Attached at its neck, almost like a cloak, another layer of something protected the backside. Finally, two tusks protruded from its head, almost like the horns of a beetle. It was as Dressler had predicted—this was not the same kind of creature we had encountered on Earth. It was similar, but very different, and I suspected far more dangerous.

  Barkley looked like an oversized doll in the towering Celestial’s arms as it lifted him, turning him every which way, as if it were looking for a secret compartment on its new toy or trying to figure out exactly what he was.

  It lifted his leg in its othe
r hand, raising it to the light, the limb severed at the femur. As Barkley continued to scream, the Celestial tilted the still-dripping appendage this way and that, carefully examining the white bone amidst the shredded muscle and torn veins.

  I wrinkled my nose in disgust at its calm study, at the way it seemed indifferent to the pain it caused the man in its grip. We wouldn’t have long before the Union soldier bled out, and I had no idea how we were going to get him to the Nebula Prospect in time. I didn’t think there was a spray in the medic kit for that.

  But we didn’t come this far to give up on him while he was still breathing.

  Abigail’s head suddenly hovered beside mine as she stole a peek over my shoulder at the grisly hallway. “What in the heavens is that?” she whispered. “Don’t tell me that’s a Celestial.”

  “That’d be my guess,” I muttered.

  Just like Rackham had said, the creature was big and white.

  This thing was a whole new breed of ugly. The beast didn’t have any wings to speak of, but it made up for that with its stout body, which towered a good two meters over Barkley. It was built like a tank, its metallic skin resembling the smooth exoskeleton of an insect. As I studied its fearful symmetry, I suddenly felt as though we might be outmatched.

  “I don’t think we brought enough bullets for this,” said Abigail, taking the words right out of my mouth.

  The creature angled toward us ever so slightly, and I could finally see its horned face as it studied the still-screaming Barkley’s loose limb. If it heard him at all, it didn’t show a hint of annoyance—in fact, its perfectly expressionless face reminded me of a corpse. It had the same features, almost to the exact detail, as the Celestial we killed on Earth—and that cemented it for me.

  There was more than one kind of Celestial, and it seemed the one we had faced on Earth was just the beginning. That Celestial had been nimble and quick on its feet, not weighed down by much in the way of muscle. But this one we faced right now—this one was clearly a warrior, built for battle and blood. I figured where there was one, there were many, and it was fairly obvious that these things didn’t care to play nice.

  Beside me, Abigail lifted her gun and shifted her weight, ready to rush the Celestial while it was distracted, but I set my arm across her body and pushed her back into the other hallway where we had cover and a moment more to think this through.

  The former nun watched me for a moment, clearly frustrated by my decision. “Jace, he’s dying,” said Abigail in a hushed voice as Barkley screamed bloody murder behind us.

  “It won’t do any good for us to join him,” I pointed out. I hesitated, briefly debating our options, and eventually nodded to my pistols. “We’ve got to surprise it, Abby. Quick and done. We hit this thing with everything we’ve got, or we might not get a second chance. Once it’s dead, we can help Barkley. I can’t have you distracted helping him while this thing tries to kill us all.”

  She frowned, but ultimately nodded. Abigail knelt, propping her rifle against the corner to remain unseen. Together, we angled ourselves so that most of our bodies remained hidden as we took aim at the creature in front of us. Just a few shots, and hopefully we should be able to take it out.

  Neutronium-tipped bullets gave us the advantage—or so we suspected. It was time to find out the truth of our little theory.

  I fired the first round, and it sailed through the air, true to my aim.

  The round hit the Celestial square in the middle of its bizarre carapace, digging into the polished white skin. I fired off two more, each hitting its left side.

  To my disappointment, the bullets just sat there. The damn thing didn’t even bleed.

  I had expected it to fall to the ground—or stagger, at the very least—but it simply turned its expressionless face toward us and tossed Barkley’s body aside.

  The Union soldier screamed in anguish as he hit the wall and bounced to the ground, rolling toward a dried puddle of his comrade’s blood.

  Abigail fired off several shots, hitting the Celestial’s bare chest. Same as my bullets, they just sat there, not doing a thing.

  The creature curled its massive arms, flexing. Two shimmering blue blades made of hard light slid out from metal devices around its wrists, the semi-translucent objects glowing as the Celestial charged, ready to slice through us.

  “Oh, now that’s just wonderful,” I said, jumping out of the way and dragging Abigail with me as the Celestial swung at where we had been standing. The hard light blade cut effortlessly through the metal wall, slicing it as easily as a knife through a piece of fruit. “It has swords! The last one didn’t have godsdamn swords!”

  “Jace, this just isn’t the time!” said Abigail in a severe voice, instantly firing off six more rounds into the creature’s back. There was already a smattering of bullets in the thick skin along its shoulder blades, which I guessed must be the remains of Rackham’s spent ammo. True to his word, it seemed to have done a whole lot of nothing.

  “Swords!” I shouted anyway, incredulous as I fired off more rounds into its neck.

  “Sir,” interjected Sigmond. “Leif and his people managed to regroup, but they encountered two of the enemy on their way back to the hangar.”

  “Godsdammit,” I muttered as I ducked another swing from the Celestial’s blade. We just couldn’t catch a break. “Tell them to get out of there!”

  “They’re trying, sir.”

  I scurried back and away from the Celestial, still firing while Abigail reloaded. Once she was set, she raised her weapon and let a string of shots loose upon the creature, giving me the opportunity to expend my own magazine.

  “Send—I don’t know, Siggy, can you send a drone? Do something!” I barked, reloading the pistol.

  The Celestial went for Abigail, only barely missing her arm. We had one advantage, and that was the size of the enemy versus the size of this room. The confined space gave us little area to maneuver, but the same was true of the enemy.

  I gasped as the Celestial rammed an elbow hard against my chest, knocking me backward. I rolled several meters along the polished floor, momentarily unable to breathe.

  I stumbled to my feet, torn between rushing to save Leif and the cold dread of knowing we would never be able to outrun this Celestial.

  If I had to choose between Barkley and Leif, there wasn’t really a choice to make at all. Leif was one of my own, and Barkley just wasn’t. But Abigail and I couldn’t leave this hallway, not until this Celestial was dead. I had no doubt it would hunt us to the ends of this giant metal planet if it had to, and it would never, ever stop.

  “Siggy, do whatever it takes to get Leif’s team out of there,” I ordered. “Abigail and I will get to them as soon as we can.”

  I fired again as I spoke. Another dead shot in the creature’s body.

  “Yes, sir,” said the Cognitive. “Due to our numbers, they’re holding their own. But, sir, several have already been lost. I’m uncertain of whether or not they can maintain their advantage.”

  “I—” I gritted my teeth, trying to quiet my mind and focus on the bloody battle Abigail and I had to finish. One thing at a time. Just breathe. Focus. Fight. Kill. “Do whatever you can and help them, Siggy!”

  “Yes, sir,” said Sigmond.

  With the massive Celestial still trying its hardest to kill me and Abigail, I fired off four shots with my pistols. Each bullet lodged into the back of its knees. This time, its legs buckled, giving out as the sensitive joints took the brunt of the attack.

  For the first time, I saw the thin trickle of blue liquid seep from around the bullet wounds.

  Blood.

  “Aim for the joints!” I shouted. “There’s thicker skin in the muscled regions. Aim for anything with thin skin!”

  On cue, Abigail fired three shots into the back of the creature’s thigh as it turned around to face us once again. Its form shimmered, and bits of it briefly disappeared. First the head and arms, then the legs—but, thankfully, I could still see its
torso.

  “It’s trying to cloak!” shouted Abigail, firing her rifle as the Celestial charged us once again, those glowing blue swords swinging with deadly precision.

  It swung at me, and I slipped the cut just enough to watch the blade pass centimeters in front of my visor. I carried the movement through into a roll as the second blade cut through the wall behind me. Kneeling, I fired off another few rounds as the Celestial repositioned toward me, its body shimmering in and out of the malfunctioning cloak. “The neutronium is working, Abby,” I said, excited as I ducked another swing from the creature. “It can’t cloak!”

  “It might still be able to phase through the walls,” she warned, firing off a few rounds into its back. The creature pivoted toward her, a low growl building in its throat, and I took the chance to fire at its neck. The bullets dug into the skin, and this time, a bit more of the creature’s blue blood seeped down its white body.

  We were finally wearing it down. I just didn’t know how much longer we could hold out—or how much ammo we had left to finish the job.

  Abigail had a fair point about the creature possibly phasing through a nearby wall. Even though I ached to help Leif and his people face off with their own Celestials, losing track of this one was the last thing I wanted right now. If this creature escaped now, it could easily surprise us at the worst moment and catch us off guard—something we couldn’t afford. “Don’t let it phase out, Abby!”

  “That’s the goal, obviously!” she shouted, firing off a dozen rounds into the creature’s thick hide.

  “Leif and his people have successfully killed the Celestial,” said Sigmond. “They’re en route to the Nebula Prospect now.”

  “Thank gods,” said Abigail through the shared line as her rifle spit out another three shots.

  “They have any tips for us?” I asked, moving into the nearest hallway. I motioned for Abigail to follow, only partially retreating.

  “I will ask, sir. It does appear you could use the help.” It didn’t take him long to come back with an answer. “My apologies, Captain. Leif and his team took a similar approach. I believe their success was due largely in part to their numbers.”