“Did you find them?”
“They disappeared.” He shrugged. “I reached an area guarded by a squad they left behind. On my way back, I caught sight of another squad sweeping the outskirts. It’ll be a while before they get here, but we should get a head start. How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine.” She turned her head away as she belched.
“How are the legs?”
“Stiff and a bit numb around the scar, but I can walk.”
“Might just be nerve damage. You’ll get used to it. You think you can travel a few miles?”
“I said I’m fine.” She climbed to her feet as proof, careful not to disturb the slumbering puck. “Where are we going?”
“There’s an industrial estate west of here and plenty of cover along the way. We’ll be okay as long as we stay low. Keep your gun’s safety on but set it to full power. These guys look like they’re packing some serious tech.”
Booster opened his eyes and stretched with a yawn. On seeing Nakamura, he climbed onto Clio’s shoulder and growled viciously, swiping at the air with a clawed hand.
“Easily frightened, eh?” The Aegis laughed.
“Don’t be scared, Booster. This is my friend, Sai Nakamura. Okay?”
The puck gave a distrustful squeak.
“Xerocorp Labs is twelve miles away. I’ve got a fair measure of the enemy’s movements. If we time it right, we should hit the industrial estate undetected well before dark.”
“Then what?”
“Then we cross that bridge when we get to it.”
They gathered their things, and Aegis Nakamura bore the heavier items despite his one arm.
Clio threw the field pack over her shoulder and activated the mobile shield unit strapped to her chest. Booster used the MSU straps to climb onto Clio’s shoulder and found his way into the field pack’s main compartment. It worked out well since Clio wasn’t sure what she was going to do with him.
“You’re taking the puck?”
“We can’t just leave him here.”
“You understand that once we’re out that door, we need to stay as quiet as possible and can’t stop for anything?”
“He’s lasted longer than we have down here,” she said. “I think he knows what he’s doing.”
Booster squeaked from inside the pack in answer.
Nakamura seemed amused and scratched his head. “If worse comes to worse, we can always eat him.”
Booster hissed, and Clio had to fight back a smile.
Nakamura checked his SIG then looked Clio in the eyes. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”
“I can take care of myself, old man.” She drew her weapon and Booster ducked into his bag and closed the cover.
Nakamura moved out the door, and Clio stayed on his heels.
On reaching the ground level, the Aegis checked outside before signaling that the area was clear. They squeezed through a crack in the leaning wall and hurried to a row of collapsed buildings across the street. Little remained of the structures, but the rubble provided decent cover. When Nakamura was satisfied it was safe to proceed, he moved along the sidewalk, skirting a line of ruined retail buildings.
Clio followed.
They quietly progressed from one street of pre-fab buildings to another, hugging shadows where and when they could.
Clio looked to the center of town where the buildings grew taller against the broken gray clouds. The city had become eerily quiet, and if not for the damage and faint smell of smoke, it could have been mistaken for just another day.
They passed through an area where entire streets had been leveled. What nearby structures still stood sported cracks, crumbling walls, and broken windows.
Her sight was still far from perfect, but Clio had yet to see any bodies, which she considered strange. She made a point to ask Nakamura about it later.
The Aegis pointed to an overturned vehicle, signaled the all clear, and Clio followed as he sprinted.
Booster shook violently in her field-pack. She wondered what was wrong when something dropped out of the sky, striking the splintered cobbled stones ahead.
They stopped dead in their tracks, weapons raised.
Clio’s heart raced.
The creature stood at least seven feet tall, slick black armor covering every inch of its gangly body. Despite its lean appearance, the invader emanated a sense of power. It had its back turned on them, and Clio wondered if it had even noticed they were there.
16
BT-12-7HL99
Randai reached Abundustown after curfew. Most public lights across the Underways had gone out, submerging the slum-city in twilight. Curfew was rarely enforced. It wasn’t the best time to be out walking in the city, unless you didn’t want to be seen, and Randai had no desire to run into the Abundus clan.
He stepped off the old, musty train and onto a lifeless street, traffic and station systems humming somewhere in the distance. It had been years since Randai last set foot in the human district. He wouldn’t have been overly concerned about being an ex-Abundus thug, but his differences with the Abundus crew stemmed from an indiscretion with the boss’s eldest daughter. It had happened many years ago, and chances were no one remembered him anyway, but that was a risk he could ill afford.
Some avenues lay in complete darkness. Sparse light spilling from inhabited building slightly illuminated others. Randai avoided those streets and took care not to walk out in the open.
Getting Cho to stay back in Bometown had taken some convincing. Humans didn’t like Shanti at the best of times. A member of a rival clan walking into District Nineteen would be foolish, not to mention the unwanted attention it would draw. Randai wasn’t sure whether to admire the kid, but if he was going to successfully complete the job Mr. Darcy had hired him to do, he needed to fetch his old gear, and that wasn’t going to happen with Cho following him around enemy territory like a lost puppy.
Randai walked a few miles to the docks where he expected things to be reasonably quiet. To his dismay, either the Abundus clan had upped their business, or a large shipment had just arrived. The area was much livelier than he would have liked. He climbed an abandoned building beyond the yards and observed the activity from a distance.
Cranes whizzed back and forth, transferring shipping containers between loading bays and freight ships bound for the Sentinel’s spaceports. Dozens of dock workers moved about the facility, and Randai noted security guards doing their rounds. It was less than ideal, but he would have to manage.
Requesting that the storage company release his gear simply wasn’t an option. It would have involved answering questions Randai preferred not to answer. The Abundus clan learning that he was still alive would further complicate matters. Besides, he had no guarantee the storage facility would release his belongings in time.
Randai walked the fence perimeter until he found a scalable section close to storage area BT-12-7HL99. Happy the area was particularly quiet, he did his best not to rattle the chain-link fence as he climbed and dropped into the yard without incident.
Stacked containers didn’t provide a lot of options for hiding, but small outbuildings and vehicles punctuated the lanes at intervals. Trash blew by in a light breeze, Randai noted how the place was as much of a dump as he remembered. The stench of something half-rotten assaulted his senses, and he tried not to puke.
The previous day’s hangover got worse before it got better. Randai hadn’t gone so long without a drink since as far back as he could remember. His throat felt dry, and his hands shook if he stood still for too long. He wanted nothing more than a bottle of Saladaka Brandy. Mr. Darcy had offered Randai a place in his VIP lounge where the drink flowed freely, but he declined given what had happened the last time he took the Varg snake up on the offer.
Finding the correct warehouse took much longer than Randai expected. The yards had exploded in size, and most buildings looked the same in the low light.
Randai carefully darted between shadows until he found the number he was look
ing for.
Before arriving in Abundus territory, he accessed a public terminal and hacked the yard’s storage manifest to make sure his gear was still there. While in the system, he obtained an updated access-code database. Randai was surprised by how fast hacking came back to him. A security update had proven troublesome, but once he’d figured that out, he had free rein of their system.
The warehouse loading bay doors lay wide open. Before any workers showed up, he slipped in and wound his way between the corrugated storage units until he found the door matching his serial number. Randai was about to confirm the access codes when footsteps approached. He abandoned the door at once and slipped behind a pile of stacked crates. In his haste, his boot knocked one free, and it crashed to the ground. He cursed himself under his breath.
“Did you hear that?” a high-pitched voice squawked.
“It came from over there,” a second, much deeper, voice grumbled.
Randai slowly drew his knife. Firing his blaster would set alarms off everywhere. Two guards he could deal with, but an entire security force was another story.
His body tensed as the footsteps drew closer. Randai was about to spring when something brushed up against his leg. Giant station rats swarmed around his feet, but he remained as still as possible. One clawed at his shin and he carefully kicked it out of the way, sending it scurrying with the others.
“Damn rodents,” the high-pitched guard shouted.
“At least it isn’t a knolra. Lane five still stinks after the last one they found.”
“Haven’t seen a knolra in ages,” The squeaky guard snorted. “These damn rats are everywhere. I mean, where do they keep coming from?”
“Another refrigeration unit must have failed. I’ll message maintenance.”
“The exterminators were down here just the other day.”
“Sometimes I wonder what those bastards get paid for,” the deeper voice said.
“I bet they kill just enough to make it look like they’ve done their job and leave a few so they can breed. A good way to stay in business, I suppose.”
The deep-voiced guard laughed. “It would beat walking around here with you every night.”
“Fuck you,” the other screeched. “Do you know they say that Terrans brought rats on board the station over a hundred years ago?”
“Sounds like some anti-Terran propaganda shit to me.”
“Makes sense, though, doesn’t it? Worst kind of vermin, the whole lot of them.”
“If the boss hears you saying that, he’ll put a hole in you.”
Their voices grew louder as they got closer. Randai got ready to pounce again when another crash sounded from the other side of the warehouse.
“More bastard rats. I’m seriously gonna have words with those exterminators next time I see them.”
“Yeah right,” the deep voice laughed again. “You see the size of that Meladin guy. There’s more muscle on him than the two of us put together and then some.”
“More muscle means fewer brains.”
“I’d love to see you say that to his face.”
“Let’s check it out.”
They moved along, and their conversation faded into silence. Randai realized he was rubbing at the old scar on the back of his head.
When the area was clear, he returned to the keypad and entered the access code. A lock clicked as it disengaged, and the metal panel slid aside. He walked into the dark container and waited for the door to close before locking it and switching on the lights.
A mostly empty space stretched out before him, harsh white light casting crinkled shapes over corrugated sheets. A tall gray locker rested against the far wall of the storage unit where he’d left it seven years before.
Randai crossed the space, held his hand against the locker’s print scanner, and entered another code when prompted, a number he never forgot. His old badge number.
The locker doors hissed open, releasing a puff of pressurized gas. Randai swiped at the fog with his hands as the doors clicked and slid aside. A dark blue SIA tactical exoframe appeared before him. It had been one of the more advanced archagent models back in the day but was outdated by modern standards. A few modifications would see it brought up to spec.
As Randai reached out to touch his old armor like a father would a long-lost son, his SIG vibrated.
Stavo—Mr. Darcy’s black-market contact. Randai answered with a whisper. “I can’t really talk right now.”
“It’s about the implant chip you asked about,” Stavo said in his thick Underways accent. “You said it was urgent.”
“You’ll have to be quick.”
“The soonest the Surgeon can see you is in three weeks.”
“I already told you that I can’t wait that long,” Randai said. “I have two days, max.”
“Relax, man. I’ve got your back. I happen to know a guy who knows a guy who can fit a chip for you now.”
“Right now?” Randai tried not to sound overly surprised.
“In two hours.”
“Where?”
“District Twenty.”
“Are you crazy?” Randai already knew the answer to that question. “I can’t be seen in Oldtown. I’m already risking my neck going this deep into Abundus territory.”
“Listen, buddy.” Impatience crept into Stavo’s voice. “There ain’t no one else gonna get you an appointment with that kind of notice. Even unlicensed professionals have businesses to run.”
“Okay.” Randai drew a breath and took a moment to process things. Stavo made a good point. “Tell him I’ll be there.”
“You’re the boss, boss.”
A brief vibration signaled the end of the call.
Randai shook his head and his attention returned to the locker. He lifted an old musty cloth from a shelf next to the TEK and unwrapped it to find an old knife, almost twice as long as the one in his belt. It had been a gift from the same Omnion who had given him the artifact. He never used the weapon before giving up on his past life, though Randai always considered it more decorative than functional. He looked closely and found the blade as clean and polished as the day he’d stored it.
On the other hand, a thin misty layer of cold storage vapor covered his TEK. In the far-right corner hung a Demon D40 assault rifle and a P400 automatic blaster. They were among the best weapons to have come out of Earth. Beneath them rested what Randai really needed. His old custom-built Twin Cobra sniper rifle lay against the locker wall in two parts.
He took a long hard look at it all. TEK and weapons alike had acted as extensions of his body back in the day. But for some reason, while he mused over them, they seemed strange…even foreign. Randai barely recognized the name under the breastplate badge: the name he had forsaken before returning to the slums seven years previous. Randai was merely the alias he’d adopted after faking his own death.
He lifted the sniper rifle and clipped it together with a satisfying click before giving it a quick once-over. It needed a thorough cleaning but was otherwise in good order. He pressed a button on the TEK’s chest-plate, and a storage compartment hissed open. Randai carefully retrieved a thumb-sized vial of suspension fluid. He held the clear tube gingerly as he examined his old implant chip floating in the transparent substance. Reprograming and reinstalling the tiny, silver-black chip was the next item on his list.
Randai turned and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror on the inside of the left locker door panel. A weary old man stared at him. Saliva gathered in his throat, and he swallowed a bitter cocktail of regret and sorrow. He’d lost everything when the Galactic Council tried to kill him: his relationships, his possessions, his dignity. Maybe part of him did die back then. Maybe the shadow of a man he’d become—Randai Kahn—was simply another incarnation. He turned away from the mirror, feeling somewhat disturbed.
He put the glass tube back in the compartment and ran his thumbprint along the TEK’s activation sensor. The armor whined as power flooded its circuits, filling the actuato
rs for the first time in years. The sound caused something to shift inside of him. Nostalgia and excitement blazed and burned years of accumulated rot to ash.
Randai drew a deep breath, and a wind blew through his soul, stirring what lay beneath the ashes. He realized that the feeling was not nostalgia and excitement, but that ethereal thing called life. Had it really been so long since he’d felt alive? The sensation had become alien over the years, but now it welcomed him like an old friend.
Randai Kahn’s remains drifted away on the wind and revealed the man who had spent years buried under a meager masquerade.
The time had finally come for Archagent Taza Arkona to return to the land of the living.
17
Much Anger
Strange appendages protruded from the invader’s shoulders. A thin, gray mesh flickered, and Clio realized the creature had insect-like wings. It explained how it had survived a fall from out of nowhere.
Booster quietly whimpered as he half-climbed out of the field pack and rested his head on Clio’s shoulder. The creature’s back was still turned, as though it hadn’t noticed them.
Before Clio could pull her trigger, she noticed a wriggling bundle under one of six arms. Not a bundle. A little girl. No more than four years old.
Aegis Nakamura waved at Clio with his stump and signaled for her to lower her weapon.
Clio obeyed, relieved she didn’t have to risk shooting the civilian child. Despite her implants, she’d never been a great shot.
Sai Nakamura kept his rifle trained on the alien as he silently advanced several steps for a cleaner shot.
The child looked up at the Aegis and her eyes widened with horror. “Help me!” she screamed.
Booster squeaked in horror and tightened his grip on Clio's shoulder, sinking his claws through her tattered uniform and into her skin. She was in such shock the pain barely registered.
The invader spun and reached for its stowed rifle, but Nakamura took his shot.
A spray of bullets to the chest knocked the alien back, and the girl let out a horrifying shriek.
The Galactic Sentinel: Ultimate Edition: 4 Books with 2000+ Pages of Highly Entertaining Sci-Fi Space Adventure Page 12