Rise the Renegade (Rork Sollix Book 1)

by George Donnelly

  “Help me, Jupiter!” he yelled.

  Five-hundred meters ahead, a heavy door lowered across their narrow flight path. Rork arced the sled down hard but the result was only a gentle incline.

  “This thing handles like a damned frozen TV dinner!” he pushed up the accelerator again.

  She leaned forward. “That door rises from the floor, too! It’s titanium, five meters thick. Once it locks into place, we’ll be stuck.”

  “What the hell have you gotten me into?” he asked.

  “You were already in it when we met, you drunk gorilla! You can’t blame me for this! Go faster!”

  “I’m at max acceleration for this piece of junk!”

  There was precious little space between the two interlocking doors now. But he continued on, his teeth sawing each other, his shoulders tensed to the breaking point and his body shivering in a cold sweat.

  “Turn off! We’re not going to make it. We’ll go out through the hole where the X Tower used to be,” she said.

  As if this rock could turn that fast. He shook his head and sat back into the protective chair. He made a final, millimetric adjustment and cut the acceleration to zero.

  “What the hell are you—”

  The doors disappeared behind them and a thrill ran through Rork. Ahead lay the spaceport and above it the ephemeral force field between him and space. Mary Ellen’s face was a mix of fright and frustration. He giggled. They’d made it. He’d done it!

  A screech deafened him. His seat pulled back and the straps tore into his shoulders. The screeching stopped, and with it their forward movement.

  The ship rocked forward and backward, the great doors retracting and extending, attempting to meet, pushing, ripping and scraping.

  “You’ve killed us, you drunk fool!”

  He smiled at her. He switched to takeoff mode and edged the accelerator up. The ship hesitated and Rork pushed it higher. Metal screamed against metal above them.

  “What’s that?” she yelled.

  “Damned doors have brakes!” He gunned the upward acceleration. A boom sounded below them as the bottom door locked into place.

  Flashing red lights took his control panel. “Engine failure imminent. Core pressure exceeds red line operating limits.”

  Rork pushed the acceleration to the max. The force pushed him deeper into his seat and his back cracked. He switched to flight mode and the sled zipped out of the jaws’ stranglehold. He pulled the stick back and they rocketed into space just beyond the limits of the dome.

  Mary Ellen glared at him and shook her head. “That was the most empty-headed thing I have ever seen.”

  Rork laughed, his mouth wide open. “If there’s one thing this junk can do it’s take off with a million kilos of cargo on its back. Now, where—”

  A yellow light flickered on the panel to his far left.

  “It looks like we took hull damage. I need you to go back and look.”

  “What if it sucks me out into space? Why don’t you look?”

  “Someone has to look and I am currently... Oh brax.” There was the blip again.

  The radio illuminated on his control panel. “ESS John McCain to commercial sled Ironside, we believe you are harboring fugitives. Keep your present course and dial down acceleration. Prepare to be boarded. Any sudden moves will be met with force.”

  “Goddamned John McCain!” He slammed his fist into the arm of his chair.

  “Take evasive action!” she yelled.

  “I’m flying a rock! I told you that!”

  “Well, we need this to hold all the children.”

  “We’re not going to get that far. Now get back there and check on that hull damage. It could kill us before they can swing around and dock.”

  Mary Ellen unsnapped her straps and swiveled out of the chair. “Do we even know if there is atmosphere back there?”

  “Check the display next to the door.”

  “It says everything— Wait. Pressure is decreasing, just a little.” The door slid open and her boot clanked on the hard metal floor of the cargo hold.

  A cold draft assaulted his shoulders and he shivered. “Close the door behind you! It’s cold in there.”

  The door hissed shut and Rork’s radar console beeped. A new contact appeared, this one much smaller than the EDF destroyer and colored blue — one unknown to the computer.

  His stomach fluttered. Who is going to screw things up this time? He punched up his comms and searched for the rogue ship’s identifying marker. It had none. Its comms were off and it was flying silent. Just how I used to do it. Bad news.

  The door hissed open behind him. Mary Ellen’s perfectly choreographed footfalls sounded, then a light creaking. Rork popped his straps and swiveled, his hand at his waistline.

  A shivering Zero kneeled before Rork, the little girl asleep in his arms.

  Rork met Mary Ellen’s eyes. She nodded, spun and turned left into the kitchen. Rork kneeled down.

  “Mary Ellen’s getting you something warm to eat and drink. You’re going to be alright.”

  Zero’s face trembled and twitched. “I just can’t get away from you.”

  The girl reached for Rork and he held out his arms. Tremors ran through her little body and she started to cry. She was ice cold.

  “Are we home yet?” she asked him.

  Rork’s world turned sideways and he found himself laying on the floor. A sizzling sound ran across the outside wall. Cries of frustration came from the kitchen. He picked himself up and got back into the pilot’s seat. Additional laser pulses from the rogue ship arced inbound.

  Rork grabbed the stick and yawed hard to port. The pulses glanced off the edge of the sled with their telltale sizzle.

  “Commercial sled Ironside, return to previous course heading or we will fire.”

  Join the club. Rork twisted back to starboard but the sled barely responded. We’re dead. Goddamned dead. Never let a woman pick the ship you’re escaping in. He rolled his eyes at himself.

  Mary Ellen appeared next to him, her cheek against his, her cleavage under his nose.

  Rork sighed. So close yet so futile.

  “You veered off course, didn’t you?”

  “Of course I did! We’re under attack!”

  “You can’t do that! The destroyer will fire! Get back on course!” She grabbed for the stick.

  Rork stood up, scooted forward and grabbed the stick in between his legs. “I’m the pilot! I’m the captain! I make the decisions!”

  “You’re a pervert and you’ve killed us all.” She reached in between his legs and jerked the stick to the right, savaging his testicles.

  Rork closed his eyes, the low, thudding pain spreading through him. “A lot of good it’ll do you. Your precious ship requires an AU just to turn!”

  The ship rumbled and the bridge went dark. Mary Ellen let go of the stick and Rork leaned back in the chair, cradling his testicles. Something soft scratched at the door. It clicked and swung open.

  Glagnon strutted in, his grown belly peeking out from between his soiled white shirt and his shiny black pants. Thryk galloped up behind him.

  “Well, if it ain’t the best day of our recent lives!” Glagnon said through a broken-toothed grin.

  27

  “I CAN forget how you guys betrayed me and I’ll cut you in. But I’m the captain of this ship, undisputed.”

  Glagnon laughed, his hairy belly button jiggling in harmony with his guttural ejections. He pushed the cage door closed and the lock clicked into place.

  Across from Rork, Mary Ellen tried to get comfortable in her cage. Zero and the little girl played in theirs, giggling. Thryk kicked Zero’s cage and the little girl stuck her tongue out at him before continuing.

  “Captain Glagnon, sir, they’re having fun in the cage but that’s not allowed,” Thryk said.

  “Get back to work!” Glagnon yelled.

  “How would you like to take down Barbary? Big money,” Rork said.

  Glagnon stare
d down at Rork out of the bottoms of his eyes and farted. “Oh, good,” he muttered.

  Rork looked around. “Where’s Klambert?” He leaned against the back wall of the short cage and spread his legs out ahead of him. His remaining toes poked, free, out of the bars. His spine rubbed against the cheap, right-angled rods and he shifted himself to find the least painful position. The crown of his head compressed against the top of the insufferable prison, his hairs scratching his scalp.

  “Dead. Barbary got him. And now you’re working for him. Traitor.” Glagnon spit the last word.

  “I don’t remember giving permission for my crew to be killed. And I’m not working for him.”

  “Llamabrax! All the news is saying it. ‘Rork Sollix, Cartel agent.’ You hijacked the trainship, planted the bomb and rammed it into Luna City. Do you know how many people you killed? I hope he paid you for that.” Glagnon shook his head and sighed. “You know what we could have done with that cargo. Ten-thousand. That’s at least a hundred fifty million. And you handed ‘em over to the man. You’re working for him. No other way it can go. Nope.”

  “He still has Lala. And I think he has my dad, too.”

  “I give a brax!”

  “You mean you don’t give a brax?” A sly grin crept across Rork’s face.

  Glagnon turned his back and walked toward the exit.

  “After this, we raid more, just the way you want. I’ll make you rich,” Rork said.

  “Play nice and maybe I’ll trade you bunch for Lala and a reprieve. Get tricky and I let down the back door. Don’t get tricky with me, Rork.” Glagnon walked out and slammed the metal door behind him. The lock spun into place.

  “Is he going to crush us or something?” Mary Ellen asked.

  Rork jerked a thumb behind them. “That’s the backdoor. He hits a couple buttons in the cockpit, it opens and we’re icicles in permanent orbit.”

  “Oh. What are we going to do?”

  He laughed. “Nothing. He holds all the cards. But have you noticed? Someone is always chasing me. Someone will catch up and free us, if only to put us in a different cage. Hopefully a warmer and more comfortable one.”

  “I think we have more important things to worry about than a more comfortable cage.”

  “To each his own, I guess.” He closed his eyes and folded his hands on his chest.

  “Really, what is our plan?” she asked.

  “Man proposes, but only the Universe disposes,” Zero said.

  “Shut up!” Mary Ellen and Rork said in unison. Their eyes met and they laughed.

  “We finally see eye to eye on something,” Rork said.

  “The smartest move is to hit the corporate HQ first. From there we can find where the Cylinder is and we can destroy his command and control,” Mary Ellen said.

  “What about the transport hub? And you told me you already knew the location of the Cylinder!” Rork put his hands behind his head and it alleviated some of the pain of hard metal against scalp.

  “It moves around.”

  Another loose variable. “What I really want to know is why my brother is working for him.”

  “He pays well. He’s smart and he’s thinking five steps ahead of you at all times. He traps people and he plays with them, as if they were puppets. Literally.”

  Rork cleared his throat. “I also want to know why the EDF destroyer helped Barbary attack Luna City.”

  Mary Ellen guarded her silence, her lips shut tight.

  “Why did Barbary want to do that in the first place?”

  “Come on, Rork, you’re a smart man. He’s playing for control of the system. He has everything except Mars, the Moon and Earth. Mars is pointless and whoever controls the Moon controls Earth. Plus, he stands to make a fortune from the rebuilding.”

  He nodded. But why was the EDF helping him?

  “It’s going to be a long haul to take down the HQ, though. Do you think these monkeys have supplies?” she asked.

  “This is madness,” Zero yelled. “We need to get those children and return them to their parents on Earth.”

  “Most of those kids have no parents,” Mary Ellen said.

  Zero covered the little girl’s ears. “Bite your tongue, young lady!”

  “I bet Barbary paid off the destroyer’s captain. The EDF doesn’t pay very well,” she said.

  “But there is such a thing as honor! And duty!” Zero wiped his brow. “Why is it getting hot in here!”

  “I didn’t notice,” Rork mumbled, looking down at his mostly naked body.

  “I want to know what your plan is, Rork! This is getting really boring,” she yelled.

  The wheel on the bulkhead spun and they went silent. Glagnon’s gut protruded into the cargo bay.

  “Shut the hell up! I told—”

  Glagnon toppled forward, his head smacked the metal floor with a hollow thud and his belly bounced on the frame.

  Thryk appeared behind him, a wrench the length of his forearm raised above his head.

  “I got ‘em, Captain Rork. I got ‘em for ya!”

  “Good work, Number One!” Rork pulled himself forward and kneeled at the front of his cage.

  “Ma always told me I was officer material and by Jupiter, she was right!”

  “Thryk! Open the cages, so we can get to work,” Rork said.

  “But I don’t have the key. Glagnon put it somewhere and—”

  The comms snapped on. “This is Jord Sollix, agent for Gamil Barbary. I know you have Rork. Hand him over now or prepare to meet your end in the vacuum of space.”

  A red pulse flashed across the bridge viewscreen casting a fiery shadow across their faces.

  28

  “HIDE, THRYK! Hide!”

  The bridge hatch door clanged open and heavy boots hit the bare metal floor.

  “I’m shooting to kill,” said Jord Sollix. “So stay out of my way.”

  Jord looked into the cargo hold and discharged his weapon into the prostrate Glagnon. A flame leaped from the man’s back and Jord stomped it out.

  “Brother, he’s knocked out!” Rork said.

  “Shut up. I thought he was lying in wait.” Jord walked over to Rork and motioned him back with a flip of his gun hand. He lasered the cage lock. He walked to Mary Ellen’s and did the same.

  Rork crawled out of the cage, dusted himself off and stretched with a grunt.

  “Who’s this prap?” Jord indicated Zero.

  Rork shook his head. “Don’t.”

  “Just tell me who he is, baby brother.”

  “He’s a preacher. A good—”

  “Got no use for him.” Jord fired three, quick laser blasts through the top of the cage.

  Zero moaned and the little girl cried, slowly at first.

  Rork stepped towards him. “There’s a baby in there, you ignorant snoof!”

  Jord turned and put the gun on him. “I can take your leg off below the knee, both your forearms or even make you piss like a woman for the few remaining, miserable days you have ahead of you, and still complete my contract. So don’t tempt me.” He motioned with the gun toward the bridge.

  “Ladies first.” Rork bowed to Mary Ellen and she thanked him with a scowl.

  “Come on, Romeo.” Jord pushed Rork through the door.

  Rork slowed his step and looked back at Zero. Was he dead? Or just playing possum? “Wherever you are, Lord, take care of these, your children. Heal them up and take them to HQ.”

  “Let’s go!” Jord cracked the handle of the pulse pistol against the crown of Rork’s head and the pirate fell to a knee.

  Rork picked himself up, rubbing his head. He crouched and propelled himself head-first into the razor-thin, accordion-like docking tube. He was weightless now, and he started to shiver. He tapped the sides to propel himself toward his brother’s ship.

  I’ll arrive first. I can take control, knock him out as he comes across. He pushed himself harder. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead. An icy chill ran down his ribs as the chill of space
met the sweat pouring from under his arms.

  He threw himself the last bit into Jord’s ship and landed, face-first on the dusty metal-plated floor. He got himself up and found the terminal optics of a pulse pistol digging into his forehead.

  “Stay down, eyes on the floor, son,” the gruff voice said.

  Rork looked up. A balding, potbellied man in a dark turtleneck and a synther jacket looked down on him. His eyes were hollow and dark.

  “Dad?”

  “Just be quiet, son. Do as your told. Not that you ever have.”

  Mary Ellen hopped expertly into a crouch and eyed him intently.

  Rork looked down the tube. “There are people on there. You better close that door before your disengage, Jord!”

  “Screw you!” Jord hopped in and leapt into a run to the pilot’s seat. He tapped the console and the inner door closed. Machinery sounded as the accordion tube retracted.

  “You’d better have closed the door! Or I’ll kill you with my bare—” Rork started.

  The old man swung the pistol grip down on Rork’s head and the pirate fell to his buttocks to the cold floor. He reached up and touched his forehead. A trickle of blood traipsed through the pronounced ridges of his index finger.

  “Your own son, Dad. Your own son,” Rork said.

  The legendary Band Sollix turned away. He walked across the bridge and took a seat behind Jord, his pistol across his nervous knee.

  “They’re your family?” Mary Ellen whispered.

  Rork nodded.

  “They work for Barbary. I’ve seen them before.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Gee, what a surprise. I’m shocked to my core.”

  She slapped his shoulder and sat back against the wall.

  Band turned to her, his pistol raised.

  She held her hands up. “Am I not allowed to unwind between cages? Where are we going, anyway?”

  The old man grunted, then relaxed.

  Rork threw himself to his feet and ran to the front port. The Barbary ship turned away. Far to starboard he spotted his old MORF-9.

  The doomed ship whizzed away from them, powered by the white gas escaping from its forward hatch.

  Rork leaned forward, his core muscles collapsing. Zero, the girl, Thryk. Defenseless, dying a slow death. I am their captain. I am supposed to protect them. And I failed.