by G J Ogden
“Stop!” a woman shouted, running into the center of the yard with her hands raised. “I’m the one you want. Just stop, and I’ll talk.”
Cad allowed the heavy-set man to slide off the end of his blade and collapse to the floor like a butchered carcass. He then took two measured paces toward the woman. The shooting had stopped, and in its absence, Cad could hear the wail of enforcer sirens in the distance.
“You are the leader of this renegade outfit?” Cad asked as Draga continued to advance toward her.
“I am,” the woman replied, still with her hands up. “Just stop this, and I’ll cooperate, okay?”
Cad looked past the woman, met Draga’s eyes, and nodded the command. Without uttering a word, Draga stowed her shotgun and bear-hugged the woman from behind. The remaining renegades all flinched, but none had a chance to react before Draga’s powerful thruster pack engaged. The mercenary and renegade leader rocketed into the sky, leaving a cloud of exhaust smoke in their wake.
Cad was then struck across the shoulder, but the force of the blow was feeble and ineffective. He turned to see the burly man glaring back at him, grasping the sledgehammer handle in his weaker left hand while cradling his injured right shoulder.
“If you kill her, I’ll hunt you down!” the man growled. “Do you hear me, scum! I’ll kill you!”
Cad’s eyes hardened. He had expected anger from the renegades. The humiliation of defeat was a bitter pill to swallow. However, the insult and feeble threats were a step too far. He’d offered this man his word of honor, yet he’d shown him not one ounce of respect. Cad spun on his heels and swung the Black Prince, its lethal edge cutting through the air so cleanly that the blade barely made a sound. Moments later, the stocky renegade’s head fell from his shoulders and hit the ground with a hollow thud, followed a second later by the man’s enormous frame.
Cad sheathed his sword and activated his own thrusters, soaring into the sky in pursuit of Draga and the renegade leader. The yard below him remained silent, save for the wail of sirens. Cad could see enforcer transports pulling up outside the gates. However, to anyone on the ground, Cad was already an indistinct blur in the dark sky.
11
The top of the ridge was approaching fast, and Cad could already see that Draga and the renegade leader had landed. Cad began his approach, then his watch bleeped an incoming call. Frowning, he glanced down and saw that the caller was Damien Doyle, which merely caused his frown to deepen into a scowl. Ignoring the bleeping watch for the moment, Cad cut the thrusters and descended smoothly onto the ridge, touching down barely five meters from Draga. The renegade outpost leader was on her knees at Draga’s side with the mercenary’s armored hand pressed over her mouth.
“Who is that?” Draga asked, nodding toward Cad’s still bleeping watch.
“Believe it or not, it’s Doyle,” replied Cad, causing Draga’s thin black eyebrows to raise up. “Don’t worry, I’m just as surprised as you are…” Cad said, realizing that Draga and amazement were two phenomenon that were rarely seen together. Cad pointed to the renegade and said, “Keep her there while I find out what he wants.”
Draga nodded and Cad walked a few meters away from the edge of the ridge before answering the call. Emitters in the neck of Cad’s power armor projected the image of Damien Doyle directly onto his retinas, so that the tycoon appeared to be standing on the rocky ridge in front of him.
“Did you misdial?” said Cad, the sarcasm flowing as naturally as his sword had done moments earlier.
“Very droll, Mr. Rikkard,” Damien Doyle replied, appearing as unimpressed with the remark as Cad expected him to be. The magnate was then unusually silent for a couple of seconds. If Cad hadn’t known better, he might have even said the multi-trillionaire looked embarrassed. “I know we’ve had our differences, Mr. Rikkard,” Doyle said, finally speaking up. “However, I want to offer an opportunity to mend our fractured alliance.”
Doyle had not met Cad’s eyes while saying this. The magnate’s body had become as tense and as stilted as his words. Clearly, offering a truce had not been easy, Cad realized. With Doyle on the defensive, Cad wanted to press his advantage and lay into the older man for his fumbled attempt to assassinate him. However, he was also curious to learn the reason for Doyle’s change of heart, and so held back, deciding to indulge him.
“I’m listening,” said Cad, folding his arms and resting his thumb on the bottom of his chin.
“The renegades have managed to infiltrate a highly confidential Consortium installation,” Doyle continued, looking more at ease now that Cad had retracted his claws. “It is imperative that I learn what they were looking for, and how this relates to whatever Shelby Rand is planning.”
Cad shrugged. “So use your enforcers to find out,” he replied, feeling disappointed that Doyle simply wanted him to continue the work that his own forces were too inept to manage. Then, with a darker edge, he added, “Or maybe you could hire Group-X again.” Cad waited a moment then clicked his gloved fingers, the snap of metal sounding sharp and clinical. “Oh, wait, I forgot that I already slaughtered them all, after you sent them to kill me.”
Doyle’s eyes narrowed. “Sarcasm does not become you, Mr. Rikkard,” he said, though with less bite than was usual from the man. “However, I am willing to compensate you handsomely for that rash oversight on my part.”
“A simple ‘sorry’ would be a start,” said Cad, relishing the opportunity to make the normally unflappable tycoon squirm. Doyle always went to great lengths to make people feel inferior to him, and turning the tables was worth more to Cad than money. Doyle, however, was not a man accustomed to eating humble pie and, as usual, he immediately resorted to making threats.
“You would be wise not to slap such a gracious offer out of my hand, Mr. Rikkard,” said Doyle, again allowing his disdain for Cad to show through. “The way you dealt with Group-X only highlights your suitability for this job. But be under no illusion that you are somehow irreplaceable or invulnerable. I am only using you mercenary types at all because my own enforcers would draw too much attention.”
Cad shook his head, regretting having taken the call in the first place. “You already tried to replace me, and look what that got you,” he hit back, resting his finger next to the screen of his watch, ready to cut Doyle off. “I’m not your errand boy anymore, Doyle. Find someone else.”
Cad was about to hang up when Doyle quickly added, “We have captured one of the renegades.”
Cad pulled his hand away from the watch and met Doyle’s eyes again. “Which renegade?”
Doyle hit him with a sanctimonious smile, and Cad wished he could reach into the holo image and crush the man’s skull with his bare hands.
“Dakota Wulfrun…” Doyle answered, still with the self-satisfied smile. The magnate clearly knew full-well that this name would get Cad’s attention. “I believe you know her better as the leader of the renegade Wolf Squadron,” Doyle added smoothly.
Cad tried not to react, but Doyle speaking Wulfrun’s name had grabbed his attention like a garrote to the throat, and it was clear Doyle had detected his interest.
“Fine, I’ll interrogate this renegade and find out Rand’s plan,” said Cad, swallowing his pride. Getting hold of Dakota Wulfrun was far more important to him than poking Doyle in the eye. “But I expect the expenses account to be reinstated, and the five million you offered to Group-X paid into my personal account as compensation.”
“Agreed,” said Doyle without even flinching.
Cad hated how easily Doyle threw around his money and power, and hated even more that he was once again under his employ. However, it comforted him to know that it was only a temporary arrangement. Once he had Wulfrun and Knight, he’d deal with Doyle too. Until then, he would use the multi-trillionaire’s money and intelligence network to his advantage.
“Send me the coordinates, and I’ll get under way immediately,” said Cad. Then he closed the connection, relieved to be finally rid of the sight of t
he man.
The sound of sirens continued to filter up to him from the town below, which was slowly coming back to life as emergency generators kicked in. Cad looked back to Draga Vex, standing beside the renegade leader, who was still on her knees, gagged by Draga’s armored hand.
“I take it you caught all that?” said Cad, and Draga just nodded, her eyes cold and emotionless. “It’s just temporary, Draga,” he added, sensing her displeasure, despite the only alteration to her appearance being the way in which the wind was toying with her saffron hair. “Once we’ve dealt with Wulfrun and Knight, we continue as planned and take out Doyle too.”
Draga nodded again, peering down at the renegade leader. “What about her?”
Cad looked at the woman, and her trembling, moist eyes met his in return. If Draga had overheard his call with Damien Doyle, then the renegade leader would have done so also. And that was a loose end that had to be tied up.
“Get rid of her,” said Cad, almost equaling Draga’s level of icy detachment. “We leave at once.”
Cad turned away and breathed in the cool, sweet smelling air of Carmentis, which felt even more invigorating than it had done earlier. Doyle had claimed he wasn’t invulnerable, but he’d taken the arrogant businessman’s best shot and remained standing. Yet Doyle had the nerve to threaten him again, believing he was safe in his ivory tower, surrounded by walls and guarded by his personal protection bot. In time, Cad would put that assumption to the test. However, before Doyle met his end, there was the matter of the Wolf Squadron to deal with.
Cad breathed deeply again and listened to the chaotic song of the Carmentian crickets fill the cool night air. Then the peace of the night was shattered by the screams of the renegade leader as Draga tossed her over the edge of the mountain ridge like a sack of garbage.
12
Hallam gritted his teeth and wrestled with the controls, but he was still hurtling toward the ground at a dangerous velocity. He pushed more power into the thrusters, but it was like the fighter’s controls had suddenly become ten times heavier. Alarms wailed as his rate of descent remained too high and he let out a roar, willing his body to respond. The fighter hit the ground hard, collapsing the two remaining landing struts in the process. The third had already been ripped off by the giant reptilian creature on the rogue world. Remarkably, other than a few extra dings and dents, the fighter was intact, as was he – though just barely.
“Thanks, Bob…” said Hallam, wearily patting the ragged bear on the head. He then staggered to the rear of the ship and lowered the ramp. However, after taking his first unsteady step down the ramp, his legs gave way and he tumbled the rest of the distance, eventually ending up on his back, staring up at the hazy Orcan sky. He remained there for a few moments longer, trying to regain his strength, but his head was pounding, his throat and chest felt tight, and he was utterly drained. However, it was more than just fatigue, combined with the myriad bumps, cuts and scrapes he’d received on the rogue world. He felt weak in a way he’d never experienced before. His thoughts turned to the alien probe and the radiation exposure he suffered during the failed attempt to retrieve it the key component Dr. Rand needed. However, he had no time to worry about that now. Dakota was still out there, and she needed his help.
Hallam pushed himself off the cool grass and staggered away from the ship, resting on a smooth, egg-shaped boulder. A crew from the renegade outpost was already surrounding his fighter, hosing down the engines and generally making sure that the machine wasn’t about to blow up. Now that he saw the fighter clearly under the light of a planet that wasn’t a hellscape of storms and lightning, he realized he was lucky to have made it to Orcus at all. There were claw marks across the rear ramp and sections of the fuselage, and in general, it looked like it had been dredged up from the bottom of a stagnant lake. Hallam then inspected his own armored flight suit, caked in a foul-smelling, grey-green mud, and realized he looked – and smelled – just as bad.
The renegade outpost on Orcus doubled as a waste disposal and processing center for the planet’s many chemical plants and pharmaceuticals industries. As such, it was situated far away from any major population center, and was typically avoided like the plague by most sensible residents of the planet. Dr. Rand had managed to acquire the business many years earlier and steadily replace the workforce with renegade sympathizers. This made it one of the few safe havens outside of the bases on the rogue moons.
One of the renegade crew approached Hallam, but he politely waved off the man’s offer of assistance. Then a rumble filled the sky and Hallam looked up to see another renegade fighter rapidly descending toward the outpost’s landing pad. Hallam managed a weak laugh as he saw the emblem painted on the side of the ship. It was that of a hand, giving the middle finger. Ruby Rivas then practically leapt out of the cockpit before the engines had even fully spun down. She slid down the fuselage and onto the tarmac with the acrobatic skill of a freerunner. Hallam attempted to let out an impressed whistle, but all that came out of his mouth was a dry croak. The second member of the Woolf Squadron then raced over to Hallam and dropped down by his side. She was staring at him with a mixture of anticipation, fear, and revulsion.
“What the hell happened to you?” Ruby began, blurting the words out. “And where’s Dakota? Is she all right?” Ruby sniffed the air and scrunched up her nose. “And why the hell do you stink so bad?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I just got done fighting a squad of elite enforcers and six-foot killer reptiles on the swamp planet from hell,” Hallam hit back, struggling to sit more upright. “I didn’t have time to shower…”
One of the renegades from the plant ran over to Ruby, and she turned her attention to the man. “Refuel my ship and have the crashed fighter towed out of sight,” said Ruby, sounding for once like an adult instead of an annoying teen. “The CSF may be on the lookout for it, and it could give away the location of this outpost.” The man nodded then scrunched up his nose, sniffing the air, before his eyes fell on Hallam.
“I’ve been fighting monsters in the mud, okay?” Hallam snapped. The renegade recoiled and backed away, but Hallam called for him to stop. “Hey, I need you to do something for me,” he said to the renegade, waving him over. The man approached, still scrunching up his nose, and Hallam grabbed him, pulling him close and whispering into his ear. The man recoiled, nose wrinkled as if Hallam had broken wind, then quickly departed.
“What was that about?” asked Ruby, arms folded.
“It’s not important right now,” said Hallam before changing the subject. “Look, the short version of what happened is that me and Dakota got separated,” Hallam continued, his voice sounding increasingly thin and strained. “She got captured. I fought to get her back, but there was no way through, not on my own. The enforcers in that complex were too tough.”
“Is she still there, at Doyle’s complex?” asked Ruby, wound up like a spring.
Hallam shrugged. “It’s possible they’ve already moved her, but my guess is they won’t have had time yet.”
“Then we have to go, right now,” said Ruby standing up and waving for Hallam to follow.
Hallam nodded and got to his feet, but he’d barely made it three paces before weakness forced him down to one knee.
“Hey, are you hurt?” said Ruby, stopping and turning back, once she realized Hallam wasn’t with her.
“Honestly, Ruby, I don’t know,” Hallam admitted. “I got hit with a heavy dose of Randenite radiation in that complex. Way more than the ten seconds the doc suggested.”
“So you got the gizmo thing that Dr. Rand wanted?” asked Ruby hopefully.
Hallam shook his head. The memory of losing the device was still raw. “I had the damn thing in my hand,” said Hallam, holding his hands in front of his face and staring at them in frustration. “Then I got jumped by an enforcer before I could bag it. When we go back, maybe there’s a way to retrieve the component too.”
Ruby shook her head. “I knew I should never have agreed
to let you two do this alone,” she snapped. However, Hallam was surprised to realize that she wasn’t admonishing him. Ruby’s anger was directed at herself.
“It’s no one’s fault, Ruby,” said Hallam, though if he was being honest, he couldn’t shake his guilt for having left without Dakota. “We were so close to pulling it off. But now we at least get to do it your way.”
“What way is that?” said Ruby, scowling.
Hallam pushed himself up and began gingerly walking toward the landing pad. “The way that involves blowing stuff up,” said Hallam, though he wasn’t smiling. He was deadly serious, and for once, Ruby didn’t respond with a quip or snide remark. She looked just as determined as Hallam did.
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” asked Ruby. “You don’t exactly look one hundred percent.”
Hallam waved her off. “I’m going back to that hell planet if it kills me,” he said, though he hadn’t intended the statement to be taken literally. “And I’ll be ready to fight once we arrive, so don’t worry about me,” he added, quickening his pace. Breathing the Orcan air had already started to invigorate him.
“I’ll dig out some meds and a stim pack to get you back on your feet again,” Ruby called back to Hallam as she jogged toward her fighter.
“Great…” Hallam muttered under his breath. “A stim hangover is just what I need on top of feeling like I do now…”
Hallam ambled over to Ruby’s fighter, generating dismayed looks and scrunched up noses from the various renegades who passed him en route. By the time he reached the ship, it was fueled and ready for launch. Ruby bounded out of the now lowered rear ramp of the ship and ran up to Hallam with a med-kit.
“These should sort you out, at least until Dr. Rand can give you a full physical back at the base,” said Ruby, shoving a sequence of injectors into Hallam’s neck. Hallam winced as each different batch of chemicals was pushed into his blood stream. Once Ruby was done, Hallam felt like he’d just been the main course at a vampire banquet. However, the cumulative effect of the drugs was already having a dramatic effect, and he immediately felt vitality returning to his body.