Tempest: Book Two of the Terran Cycle

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Tempest: Book Two of the Terran Cycle Page 40

by Philip C. Quaintrell


  Roland rushed over to the monitor, aware of Kubrackk’s Novaarian senses. It wouldn’t be hard for the bounty hunter to track his scent. He fumbled for a moment with the data-stick The Laronian had given him, its tiny mechanisms proving tricky for his rough hands. After slotting it into the port the monitor consumed the stick, where Roland had been assured it would do everything for him.

  “You know if this works out, The Laronian might forget the money you owe him.” Roland wiped the sweat from his head.

  “Just promise me we’ll never have to work with that crazy, blue-scaled fuck ever again.” Ch’len sounded almost as exhausted as Roland.

  “Are you kidding me,” Roland continued. “Now we know his little secret I’m gonna bend his ass over a barrel! We’re gonna get the highest paid gigs with the lowest amount of risk.”

  Ch’len chuckled at the thought before he gasped, “Take cover!”

  The door on the other side of the corridor blew open, followed by a dozen heavy boots storming the room. Roland dived behind the monitor as Intrinium bolts landed all around him, gutting the terminal and busting one of the monitors.

  “Cease fire!” the lead Shay ordered. “Don’t hit the servers.”

  That was all Roland needed to hear. The bounty hunter pushed off the broken monitor and slid between the servers, firing blind in their direction. He heard them scatter with his shots going wild. Roland didn’t care; he picked himself up and made his way further into the maze of servers, using them as protection.

  “Spread out.” The order carried over the hum of the servers.

  Roland heard multiple sparks of electricity come to life at the front of the field. He reasoned they had switched to some sort of stun baton, in hopes of bringing him down in combat. The bounty hunter leaned against one of the servers and checked the ammunition level on the side of his Tri-roller. Almost two of the three barrels were depleted, leaving him with just over a hundred shots. Considering his preferred choice of fighting, Roland decided to change the magazines and replace them with fresh ones. Three hundred shots per gun was excessive, but what was the point of being alive if he couldn’t be a little excessive every now and then?

  Being as quiet as he could with all his injuries, Roland stole a glance between the servers and glimpsed one of the Shay guards. The alien was approaching slowly, being cautious to check every row with his shock baton raised high.

  Roland ducked back in and steadied his breath. Chances were high that the rest of the team were doing the same in a line, moving their way through the field. Pivot and shoot; that was the plan. Kill one and scatter the rest, creating confusion and dissolving their search pattern. He took another breath and squeezed the gun in his hand.

  The Shay screamed out in pain and Intrinium fire erupted across the field of servers. Roland braced himself against the hot metal of the server, unsure what was happening. More screams and cries of pain resounded throughout the room, with explosions breaking their pleas for life. Smoke rose from the broken servers, sending sparks arcing into the air and raining over Roland. He strained to listen and figure out where the running footfalls were coming from between the gunfire. A thundering guttural roar reverberated across the field of servers.

  The predator had found its prey.

  Looming stalactites pointed down at Li’ara from the capital planet’s real earth. They glistened and glittered with sparkles, as if the cube sat under the very stars. She continued her stride across the platform, trying to ignore the pain in her calf, only slowing when she looked down at the tanks of liquid nitrogen that surrounded the cube and the shaft of cables and wires in the centre. The sound of her feet on the walkway echoed inside the cavern, giving Li’ara the feeling of being alone in such a large place.

  But she was not alone.

  Seeing the new cube, apparently lifeless in front of her, was chilling. It was identical to the other two, only with a polished gleam and an air of sterility to it. This cube hadn’t been buried in the ground for a long time, but had in fact been cleaned rigorously. Its golden sheen called out to a very human aspect of Li’ara, a characteristic that made so many people feel the need to touch. Kalian’s words of warning about touching them rang clear in her mind. It wanted to be touched, to make contact and force her into submission.

  The unusual stand in front of the cube tore her eyes away. It looked to her to be the ideal place to put one’s arm. Li’ara took a step back, seeing the hole in the side of the cube, opposite the stand. The weight of the bomb on her back pulled at her attention. She needed to find somewhere to put it, somewhere that would cause the most damage and destroy the cube for good. Li’ara was hesitant to place it anywhere near the cube. She remembered the nuclear device that had been rendered inert by the nanocelium onboard the eclipse-missile months earlier.

  The shaft that ran down the centre of the cavern, beneath the cube and between the tanks of liquid nitrogen, looked to be the best place. It was filled with thick cables and tubes that ran up into the cube itself. Seeing that she would have to climb down, Li’ara injected her bad calf with stimulants and painkillers. Now wasn’t the time to be labouring under pain.

  Once over the railing, Li’ara used the many cables to slide down, being careful not to get tangled up in the finer wires. When she was close enough, she dropped to the floor and slung her bag off her back. The cables created a very claustrophobic environment in which to prime a bomb. Li’ara wiped the sweat from her brow and took a calming breath. She had to give herself enough time to climb up and get clear; if she could close the vault door behind her then the explosion would be contained to the cavern, ensuring the cube’s destruction. Taking that into account, and not being a hundred percent sure on how to close the door, Li’ara primed the bomb with fifteen minutes on the clock.

  The climb back up to the walkway was harder than sliding down, though thankfully her leg gave her no trouble. Li’ara didn’t stop to catch her breath with the timer counting down under her feet. She looked at the cube one last time with doubts about the bomb’s payload. This would all be a waste if they destroyed everything but the cube. With time against her, Li’ara unstrapped every grenade and mine attached to her body. She tucked them all inside her bag and threw it on top of the cube. It was all she had.

  The vault door closed behind Li’ara, locking her in.

  She spun to face it, dread filling her every bone as a pit formed in her gut. The dozen locks fell back into place inside the wall, sealing her fate. Li’ara instinctively ran at the door and pounded against its unyielding bulk. It was futile, but her fear didn’t care for logic.

  “No!” She kicked it and screamed in frustration. There was no internal panel or release button. There was no way out.

  The cube was silent as ever, mocking her ridiculous efforts to escape the death she had caused herself. If it weren’t for the fear of dying under its control, Li’ara would have marched over and beaten the cube with her Terran blade.

  The climb back down the shaft was much quicker the second time, with little care taken for her injuries. Li’ara activated the menu and searched as calmly as she could for the deactivation control. There wasn’t one. She thumbed the on/off switch rapidly, her frustration growing with the lack of response.

  “You sack of shit!” she cursed The Laronian.

  Li’ara climbed back out of the shaft, but the cavern gave her no hope, either. There was only one way in and one way out of the chamber. With frantic fervour, she darted from one side of the walkway to the other, searching for a ventilation-hatch or anything big enough to fit through. She dropped to her knees, leaning on the railing, as realisation settled in.

  This is where she would die...

  Roland dashed between the servers, his Tri-roller in hand. Sporadic fire continued to interrupt his thoughts, along with random servers being blown to hell amidst the fire-fight. Kubrackk’s snarl broke through the weapons fire, informing Roland of his proximity.

  “I’m coming for you, North!” the Novaarian b
ellowed.

  Light steps flitted past Roland. He swivelled round the server and saw the bulbous ends of a Trillik’s twin-tail whip round the corner. The sound of a blade being wrenched from armour and guts could be heard a few rows away. The Trillik used the diversion to his advantage and caught Roland unawares. A strong green leg pushed the air from his lungs, forcing him into the gap between servers. Without looking, Roland fired both his Tri-rollers in the Trillik’s direction. He didn’t see where the shots went but he heard the server behind the Trillik take most of the damage.

  “Sneaky bastard.” Roland kept a Tri-roller in one hand and replaced the other with his Terran blade.

  Streaking shots of Intrinium flew overhead, putting charred holes into the ceiling. It wasn’t long before the dying twisted screams of a Shay followed. Kubrackk was cutting a bloody swathe through the server field.

  A barrage of green Intrinium fire exploded around Roland, causing him to duck and roll out of the way. He continued to run between the servers, ducking and weaving the constant green fire that followed him. Trilliks’ agility made the Novaarians look like clumsy animals. Roland looked back in hopes of lining up a shot, only to see the green-skinned alien skipping between the rows of servers, literally jumping off them to gain on him. There would be no lining up that shot.

  Roland changed his tactics and whirled on the Trillik, while pulling the grenade launcher off his back. There was no way he was going to use it, the explosion at this range would certainly kill him, but the Trillik didn’t know that. Roland was relying on his psychotic reputation to convince the Trillik.

  The constant firing stopped abruptly when the Trillik caught sight of the launcher accompanied by Roland’s suicidal grin. The moment the green-skinned alien dived out of sight, Roland dropped the launcher and dashed behind the nearest server. He realised that the firing in the distance had also stopped; Kubrackk had finally killed them all or died trying. There was no sound but the ceaseless hum of the servers.

  The Callic-diamond armour creaked and his clothes rustled as he slowly made his way round the servers. Roland looked left and right down every row with his Tri-roller crossed over his blade, aimed high. Sweat dripped off the end of his nose.

  A silhouette swept into his peripheral vision moments before a curved blade slashed at his face. The tip cut his cheek and Roland gave into his muscle memory and evaded the next swipe. The Trillik pressed the attack with a knife in each hand, the blades moving so quickly that Roland could only see the light reflecting off them. The Trillik’s twin-tail moved as if it had a mind of its own, lancing at Roland’s gun hand and pinning it between the two ends. A quick flick knocked the weapon to the floor.

  Without the gun, Roland’s state of mind flipped into combat mode. The Terran blade deflected the curved knife and opened up a big enough gap for Roland to kick the Trillik away. The alien hissed as it collided with the corner of a server and dropped one of his knives. Roland could finally stop for a second and assess his opponent; the Trillik had taken some serious hits getting this far into Protocorps. One of his four eyes had been severely burnt with pus oozing around the edges. His ridiculous excuse for a combat suit was in tatters from close encounters with Intrinium fire. The lime-green flesh visible through the scorched torn clothing was marred with cuts and bruises. Kubrackk had put this guy through it, and for what, the Novaarian’s revenge? Roland almost felt sorry for the green shit.

  Almost...

  The two clashed into one another with enough force to spin them, knocking them to the ground in tangle of limbs. The Trillik clambered on top of Roland, with his curved blade angled to plunge into the bounty hunter’s heart. He continued to lie there, feigning defeat, when the Trillik drove the knife down into the stubborn Callic-diamond chest plate. Roland didn’t even feel a thing, unlike the Trillik. The blade snapped and rebounded into the alien’s hand, drawing more blood and a sharp yelp of pain.

  “Get! Off!” Roland jammed his Terran blade into the Trillik’s thigh and punched him in the jaw.

  The bounty hunter got up and followed the reeling alien. Roland pressed his boot onto the Trillik’s chest and yanked the knife out of his leg, spraying blood across the servers. The Trillik screamed and whipped his tail round Roland’s wrist, pulling the bounty hunter into a green bony fist and sending him flying across the floor. The alien grunted with anger and pain as he limped to stand over Roland.

  “All this... for you.” The Trillik aimed a small handgun at Roland’s head, previously concealed behind his back.

  Roland’s hand instinctively went for the remaining Tri-roller on his thigh, his eyes fixed on the end of the barrel staring him in the face.

  A blinding flash of light blew the Trillik’s head off his shoulders.

  Roland tensed at the sound of the Quad-roller, its high powered Intrinium round ending the Trillik and showering the bounty hunter in blood. The headless body flopped to the floor, the twin-tail writhing with muscle spasms. Roland blinked hard to remove the rainbow of spots in his vision while spitting alien blood out of his mouth.

  Slow, heavy footfalls approached from behind, beyond Roland’s head. He felt vulnerable on his back with the Trillik’s body slumped over his feet. The Novaarian chuckled as his scarred features came into view, upside down to Roland, with his Quad-roller hefted in both of his upper hands.

  “Well shit...” Roland sighed, exhausted at the mere thought of fighting a Novaarian. Hand-to-hand combat with a taller, agile, four-armed alien was damn hard on a good day, and today was not a good day.

  Kubrackk walked round his prone form, revealing his own bloody appearance. The Novaarian was covered from head to toe in blood, accentuating the scar across his face. The translucent tendrils fell haphazardly over his shoulders and back, each dripping with blood. It was easy to see some of the new scars the Novaarian had picked up on his way through Protocorps. Gashes and cuts marred the exposed skin over his arms and legs with a few burns thrown in to boot. Roland detected a slight limp in Kubrackk’s left leg where a strand of tendon was exposed over the thigh muscle.

  “You didn’t think I’d let someone else kill you, did you?” Kubrackk stood at Roland’s feet, smirking at his downed prey. One of his bottom fangs had been broken in half, leaving a jagged tooth in its place.

  “You should have stayed down, asshole.” Roland feigned more injury and pain while he slowly manoeuvred his legs from under the Trillik.

  “Death will claim you long before it seeks me out.” Kubrackk holstered his gun and delicately removed a long blade from his hip.

  Roland needed him closer if he was going to get out of this. He couldn’t reach for his Tri-roller before the Novaarian pounced, and even a quick draw would result in the blade ending his life. He needed Kubrackk to attack him to inflict pain, not death. The odds would shift once Roland was on his feet again; even if he was in the grip of four strong arms, he would still stand a better chance.

  “Maybe you should have taken a leaf out of your brother’s book,” Roland goaded. “That dumb-fuck knew when to shut up and die.”

  Kubrackk’s snarl turned into a roar as he dropped the blade and leaped at Roland. The Novaarian picked him up with ease and slammed him into the server. With two arms, Kubrackk kept Roland suspended in the air while his other arms pummelled his stomach and chest. The Callic-diamond took chunks out of Kubrackk’s knuckles, smearing more blood across Roland’s chest plate.

  The odds shifted.

  With both arms, Roland pushed out against Kubrackk’s pinning hands. The myopallic joints in his shoulders added strength, compounding his arms’ resilience. The Novaarian was forced to let go, dropping Roland to the floor, whereupon he crouched low, driving an elbow into Kubrackk’s injured left leg. The pain caused him to step back involuntary, until he staggered and collapsed on it. Kubrackk became a tangled mess with the Trillik’s dead body.

  Before Roland had even thought about it, his Tri-roller was already out of its holster and aimed at Kubrackk.

&n
bsp; “Roland!” Li’ara’s voice came panicked over his comm.

  It was all the hesitation Kubrackk needed to lash out with his powerful right leg and launch Roland backwards. The bounty hunter fell on his back and slid down another row of servers, dropping his weapon.

  “Roland!” Li’ara’s voice again.

  With a hand on his chest, Roland picked himself up and grunted in pain. The Callic-diamond had done nothing stop him feeling that. He stumbled into another server and rested there for a moment.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked through strained breath.

  “I’m locked inside the chamber...” Li’ara’s voice was somewhere between desperation and defeat.

  A pit opened in his stomach. “Have you already-”

  “Yes. It’s got five minutes left.”

  “Then deactivate it!” With his concern for Li’ara, Roland made his way back to Kubrackk without stopping to pick up his Tri-roller.

  “The countdown won’t stop. The Laronian wanted a big bang, one way or the other.” Now her tone had changed to complete defeat.

  “OK...” Roland was thinking. “How long?”

  “Five minutes,” Li’ara sighed down the comm.

  “Hang on, I’m coming for you.” Roland headed straight between the servers, intending to get back to the Translift.

  Four blood-soaked arms shot out from behind a server and picked Roland up, charging him down the empty row. Kubrackk faltered under his damaged leg and brought them both down in a tumbling mess. Roland’s goals had changed now; he no longer cared about killing the Novaarian. He had to save Li’ara. With each hand, Roland removed a small knife from the side of his boots, and jammed them in-between the knuckles of Kubrackk’s upper hands. The Novaarian howled in pain, holding his impaled hands before his face. Combined with his already broken lower hands, Kubrackk was becoming more crippled with every encounter.

 

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