Martian Insurrection (Mars Colony Chronicles Book 3)

by Brandon Ellis

  A forklift was on its way down.

  He gasped, pushed up, and lunged out of the way.

  The forklift landed with a loud crash, toppling to the side and smashing a crate.

  “Oh no, the Ark.” He stood and limped as fast as he could, pushing the broken wood pieces out of the way and examining the contents inside.

  “Thank the Mars gods.” No gold. No nothing. Only an empty crate.

  He surveyed the ravaged storage bay. Most crates were intact, but some were broken into a thousand fragments. The weapons rack was on the wall, and the magnetized weapons remained in place.

  His tools, his papers, and his lockers didn’t fare as well. They were on the ground. The head of a pickax was halfway through a locker, and his jackhammer was lying next to a now dented wall.

  He turned on his helmet mic. “Gragas? Jozi? Are you with me?”

  He walked to the room where he kept Indigo.

  Static filled his ears.

  He paused.

  “Gragas?”

  More static.

  Clank! Clank!

  Someone with magnetic boots was walking on the roof. Ozzy looked to the hole in the ceiling.

  Clank! Clank!

  He moved around the upended forklift and approached his weapons rack. He pulled down a rifle, sunk low, and cautiously walked and pointed the barrel at the hole.

  He leaned against the forklift, ready to blast some MMP agents off his roof if they tried to take him out or into custody.

  The clanking stopped.

  Static filled his helmet again, and he hit it. “Is that you, Jozi? I can’t hear you. Keep trying to get through to me. Someone is on my roof, so I’ll be a little busy for a while.”

  Clank!

  Ozzy narrowed his eyes, staring at the hole. The muzzle of a rifle came into view.

  “Bye, bye,” he whispered to himself. He pulled the trigger, and a photon bolt blasted through the hole and toward the twilight sky.

  A figure appeared.

  “Son of a—I missed?” Ozzy took another shot.

  The figure stepped back, avoiding the photon charge. It then dropped through the hole, falling like an Earth hawk pursuing its prey.

  Ozzy shot again.

  The figure landed and lunged for him.

  27

  Heading Toward Olympus Mons, Mars

  The figure twisted and a boot came down, smacking across Ozzy’s wrist. His rifle went flying across the room.

  Shit.

  The figure picked Ozzy off the ground and shoved him against the forklift.

  Ozzy put his hands up. “Whoa, whoa. I have money. Plenty of—” He cut himself off, lowering his arms. “Gragas?”

  Gragas tapped his helmet, indicating his mic wasn’t working. Ozzy turned up his auditory sensors, which detected outside sounds more clearly.

  “Can you hear me?” Gragas asked.

  “I can now.” Ozzy turned, glancing up at the hole. “Where’s Jozi?” His voice shook when he asked. Of all people, Jozi deserved to live. She was a good person.

  “Don’t worry. Jozi is outside watching Quad finish his work.”

  Ozzy tilted his head. “Come again?”

  Gragas spun on his heels and walked to the ramp. He slapped the button, and the door hissed and opened, pounding against the outside sand.

  “How. . .?” The cockpit was surely smashed in, so how could the ship have any power, especially the ramp? He was positive the crash tripped every wire on the vessel.

  Ozzy stepped forward, gawking at what he saw beyond the edge of the ramp.

  Past a long, wide trail in the sand from Relic’s crash-landing were a handful of downed MMP ships. The cockpit windows were smashed and broken with gray-blue smoke trailing toward the sky.

  Jozi, her arms crossed, stood between Relic and the downed ships. Quad clomped toward her with his thick legs chomping up tendrils of the Mars dust with his every step.

  This guy would be a good asset to have around, just like Jozi and Gragas.

  That’s if Ozzy wanted anyone around other than his daughter. Not that they weren’t helpful. It was stressful worrying if he was going to lead them to their own death, which was nearly happening every day.

  “I saw you and Jozi fall off my ship,” said Ozzy.

  Gragas dipped his head. “You did.” He touched his belt, and wings expanded from his back. “Remember? I can fly.”

  “Aren’t you the hero?”

  “Just saving a friend. There isn’t anything heroic about that. I didn’t want her to die.”

  “Well, I’m glad you saved her.”

  Gragas bowed. “I’d do it for you, too.”

  “I’m going to check the cockpit. I don’t think there is much left.”

  Gragas followed Ozzy inside the storage bay and leaned up against the forklift.

  “I’ll wait here for our buddies,” Gragas said. “If we can’t get this boat up into the air, then I’ll let the Galactic Knights know. They’ll take us to your next stop.”

  “Yeah, this boat ain’t flying any time today.” With one foot on the upper deck and the other on the ladder, Ozzy said, “Call your Galactic Knights now and let them…”

  He paused and eyed the cockpit across from him.

  It wasn’t a hulk of broken glass and warped metal. It was in one piece except for a few items thrown here and there.

  He picked up some mementos he had hanging from switches and put them back in place. Other than that, nothing else was wrong.

  He walked around and accidentally kicked something that skidded along the floor. The holopad.

  “How the hell?”

  “At the last second, Relic’s nose lifted, and she bounced across the ground, sliding to a halt. Gragas and I saw it.”

  Ozzy turned around. Jozi leaned against the wall, tapping her foot.

  He wanted to rush forward and hug her. Instead, he pushed down a smile and merely gave her a nod. “I’m glad you’re alive.”

  “Constantly saving your ass is taking a toll on me, Ozzy.” She looked down. “I can’t wait to get back to Olympus Mons and take a break before I get back to clearing my name with the Ministry.” She gave him a half smile. “Shall we go?”

  A roar ripped across the sky.

  They both looked at the ceiling.

  Jozi crinkled her nose. “Can’t anyone leave us alone?”

  “Just our luck. It sounds like several ships are coming in for a landing.” He put his hands on the upper deck railings and noticed Quad and Gragas were on the ramp, peering outside. “Gragas, what do you see?”

  “Looks like Mort Wildly and a few of his ships are touching down,” Gragas said.

  “Hit the button and raise the ramp. We’re getting our asses out of here.” He rushed to his seat and laid the holopad across his lap. He readied the Relic to fly their butts out of here.

  Relic sputtered, whined, vibrated, and then turned off.

  “No, no, no,” yelled Ozzy, punching the flight console. “You start you flying bag of Mars-heap.”

  He tried again with the same results.

  Jozi sighed. She brought up a blueprint of Relic on the holoscreen. The stern boosters were red. “Those were hit by photon fire, shorting out your fuel cells. It’ll take until morning for them to refill from the solar rays.”

  Ozzy leaned back against his chair. “You gotta be kidding me. That again?” He had dealt with the same thing on an S-99 Flying Miner not too long ago.

  He let out a gush of air and flipped to rear cams. Mort’s team was touching down, causing dust clouds to spiral in the air.

  When the dust settled, Mort and several crewmen were already out of their ships and walking toward Relic, all with cannons and rifles strapped to their shoulders.

  “Here we go again,” moaned Ozzy, unholstering his sidearm.

  28

  Heading Toward Olympus Mons, Mars

  Ozzy’s com channel blared on. It was a private number.

  Ozzy glared at Wildly, wh
o was in his EVA suit and holding up a holopad. “Well, well, if it isn’t poor Ozzy. You get a little stuck there, Compadre?”

  “What do you want?”

  “You have something very precious to me. And, by now, I think you’ve probably watched it.”

  Ozzy tapped the holopad in his lap. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He touched his chest. “Do you mean me? Am I your precious?”

  Wildly’s tone turned serious. “The holopad, Ozzy. The holopad. I need it.”

  Ozzy shrugged. “Don’t know what you’re referring to.” He cocked his head to the side. “Maybe you’re referring to the holopad you’re holding right now? It’s in your hand, Wildly, so you can turn around and fly your ass home.”

  “Not funny, Ozzy. Give me my item, and I’ll make sure you’re safe when we take over the government.”

  Ozzy snorted. “You too, huh? It seems like all the crime bosses are forming a line when it comes to a Ministry coup.”

  Wildly shivered, a smile cracking his lips. “But, I, Mr. Mort Wildly, will be the one who runs Mars. Not Jonas Moon. Not Lyra No Tail. Not Pluto Beef or Shifty Eyez. Not Johnny Backwater. Not—”

  “Alright, I get your point, Wildly. I don’t care who takes over Mars.”

  Wildly momentarily looked off in the distance. “Let’s make a deal. You give me what you owe me in auric credits and the holopad, and I’ll spare you and your friends.”

  Ozzy shook his head. “How about not? I have Quad on board. You see the MMP ships behind you? He did that.”

  “Quad is there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, we’ll do this the easy way, then. I was hoping for a good, even fight.”

  Wildly motioned to a big, bulky craft behind him. The ramp opened, and a large tank with three barrels and a missile rack on top drove down the ramp.

  It reached the red sand and trudged forward, stopping next to Wildly. He tapped the tank’s armor then moved away and turned the holopad around, panning in on the tank.

  “She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” Wildly laughed.

  The missile rack moved on its turret, and the barrels adjusted, targeting Relic. They spun then extended farther.

  “Now, Ozzy, my really, really good friend. What do you say you give me what you owe me, including my holopad, and I’ll give you another day of life? Otherwise, we’ll blow your ship to…uh…what is the word? Oh, yeah. We’ll blow you, your friends, and your ship to smithereens.”

  29

  Heading Toward Olympus Mons, Mars

  “Give him his money and holopad, Ozzy,” demanded Jozi as her eyes flashed. “Our lives are more important than auric.”

  Ozzy swiped his finger across the com line, muting an impatient Wildly. He bit his lower lip, weighing his options: people or money; money or people?

  “So, what is it?” growled Jozi.

  He tapped his helmet. “I’m thinking.”

  She rolled her eyes and curled her fingers into fists.

  She had a point. Plus, she’d kick his ass if he didn’t do the right thing.

  He dug into his satchel and pulled out his auric wallet. A holographic image shot out. “Twenty two and a half million auric and some change.”

  He huffed.

  “How much do you owe him, Ozzy? And why?” Jozi raised her eyebrows and lowered her nose at him. “I want the truth. Do you have enough?”

  He pressed a button, and the holographic numbers folded up, zipping back into his auric wallet. He gave her a slow nod. “I have enough, and it’s because he loaned me some money to get Relic. It was long ago, and I haven’t done business with him since, so it may have slipped my mind.”

  In truth, Ozzy didn’t pay him back because Wildly liked to shortchange him and his archaeological buddies.

  He unmuted Wildly.

  “And your answer is?” scoffed Wildly. “Tell me now, or I’ll light your ship on fire.”

  “You know if you do, Quad will come down on you like hot lava,” Ozzy said.

  Jozi punched Ozzy in the leg.

  He flinched, his leg now throbbing. “Knock it off.”

  “Tell him that you’ll pay up.”

  Wildly panned in on the tank’s missile rack. “You should listen to your girlfriend, Ozzy.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Ozzy stood and paced. “Okay, meet me at my ramp, and I’ll transfer the money to you.”

  “You’ll also give me my holopad.”

  “Sure. Out.” He turned off the com line. “Here.” He handed Jozi the holopad.

  “You’re not going to give it to him?”

  “Not until you copy every file into Relic’s holodrive.”

  She leaned forward, pulling a cable from the console and attaching it to the device. “Linking up.”

  “Bring me the holopad when I call for it.” He exited the cockpit and slid down the ladder. Quad and Gragas were talking near the closed ramp door.

  “Open it,” ordered Ozzy.

  Gragas’s arms dangled by his sides. “I don’t know if that’s a wise idea, Ozzy.”

  “Well, Wildly is out there and he has a tank with missiles and turrets and cannons and probably carrying armor-piercing balloons for all I know. The tank will light us up if I don’t give him some money.”

  Quad stepped back, gesturing toward the ramp button “All yours.”

  Lazy bastard. Ozzy walked forward and slapped the button. Steam shot out of the door’s airtight seams.

  The craft gently vibrated when the ramp hit the ground.

  Wildly stood with his arms crossed and flanked by a dozen of his guards in EVA’s. They held bigass weapons, and all Ozzy could see was their muzzles pointed directly at him.

  “Well, nice to see that you skip out on your deals, Quad,” said Wildly. “I’ll keep that in mind when I never hire you again.”

  Quad squared his shoulders, facing Wildly. “Ozzy saved my life, and I saved his in return. Also, it wasn’t you who hired me.”

  “Perhaps, but don’t forget you were given money to do a job, okay? Some of that money was from a nice contribution of mine.”

  Quad didn’t reply.

  “Hand me your auric wallet, and I’ll transfer the money,” said Ozzy.

  “First, the holopad.”

  Ozzy shook his head. “My girlfriend is trying to locate it.” He jabbed a finger toward Relic’s cockpit. “Our crash kinda displaced it for a moment. I’m sure it’ll show up soon.”

  The guards took a step forward. Wildly lifted his hand in the air. “Stop. Not yet.” “Now,” Wildly said, “you have a choice. Give me the holopad or feel a hundred photon blasts fill your body.” He rubbed his gloved hands together. “Oh, I hope you pick the latter. Please pick the latter.”

  Ozzy peered over his shoulder. “Jozi?”

  “Yes?” she shouted from the cockpit.

  “Have you found the holopad?”

  “I’m still looking.”

  Ozzy gave Wildly a sharp look and shrugged. “You can kill me now, and I won’t send any money your way, and the holopad might get destroyed, or, you can get over your impatience and wait for a damned minute or two.”

  “Guards,” yelled Wildly. “Weapons at ready.”

  The guards stepped closer to Ozzy.

  “Ready,” ordered Wildly. “Aim.”

  Gragas brought up his rifle, and Quad stepped back. Ozzy unzipped his satchel, pulled out his auric wallet, and pressed it against his chest. “Go ahead, fire. Hopefully, you hit my auric wallet dead in its center.” He looked over his shoulder. “And, Jozi, when you find that holopad, smash it into a thousand pieces.”

  30

  Heading Toward Olympus Mons, Mars

  Wildly kept his hand up. If he dropped it and screamed “fire” it would end Ozzy’s life.

  It would finally get him off Mars. But being dead wouldn’t help get his daughter and brother off this planet.

  “Jozi,” hollered Ozzy. “You smash that holopad yet?”

  “Not yet,” she yelled b
ack.

  Shit. She was still uploading the contents into Relic’s mainframe.

  Ozzy kept his eyes on Wildly, seeing a sour expression on his face through the helmet’s radiation visor.

  “Found it,” Jozi said.

  “If you hear weapons fire, smash it,” Ozzy said. He glared into Wildly’s eyes. “Wildly, do you see Quad’s and Gragas’s rifles?” He smiled. “They are aimed at you. If you shoot, then they will shoot, and guess what? You will be dead.”

  Wildly looked at Quad and then Gragas. He chuckled. “Touché, Ozzy.” He stared at Ozzy and inhaled. “Can your girlfriend give me the holopad now?”

  Ozzy glanced around at Wildly’s men. “Nope.”

  Wildly nodded. “Fine. Everyone, lower your weapons.”

  The guards were standing down as Jozi climbed down the ladder, her boots clacking and breaking the momentary silence.

  “What are you going to do with this video? You could set up the High Judge quite easily,” Ozzy asked.

  Wildly grinned. “That’s the plan, buddy boy.”

  Jozi went to hand Wildly the holopad, but Ozzy swiped it from her. “Not yet.”

  “Dammit, Ozzy,” growled Wildly. “Give it to me now or else.”

  Ozzy shook his head. “I have everything you need and want to take over the Ministry right in my hands. You get that tank, and yourselves, back in your ship, and after you do, I will set the holopad on the sand between our vessels. That’s the deal.”

  “You little…” He stomped his foot. “Guards, move out. And, Ozzy. . .the auric you owe me. . . give it to me now, or the tank stays out here,” demanded Wildly, holding out his auric wallet. “Twelve million ninety-eight thousand.”

  Ozzy dug his hand into his satchel. “What? That’s four million more than what I really owe you.”

  “Interest got a little steep over the past year.”

  “You bastard,” Ozzy said under his breath.

  “What was that, pretty boy?”

  “I said, you’re an amazing human being, but I’m giving you what I owe, nothing more.”