Hybrid Saga 01 - Hybrid

by S M Briscoe

  Kern watched her disappear through the entry hatch and looked at Elora, who gave him a sympathetic shrug. “We wouldn’t want to do that now would we.”

  Jarred approached them both and Kern could see behind him that the second TrySec had joined his counterpart, unconscious on the deck.

  “Good work,” Jarred commented, letting his gaze move over to Elora. “Both of you.” He kept his eyes on hers for a long moment before continuing. “Now, how about we get out of here?”

  Kern couldn’t have agreed more and as he turned to follow the two of them up the ramp, he reminded himself to add docking ports to the list of places he hated most.

  Chapter 17

  Trycon’s normally bustling, multiple leveled skylanes were eerily void of traffic as the newly christened Fancy Girl hovered out of its docking port berth and into the seemingly calm night. The city wide air space grounding had left the skyway clear of its usual steady, and frequently jammed, streams of freighters and personal transports. Looking down into the nearly empty streets and walkways below through the front viewport, Jarred guessed that a ground curfew had also been put into affect. Trycon was being locked up tight.

  It would serve as both a blessing and a curse. Without the heavy traffic congestion they would be free to make a hasty, unobstructed ascent through and out of the city. The flip side was that, with such open skies, they would have little to no cover and be far easier to spot and pursue. They wouldn’t be making much of an escape with a Sect assault force and Trycon’s local authorities right behind them.

  The ship jerked hard to port and Kern let out a curse in Jarred’s ear as he was forced to evade a bulky freighter attempting to shoot past them. A number of other transports followed, all accelerating out into the open skylanes. Apparently, they weren’t the only ones docked at port two-one-seven with something to hide. Jarred smirked at the thought. It wasn’t exactly rush hour traffic, but any extra vessels to tie up their pursuers couldn’t hurt.

  Kern began to put the ship into an ascent and Jarred waved him off. “Don’t climb yet.”

  “Why not?” Kern asked, keeping his focus on the sky ahead of him. “We’ve got nothing but open air ahead of us. Let’s burn out of here.”

  “Because there’s nothing but open air,” Sierra answered, from the upper control seat opposite Jarred’s.

  Kern shook his head. “You’ve lost me.”

  “That’s no surprise,” Sierra shot back at him, dryly. “We’re the only things flying around out here that aren’t Sect military or TrySec.”

  “Exactly,” Kern exclaimed. “And I’d like to be out of here when they start showing up.”

  Sierra continued. “The point is, if you send us rocketing up into the wide open stratosphere we’re going to stand out like a homing beacon for everyone to follow.”

  Kern fell silent for a moment. “Great. So, what are we supposed to do? Just hover around here until they find us? I’d rather make a run for it now and take my chances.”

  “Don’t worry,” Jarred reassured him, glancing down at his control console’s sensor display, which indicated multiple approaching vessels. “You’ll have the opportunity to do that soon enough.”

  Kern must have checked his own hud as well as he let out another curse. “We’re vaped.”

  “Maybe,” Jarred conceded. “For now, let’s see if we can’t give them something else to chase, aside from us.” He pointed out the viewport towards a pair of small freighters flying in formation ahead of them. “Take us in close to those cargo runners.”

  Kern just gave a resigned shrug as he began to alter course. “Why not.”

  “Relax, Kern,” Sierra said, also peering out the viewport. “I think I know what he’s planning.”

  “Terrific,” Kern exclaimed, almost laughing. “As long as the two of you know.”

  No sooner had Kern brought them into a position under the pair of runners than they both began to veer off and accelerate, obviously having noted the approaching mass of vessels on their own instruments.

  “Stay with them,” Jarred said, keeping an eye on his sensor hud. Punching commands into his console, he designated the multiple incoming blips in red, their own and the other escaping craft in blue. Quickly, he began to see groups of red blips veering off towards the few individual blues. Another mass of reds was headed for them. “Here comes the cavalry.”

  The cargo runners accelerated into evasive maneuvers, Kern matching their speed and heading, pressing everyone hard into their seats and sending them rocketing down into Trycon’s maze of towering skyscrapers.

  The runner class freighters, nicknamed for their compact agility, were ideal transports for smugglers looking to move illegal cargo shipments quickly and safely. What they lacked in hull strength and shielding, they made up for in speed an maneuverability, allowing for a quick get away when trouble arrived. So, it was no small feat that Kern was keeping up to the duo as they wove their way through the spire like buildings, matching their movements as if he were a wing mate. Jarred was impressed.

  The half dozen Sect assault craft and TrySec patrollers on their tails, the latter with emergency beacons flashing, were struggling to stay on them, though they could only keep running for so long.

  “Any bright ideas?” Kern asked, as he sent them corkscrewing around another tower, still glued to the dual runners. “I can’t keep this up all day.”

  “Hopefully, you won’t have to,” Jarred answered. “Just stay with them a little longer.”

  “Easy for you to say!” Kern shouted back over the roar of the engines as he punched the throttle hard coming out of a sharp turn. “Why don’t you help me out and bring your weapons systems online already. Don’t get me wrong. I love a good chase, but everyone has their limits.”

  Hesitating a moment, Jarred responded. “That’s going to be a bit of a problem.”

  “What do you mean?” Kern asked.

  Sierra turned to look at him, suspiciously. “What kind of problem?”

  “I can’t deactivate the lockouts.”

  Kern actually glanced back over his shoulder as he and Sierra spoke in unison. “Why not?”

  Jarred cringed. “Because it’s not my ship.”

  “Not your ship?” Kern echoed, incredulously. “Then who’s is it?”

  Sierra began to shake her head at him and he guessed that she had suspected as much from the beginning.

  “Who did you steal it from?” she asked.

  “What does it matter?” Jarred answered, evading the question. They had enough to worry about right now without him adding to it by disclosing that the ship they were attempting to escape on was previously owned by one of the most notorious criminal kingpins in the system, and one who would most certainly be looking for it. That was his problem to deal with, and he would deal with it, once all of this was over and he could get back to tracking down Mac. “My ship was damaged. I needed another one. It was there.”

  Sierra nodded in mock understanding. “So, you’re a bounty hunter and a thief.”

  “Well, this is just perfect!” Kern exclaimed. “What happens when they start shooting at us?”

  Jarred shook his head. “They won’t.”

  “What makes you so sure?” This was from Sierra, who was still glaring at him.

  “Yeah,” Kern seconded. “What makes you so sure?”

  “Because they haven’t started yet,” Jarred answered. “Durak hasn’t gone to all this trouble for nothing.” He gestured with a thumb back to where both Orna and Elora were sitting at the rear of the flight deck. “We might all be expendable, but he wants your friend alive, and he isn’t going to risk shooting anyone down if there’s a chance she might be onboard. That’s the only reason we’re not already dead.”

  “Well, that’s comforting,” Kern grunted, putting the ship into another steep dive, bringing them dangerously close to ground level.

  The ship was rocked suddenly as if struck by something and Jarred’s first thought was that Kern had act
ually bottomed out and collided with something on the ground. A quick inspection of his control readouts told him different.

  “They’ve opened fire!” Sierra declared, monitoring her own display.

  “So much for your theory,” Kern mocked, though Jarred detected the nervous edge in his voice.

  “We’re still alive, aren’t we,” he retorted.

  The ship was rocked again and Jarred checked their damage report. “Hull integrity is good. They’re using low power blasts. Targeting the engines.” He could see ahead that the two cargo runners were also taking the light hits.

  Sierra looked over at him from her seat. “You’re right. They’re trying to force us to land.”

  “Not a chance,” Kern stated, flatly. “I’m taking us back up. I say we shoot for the sky and take our chances.”

  “Without shields, a few more of these hits and we won’t be going anywhere,” Jarred argued.

  “Do you have a better idea?” Kern asked.

  Jarred’s eyes locked on to something up ahead in the distance and he quickly glanced back down at his sensor display, checking their pursuer’s current proximity. “I do,” he answered, pointing out the front viewport. “See that tram tunnel straight ahead?”

  After a quick scan, Kern called back. “Yeah, I see it.”

  “When we get close, break off hard from the runners and take us inside.”

  “It’ll be tight,” Kern answered, seeming to have caught on to his plan.

  “No doubt,” Jarred replied, as they rapidly approached the tunnel entrance. He pulled up the ship systems he would need to access in only moments, if the maneuver worked. “Once we’re in, cut the thrusters.”

  Kern didn’t answer, looking completely focused on his task. Jarred began to feel a bit nervous as they were nearly on top of the tunnel entrance and they hadn’t begun to reduce their speed. He was about to speak when Kern suddenly reversed the thrusters, nearly tearing everyone from their seat restraints, leaving the ship to hover, momentarily in mid air, before dropping them straight down into the mouth of the tunnel.

  Not bothering to catch the breath knocked from his chest, Jarred immediately shut down the engines, along with all unnecessary environmental systems, including internal and outboard lighting, which left the flight deck in darkness. Hopefully, their close proximity to the cargo runners would have resulted in them registering as only a single blip on a sensor readout. If so, the sudden break from the pair, along with the near complete power shutdown of all ship systems, would allow them to go unnoticed by their pursuers, who would pass right over. It wouldn’t take long for them to catch on to their disappearance, but by then they would be long gone.

  As everyone gazed up through the top of the front viewport in silence, the group of patrol and assault craft finally shot past. The entire flight deck seemed to breath out at once.

  Jarred pulled the viewscreen settings up on his control console, switching the viewport filter to infrared. It would allow them to see the dark tunnel ahead without flooding it with the ship’s outboard lights and possibly giving their position away.

  “Take us in,” he directed Kern. “Repulser power only to keep our energy signature low.”

  “Any idea where we’re going?” Kern asked, pointing their nose down into the tunnel and engaging the rear repulsers to send them moving forward.

  Jarred was already bringing the city grid layout up in front of him. Locating their current position, he traced the tram tunnel’s path. “Stay on this main artery. It takes us clear across the city before opening up again. The lockdown would have included the tram systems, so we shouldn’t run into anything.”

  “Here’s for hoping,” Kern replied, sounding less than convinced. After the day they’d had, Jarred could sympathize with him.

  * * *

  It took nearly an hour to cross the hundred kilometer long segment of subterranean tunnel at repulser speed, the time passing in almost utter silence. Jarred had closely monitored the sensor display during that time, picking up the occasional blip of a passing vessel as they covered the distance, the tension on the flight deck rising with each occurrence. But each time, the blips had continued on until disappearing out of range, their presence in the passage having gone undetected.

  The sensors weren’t reading anything in their vicinity as they finally approached the tunnel opening. The coast appeared to be clear. Not wasting any time, Jarred brought all systems back online, allowing Kern to engage the thrusters and send them rocketing out of the tunnel, accelerating up and away from Trycon. A quick sweep with the sensors showed him that no one was following. He maintained a close watch for another five minutes before feeling certain that no one would be.

  “I think we’re clear,” he said finally. “Anyone have any ideas on where to go from here?”

  “I hear Raxis is nice this time of year,” Kern suggested. “Warm weather, sandy beaches.”

  “I was thinking somewhere a little more local,” Jarred replied, running a systems diagnostic. “We have a couple of good sized hull breaches. Even if we didn’t lose cabin pressure once we entered vacuum, which we would, the drive unit took a bit of beating back there. We’ll be a dead fish in water if we don’t see about some repairs soon.”

  “There aren’t many spaceports on Solta outside of Trycon’s limits,” Sierra spoke up, “and Durak will be watching all of them.”

  “Well, we’re going to have to put down somewhere,” Jarred concluded.

  “I know of a place.” Orna’s gentle voice came from the rear of the flight deck, catching everyone’s attention. “It is well hidden and your ship can be repaired there. We would be safe from those who search for us.”

  Jarred raised a brow at Sierra, who shrugged in return. How would Orna know of a safe harbor that any of them didn’t, on this world or any other? The revelation didn’t totally surprise him, as he was beginning to grow accustomed to her frequent unexpected insights.

  “Sounds good to me,” Kern blurted. “Where am I going?”

  “South,” Orna answered. “Into the mountains.”

  * * *

  Shu’ma was . . . displeased.

  It wasn’t necessary for Rho’uk to look at him to see this. His mouth would be curled into a teeth baring snarl and eyes ablaze with fury, burning holes into whatever they glared upon. His posture would be rigid, every muscle tensed, like a predator preparing to strike at its prey. Standing next to his commander and long time comrade, he knew these things without having to glance over his shoulder to see them. At this moment, it was enough to see the fear reflected in the faces of the security team that were the current subjects of that displeasure.

  Durak’s expression had remained unchanged since arriving at the docking port, his own face locked in a permanent grimace, conveying his own barely contained rage. He resented their presence here and made no attempts to hide his feelings on the matter. Charged with directing the Sect’s colossal military engine, the High Commander would not be accustomed to this sort of oversight, or having his powers usurped by another. His apparent inability to capture their quarry was visibly and understandably frustrating him, but having to bare Shu’ma’s public scoldings for that shortcoming appeared to be testing the limits of his restraint.

  Rho’uk knew as well, that Shu’ma’s displeasure was also directed at him. For his failure. His warriors were slain and he had been bested by, what the majority of his people considered to be, a lesser being. As a race told to have been created in the image of a War God, they arrogantly believed this to be true of all other beings. He dismissed that petty, self indulgence. To underestimate any opponent was a weakness. His father had taught him as much. It was that lesson, he believed, which was the reason he was standing here now. Though, death may have proven the less shameful outcome to returning as he had.

  The human he encountered had fought unlike any warrior he had ever faced in single combat, and with a skill beyond what he would have expected from a member of the species. Though Rho
’uk had not fallen, neither had he been the victor. There could be no middle ground in battle. No stalemates. A warrior defeated his enemy or was defeated by him. Anything short of that complete victory was failure. This was the Rai Chi way.

  Yet, his shame was not all consuming, though he appropriately portrayed it to be. Instead, he found himself intrigued by the recent confrontation, his mind drifting back into the battle. It wasn’t often that a warrior of his caliber was so fully challenged to the limits of his ability. The fact that his opponent had been a human only served to compound his interest. While living, his father had held a quiet respect for the species. Though they displayed many of the common traits that weakened most races, he had seen the potential for greatness in their spirit. They had the ability to inspire one another and collectively rise up to face the challenges of adversity. Rho’uk supposed this was what had allowed them to return from the brink of their own near extinction, spreading themselves across the worlds of this system and growing into what was now its most visible majority.

  The sound of Shu’ma’s hostile voice brought Rho’uk out of his thoughts as he finally began to speak.

  “Which unworthy kut’spa ranks highest amongst you?”

  The confused reactions of the security team, at which his question had been directed, was expected. Most beings would have never been face to face with a Rai Chi and few that had would have lived to speak of it. Even fewer would have ever heard their ancient dialect uttered, let alone comprehend its meaning.

  The mechanical interpreting creation, standing off to one side of and between Shu’ma and the security officers, repeated the demand in TradeSpeak, the universally spoken language of commerce in the system. It’s politely spoken interpretation would not carry the full insult that was intended, as most Rai Chi curses could not be properly translated.

  A blue skinned Rendorian stepped forward from the group of nervous security officers and began to speak an acknowledgment. In a swift motion, Shu’ma elongated the blade of the kul’ruuk gauntlet attached to his forearm and beheaded him before he could finish his sentence, receiving a collective gasp from the remaining officers as his severed head rolled across the deck at their feet.