Wings of Steele 3: Revenge and Retribution

by Jeffrey Burger

Steele nodded, “Good point.” He took a deep breath. “Stand down the crews. What's our time to Rikovik's planetoid?”

  “We should make port in about two hours. Unless you want to jump.”

  “No, let's not give anything away, two hours is fine.”

  ■ ■ ■

  From space, Rikovik's Reef looked like a brown blob with spikes, dotted by lights and dirty neon... Upon closer inspection, it was much worse; a grimy brown asteroid, covered in cobbled black structures layered in red rust, covered in dilapidated lights and colored neon, probably scrounged from sign junkyards all over the star system. It looked like a decrepit ghost town, a place that hopes and dreams went to die. Die a long, agonizing death. “Such a happy and cheerful looking place,” quipped Jack sarcastically. “Like the stuff of nightmares.” He wasn't sure if the attempt at lighting and color made it look slightly more inviting or just more desperate. He was leaning toward desperate.

  For Lisa, just the sight of the place made her stomach roll uncomfortably.

  “The tower is requesting berthing preferences, skipper,” announced Ragnaar.

  “What are the options?” asked Jack.

  “Internal or external, sir.”

  Jack and Brian exchanged glances. “Internal might be easier to load cargo if we're lucky enough to find what we need,” said Jack.

  Brian nodded. “Makes sense. Internal, Mr. Ragnaar.”

  After a brief exchange with the tower, a landing guide appeared on the big screen, displaying an approach pattern for the Raven, akin to stripes on a road, showing a traffic lane. Digital statistics and traffic information scrolled next to the approach overlay.

  The grubby, desolate appearance of Rikovik's Reef was just that, an appearance. A false impression of her actual condition; which was a bustling urbanized planetoid... with a little frontier flavor. As they neared the cavernous opening the navigation aid was guiding them towards, they could see rows of windows in the rock face, whether they were offices or residences it was unclear. A train passed above them, the monorail following along the outside of the planetoid, disappearing into a tunnel, taking it inside the rock.

  The Raven passed through the massive stasis field at the bottom half of the planetoid's waist, dwarfed by the open maw carved through the rock, before entering the interior spaceport of Rikovik's Reef.

  “I think you'd be able to fit the Conquest in here,” whispered Jack.

  “Sure looks like it,” agreed Brian. “My God, it goes all the way out through the other side.”

  “Probably to accommodate the ore freighters when they were mining,” explained Ragnaar.

  Ships of all types lined either side of the bay, the Raven was required to fit into a mooring space between two others. Alignment targets appeared on the screen as the traffic guide disappeared. At the helm, Quixetta maneuvered the ship gently into place, crabbing it sideways with maneuvering thrusters, maintaining her attitude. The alignment targets flashed green and he released the controls as docking clamps extended out to the Raven's hull. Two resounding kachunks reverberated throughout the hull, the floor moving slightly. “Clamps secure, we're in.”

  ■ ■ ■

  Jack, Lisa, Draza Mac, Brian, Ragnaar and Raulya stood at the open hatch to the gangway double-checking last minute details. “Everyone stays armed,” ordered Jack. “And a full security detail here and on the ramp if we open for cargo.”

  Brian nodded. “I got it. Don't worry, I'm not taking any chances. We'll keep the warmers managing the core temps. Just in case.”

  Walking down the gangway to the dock, Jack, Lisa and Draza Mac set their TESS' to mark the location of the ship. Standing on the dock getting their bearings, the expanse of the interior spaceport only became more evident, ships moving through the interior past the Raven, past ships berthed on the opposite wall.

  Offices above them carved into the rock of the planetoid, sealed with glass walls, stretched the length of the spaceport. Gantries reached across to the other side, moving cargo with cranes, material haulers moving back and forth along the docks.

  “I feel so small,” muttered Lisa.

  “Welcome to Rikovik's Reef,” greeted the man passing between them and the terminal doors. “Can I help you?”

  “We're looking for parts...” offered Jack. The man was dark complected, the kind of color a man gets from years in the sun, his face lined and leathery.

  The man scrunched his face in disbelief as he looked the Raven over, “She looks OK to me...”

  “We're looking for parts for a client,” explained Jack, “not for her,” he motioned in the direction of the ship.

  “There are several dealers here...”

  “Who's the biggest?” asked Lisa.

  “That would be Deep Black, young lady.” The man looked her over, considering her curves in the leather and fabric bodysuit. “Not the best side of the city though...” He pointed at the 1911 charged particle blaster hanging on her hip, “You know how to use that thing?”

  “We'll be fine,” said Jack, cutting in. “How do we find this, Deep Black?”

  The man pointed at the terminal doors, “Through these doors, up two levels to transport. You have several options; trains, cabbies, and slot trams. Unless you know the city well, I wouldn't recommend the trams. You need to go to the Peninsula Sector... if you go too far you end up on the Island. Stay out of the Island.”

  “What's the Island?” asked Lisa.

  “Never you mind,” he shot back. “You stay out of that area! The Island is not a place for a girl like you.”

  “What's that supposed to mean?” said Lisa defensively.

  “People like you disappear on the Island,” growled the man, walking away. Worn and faded, the word Lawman reached across the back of his jacket, a large, equally faded, number 42 in a circle underneath it.

  ■ ■ ■

  It was almost immediate upon leaving the terminal and stepping out onto the transport level. Lisa made a face, swallowing hard, tasting the metal in her mouth and at the back of her throat. “What the hell is that? It's disgusting.”

  “Scrubbed air,” said Jack and Draza Mac almost simultaneously.

  “Either ancient equipment or the filters need a serious flush,” explained Draza Mac. “Some areas may be better than others, depends on the age and upkeep.”

  Jack motioned to one of the vehicles at the curb, the driver waving an acknowledgment. “Our ship's systems are far superior,” commented Jack.

  “It's also why ships have gardens,” added Draza Mac, “they remove that taste.”

  The side of the cab slid open wide, cutting off any further conversation on the topic. The driver motioning them in. “No bags?”

  “No bags,” confirmed Jack, climbing in. “We need to go to Deep Black in the Peninsula.”

  “I can take you most of the way,” said the driver, steering away from the terminal. The vehicle accelerated silently, floating on an anti-gravity cushion, heading for one of a series of tunnels in the far wall.

  “What do you mean, most of the way?” asked Jack leaning forward.

  “I do not go into the Peninsula that far. You can take a tram or walk the rest of the way, it won't be too far.”

  “Well if it won't be too far, why won't you take us all the way?” asked Lisa.

  “It is not a safe area...”

  “And you want us to walk?” she growled.

  “I thought it was the Island that was the dangerous area,” said Jack, cutting in.

  “Oooh, yes. The Island is bad. Very bad. But the far end of the Peninsula is not much better.” The driver swung the vehicle into another tunnel, weaving through slower traffic, rock walls passing by in a blur.

  “What makes those areas so bad?” Jack was trying to pinpoint the type of dangers involved in traversing those areas.

  “The criminals,” shrugged the driver, oblivious to the benign banality of his reply.

  “Specifically,” said Steele through clenched teeth, trying to keep the
snarl out of his voice.

  “Oh I really can't say...”

  “Can't say or won't say?” hissed Steele, his ire rising. From the back seat he wasn't able to see enough of the man's face to get a reading of deceit or avoidance.

  “I've probably said too much already...” whispered the driver, barely audible.

  Steele sat back in the seat, contemplating who might be listening in on the conversation. And when he saw Lisa lean forward he tapped her on the knee and shook his head no, sweeping his eyes around the inside of the vehicle. She nodded curtly and sat back in silence.

  Some areas of the inside of the planetoid were well lit, looking upscale and well traveled, others looked like residential areas and yet others like manufacturing and commercial areas. All-in-all, it seemed to represent a well-rounded society. They passed a well-lit and colorfully decorated bazaar, with open stores and booths on either side of the street. Crowds of people were milling about, venturing into the shops and strolling through the eateries. It was a quick glimpse but Steele's artificial eye recorded the image of two men standing on a corner talking, the word Lawman spanning the back of their jackets. One had a number 23 in the circle below it, the other had a number 54. The fact that they had the exact same build and height struck him as slightly odd. He was still reviewing that image a short time later when the vehicle pulled to the curb in a darker, less friendly looking area.

  “This is as far as I can go,” the driver said cheerfully. “If you'll scan your ITC card,” Interstellar Trade Credits, “with the reader on the back of my seat, we'll be all set.”

  “We couldn't pay you extra to take us all the way, could we?” asked Jack, holding his card up to the reader.

  “No sir. Sorry.” The driver looked back over his shoulder, a concerned look on his face, his brow furrowed. “Would you like a receipt sir?” He nodded slightly.

  Jack caught the inference. “Yes, please.”

  “Digital or written?” The driver held up a stylus to indicate what Jack should choose.

  ■ ■ ■

  Standing on the curb as the transport pulled away, Steele examined the clear rectangle of plastic film, then checked their surroundings quickly. “TESS, scan this please,” he laid the film over her screen. Lisa and Draza Mac watched the gloomy shadows uneasily. Scanning it from underneath, TESS bought up the scan on her holographic screen with a translation off to the side. The girl is not safe. Keep her close. Never alone.

  “That's all of it, TESS?”

  “That's all of it, Mr. Mercury,” TESS replied, her face appearing. “Please be careful.”

  “Did you understand his directions?”

  “Yes, Jax.” She bought up a map of the area. “I have managed to tap into the Citymap System, he was being truthful in his directions.”

  “OK, let's go. Screen off TESS, but ears open. Use my earpiece for communication.”

  “Understood. External sensors active, earpiece linked. Connecting to my TESS counterparts.”

  ■ ■ ■

  It was odd walking through what in many places looked like a normal city in most respects, if it wasn't for the fact that it was all inside the planetoid. It equated in Steele's mind to an underground city. It might as well be. No sky, few open places, traveling through tunnels cut through its core. Stores, residences and businesses nothing more than rooms carved into the rock. It was a little claustrophobic. And dark.

  It seemed the further they went, the darker it got, many of the lights broken or missing completely, with little if any traffic and fewer and fewer people. The fewer people they saw, the more Jack felt like they were being watched. “Just because you're paranoid...”

  “Doesn't mean you're not being followed.” whispered Lisa, finishing his sentence.

  The area changed from a run-down retail area with decrepit stores, litter and vacant store fronts to commercial structures. Actual building fronts. And they hadn't seen a soul in at least five minutes. It felt like they were the only three people in the area. But Jack knew better than that, his senses reaching out, the little voice in the back of his mind screaming; Danger! Danger! at the top of its proverbial lungs.

  “Wish I had my twilight vision with me,” whispered Draza Mac.

  “And a carbine... “

  “Some armor...”

  “A few grenades...”

  Steele's earpiece chirped at the same time Lisa's and Draza Mac's did, each getting separate instructions from their TESS', the units working in unison. “I'm detecting two heartbeats ahead on the right, Jax. Sixty-feet.”

  Walking to the left of her brother, Lisa fell back a step to address a shadow detected on the left side of the street. Draza Mac spun around to watch the rear, walking backwards.

  Steele slowed his pace, the little voice in his head still screaming. His hand resting on the grip of his hybrid 1911, he popped the holster's release. When the two men stepped out of a recessed business entrance just fifteen feet ahead, his firearm had already cleared the holster and he had dropped to a combat crouch. “Stop!” he commanded.

  “Easy buddy. We don't want any trouble. Just give us the girl and we'll be on our way. No need for anyone to get hurt...”

  “Step aside!” commanded Steele.

  “Buddy, you are in the wrong neighborhood to be making demands like that... look around you. Just give us the girl and you can be on your way...”

  Steele knew it was a distraction bid, so his eyes never left the two men standing nearly shoulder to shoulder, blocking the way. Weak details from distant lights highlighted their silhouettes. His sight picture was Mr. Talker's head. “Step aside...” Steele growled through clenched teeth, snapping off the safety. “I won't say it again...”

  When the headlights of the vehicle parked in the blackness between the buildings across the street, suddenly bathed the trio from the Raven in harsh light, Draza Mac screamed, “Ambush!”

  Time slowed down for Steele, as Mr. Talker lunged. He squeezed off the first shot, Mr. Talker's head disappearing from his shoulders in a crimson explosion, splashing the second man in gore. The vehicle charged out of its hiding spot to drive through and separate the group, triggering a hell storm of fire from Lisa. Shooting on the move, Steele cut the second man down with two fast shots to the body as he advanced. Massive gaping holes completely through his body that sucked his liquified organs out his back. He was dead before he hit the ground. The trio advanced over the prostrate and lifeless forms, Steele sweeping the street ahead, scanning for targets.

  His free hand on Lisa's belt, Draza Mac trotted backwards, firing at the moving shadows advancing swiftly from behind, while Lisa's rounds blew through the windshield of the vehicle as she danced sideways to keep up with her brother's strides.

  With golf ball sized holes in the windshield and hood area, the vehicle careened across the street and slammed into the building behind them, imbedding itself in the wall, temporarily cutting off the pursuers coming up from the rear. Seeing movement, Draza Mac added a couple holes in the vehicle's driver's door as he backed away, still tethered to Lisa by his grip on her gun belt.

  “Truck! TRUCK!” screamed Draza Mac, the rear ramp of the vehicle dropping to the ground, two men jumping out with long guns who swung behind the vehicle for cover, firing as they maneuvered.

  Hot magenta streaks of energy sizzled past, splashing on the building and ricocheted across the ground. Jack spun, planted his feet and the three of them pumped a rain of fire upon the truck and its occupants, the charged particle slugs punching holes through the vehicle like paper. A deafening, eyeball-searing fireball lifted the vehicle off the street, parts skittering across the ground, off buildings and the stone ceiling, the blast knocking them all flat on their backs. The heat took their breath away as it sucked in all the surrounding oxygen.

  Laying on the ground panting, Steele struggled to get up, “We gotta go...” he wheezed.

  “Can't breathe,” gasped Lisa.

  “Get up, get up...” Steele dragged himsel
f to his feet, gun still in hand, pulling his sister up with his free hand. “Draza..?”

  “I'm coming, boss...” The Marine forced himself onto his feet and immediately swung his pistol into action, scanning their surroundings. “Reload!” he called, seeing a respite long enough to do a tactical mag change. He captured the partial mag as he swiftly tapped the fresh one in place.

  Sirens wailed somewhere, echoing through the tunnels and hollows of the planetoid. An automatic fire system somewhere on the ceiling started spraying fire-fighting foam on the burning wreckage.

  Steele's headset chirped, “Lawmen are coming, Jax.”

  “I know TESS. How far to Deep Black...”

  “Very close, at the end of this street. Six-hundred feet.”

  “Let's move...” Steele completed his own reload on the move, followed by Lisa whose slide was locked back on an empty chamber. Hustling into a stiff breeze generated by the air supply system trying to supply oxygen to the starved area, breathing became easier. Twice they had to conceal themselves in the shadows as emergency vehicles flashed past on the street. “Where were they a few minutes ago?” whispered Draza Mac.

  “There's never a cop around when you need one,” replied Jack sarcastically.

  “A cop?”

  “Slang for a policeman.”

  “Uh-huh,” nodded the Marine. “You can explain that one to me later.”

  ■ ■ ■

  When the door to Deep Black Supply split down the middle, opening into the wall on either side, Jack wasn't sure what to expect. But this wasn't it. He stepped back a moment to look up at the sign, confirming they were in the right place. One half of the sign was lit, the other half flickered and hummed. The office looked like a warehouse had regurgitated; boxes, cartons, crates and equipment stacked everywhere, disorganized abstract columns reaching toward the stone ceiling.

  The woman behind the counter had her back to the door, rummaging through the clutter on her desk, “Crap on a cracker,” she muttered. 'Where in hellion did I put it?” Petite, no more than five feet tall, she had a shock of short platinum-blond hair that from the back made her thin five-foot frame resemble a Q-Tip. She looked up towards the open doors to the warehouse. “Mouse!” she shouted, “Did I leave my puff out there?”