Nebula Risen

by Jake Bible

  “He’s trying to make more,” Carla mused. “Or he is connected with an outfit that is trying to make more. Maybe he’s the financing? Or maybe he’s the mark?”

  “He’s being conned? I highly doubt that,” Ple said. “Kilk is difficult to deal with, but not stupid enough to be conned.”

  “Depends on who is doing the con,” Carla said.

  “True,” Ple said. “But he is a veteran of the Orbs. He’s seen all the cons by now.”

  “Probably,” Carla said. “That’s some murky biz you work in, Mr. R.”

  “Ple, please,” Ple said.

  “Ple, please,” Carla said and pretended to fan her face. “Oh, my. Roak, you brought me a gentleman?”

  “No, I really didn’t,” Roak said.

  “Four incoming,” Hessa said.

  “Four what?” Roak asked.

  Carla looked at Roak, Ple looked at Carla.

  “I thought all tech was jammed in here,” Ple said.

  “It is,” Carla replied, her eyes narrowing at Roak. “He doesn’t have implants.” Her eyes narrowed further. “Roak? Did you get an implant? What in all the Hells, man?”

  Roak held up four fingers then pointed at the entrance wall. Carla nodded and moved quickly to the bar where she retrieved a heavy caliber rifle and several magazines.

  “Fully armored,” Hessa continued. “Race unknown. Doesn’t matter. Their armor is top notch and powered. What armaments do you have?”

  “My KL09 and Ple’s Defta,” Roak replied. “Carla? What are you sporting there?”

  “RX31 plasma assault rifle,” Carla replied. “Why? Not enough?”

  “Carla has an RX31 plasma assault rifle,” Roak relayed back to Hessa.

  “The two pistols will be nothing,” Hessa said. “Their armor is too strong.”

  “Would you care to tell me what is going on?” Ple asked.

  “Taska ratted us out,” Roak said. “I honestly didn’t think he’d do it.”

  “Could it have been the Ferg?” Ple asked as he pulled his Defta from his suit.

  “Same thing,” Carla said as she slapped a magazine into the rifle and pulled back the slide. It powered up with a powerful hum. “Told you it was just another Roak mess.”

  “Yeah, yeah, you’re usually right,” Roak said. “What else you got, Carla?”

  “Taps?” Carla called.

  The Urvein stood up from his table and shook his whole body. Rolls of thick fur and skin shuddered as he squared his shoulders and flipped the table over he had just been resting on. Strapped to the bottom of the table was a nice array of pistols.

  “What are we looking at?” Taps asked Roak, suddenly very awake and very alert.

  “He’s new,” Roak said and smiled at Carla.

  “And he fooled you,” Carla said. “Taps?”

  “Guy that brought the mess to us?” Taps asked Roak.

  “Heavy battle armor,” Roak said. “The RX31 can handle it, but my KL09 won’t.”

  “How many?” Taps asked.

  “Four,” Roak said.

  Taps looked down at the pistols. He bobbed his head up and down then picked up a pistol that was almost as big as Carla’s rifle. He threw it to Ple who barely managed to catch it without falling out of his chair. Another was thrown to Roak, but he handled it easily.

  “They’ve got a kick, so use a double grip,” Taps said. He selected an even larger one for himself. It powered up as soon as it was in his palm. Taps took aim at the entrance wall. “You think they’ll knock first?”

  The wall exploded inward.

  18.

  The four armored attackers rushed into the tavern, their rifles firing on auto and shredding everything they were aimed at.

  Taps took six shots to his chest, roared, and returned fire.

  One of the attackers lost his head. There then gone. A mist of blood and a cloud of black metal alloy sprayed the edges of the scorched entrance.

  Roak and Ple hit the deck fast. They had no time to return fire as the three remaining attackers split up and pinned them down with a barrage of plasma blasts. Two switched targets and concentrated on Taps, but one continued to pepper the area around Roak and Ple with plasma.

  “Eight Million Godsdamnit,” Roak said as he rolled behind an over turned table. He did a mental five count then popped up and returned fire. His light armor took a hit in the left shoulder, but he managed to squeeze off three shots before falling onto his back. “Damnit!”

  “Easily fixed,” Hessa said. “I have alerted the authorities and they are en route.”

  “No, they’re not,” Roak said. “They won’t do crap down here in this part of the card sector. No one cares about burnouts, and Nipun plus the other damn proprietors, pay a lot of chits to keep them out.”

  “Then you will need to defeat these attackers as soon as possible,” Hessa stated.

  “Ya think?” Roak barked as he turned and glared at Ple. “Shoot them, asshole!”

  “Patience,” Ple said as he gripped his large pistol. “Timing is everything.”

  “No, living is everything!” Roak barked, spinning himself around and putting his back to the overturned table.

  The table took the plasma hits that were sent at it. Carla was well aware of the need for a good blast shield, even table sized ones. It was only one of many reasons Roak liked the lady.

  “Ple,” Roak snarled. “Use the damn pistol or I’ll use mine on you!”

  “Calm down, Roak,” Ple said.

  “When I said defeat them as soon as possible, I meant it,” Hessa said. “You have six more incoming. ETA is five minutes.”

  “Just say that next time!” Roak yelled.

  “Say what?” Ple asked then shook his head. “Never mind.”

  Ple dodged to the side of the table and fired on the attacker pinning them down. The man screamed as half his face was obliterated. His helmet sparked and sputtered then he fell over, his remaining eye a cold, dead orb staring back at Ple.

  Taps roared over and over as he stomped towards the two remaining attackers. Plasma blasts pelted him, but he took the onslaught as if he was being hit by water balloons. His own pistol was barking heavy-caliber explosive rounds that were putting craters in the floor, the bar, the walls, pretty much everywhere. The attackers were on the move constantly, desperate to stay ahead of Taps’ aim.

  Carla whistled and placed the barrel of her RX31 against the temple of one of the attacker’s helmet. He froze and held up his hands.

  “Don’t care,” she said and pulled the trigger. The man’s head disappeared.

  The last attacker spun to engage Carla, but that meant taking his eyes off Taps. Before he could get one shot off, the massive Urvein was on him and lifting him off the ground. Then he was literally tearing the man limb from limb until all that was left was a leaking torso and a slow, pitiful death rattle coming from the dying man’s throat.

  Taps dropped the torso and fell over. He dragged himself to the bar and propped his back against it.

  “Gonna need some help getting him into his med pod,” Carla said, limping around the bar to Taps.

  “You hit?” Roak asked as he stood up, favoring his injured shoulder.

  “Hunk of helmet in my thigh,” Carla said and glanced down at her leg. “Good-sized hunk, too.”

  “How are we going to move him?” Ple asked, following Roak over to the fallen Urvein.

  “Grav dolly in the back room,” Carla said.

  “I’ll fetch it,” Ple replied and rushed to the only other door in the place.

  “He’s much nicer than his reputation,” Carla said.

  “No, he’s not,” Roak said. “Hessa?”

  “Two minutes out,” Hessa replied. “Grav roller is turning the corner now. They’ll be to the alley in seconds.”

  “You have your bolthole ready?” Roak asked Carla.

  “Always,” Carla said.

  “Will the med pod fit?”

  “It would be an idiotic bolthole if it di
dn’t.”

  “Then let’s get you in there,” Roak said. “We have six incoming.”

  “Six more of these bastards?” Carla asked and glared around at the corpses. “We can take them.”

  “No, you cannot,” Hessa said in Roak’s ear. “Talbbot heavy canons.”

  “Mechanized weaponry? Shit,” Roak said.

  “What’s your earworm telling you?” Carla asked.

  “Talbbot heavy canons,” Roak replied.

  “Bringing the big guns,” Taps said.

  “Here!” Ple said as he rushed from the back room with a grav dolly in tow.

  “I can get on by myself,” Taps said when the dolly came to a stop next to him.

  Taps dragged himself onto the grav dolly. It barely held half of him on its small platform, but he tucked up his legs and nodded to Carla as she took the controls from Ple.

  “Get out of here,” Carla said. “We’ll be fine.”

  She spun the grav dolly around and shoved it towards the back door.

  “Go!” she yelled as she gave Roak a last look over her shoulder.

  “What’s coming?” Ple asked.

  “More than we can handle,” Roak said and ran towards the destroyed entrance.

  At the mouth of the alley were six more attackers. In addition to their battle armor, they wore grav-assisted exoskeletons, each with a heavy canon mounted on their left shoulders.

  “Taking us alive is not part of their strategy, I see,” Ple said and started firing.

  “This way,” Roak said, grabbing Ple by the arm and yanking him out into the alley.

  “Towards them? Are you mad?” Ple exclaimed.

  “Trust me,” Roak said as he fiddled with the controls on the huge pistol in his hands. “See those incinerator carbon blocks?”

  “Yes, of course I see them,” Ple snapped. “So what?”

  “Stop whining,” Roak snarled. “Get behind them.”

  Roak threw his pistol towards the incoming attackers. They responded by sending a volley of mortars his way. Roak dove at Ple and knocked the man behind the carbon blocks as the mortars impacted with what was left of the alley’s back wall. The noise was deafening and the two men were covered in plasticrete and brick as the mortars nearly vaporized the end of the alley.

  “Now!” Roak yelled and pulled Ple to his feet and started climbing up over the carbon blocks. “Move ass!”

  Ple didn’t argue and followed right behind Roak.

  Roak reached the top of the stack of carbon blocks and jumped straight up into the air, his hands raised above him. He cried out as he grabbed onto something, his left hand nearly coming loose, but he held tight and started to climb. Ple began to argue, but shut his mouth as he copied Roak.

  The attackers adjusted targeting and prepared to fire another volley of mortars. Except the pistol never gave them the opportunity. It went critical before they could fire again.

  Roak cried out once more as the blast wave nearly threw him off the ladder he was climbing. But he gritted his teeth and kept moving, hand over hand, until he reached the top of the building and rolled over the ledge to come to rest on his back. Ple almost rolled on top of him, but was able to tuck to the side.

  The alley below was an inferno. Several more explosions rocked the buildings around it and plasma fire shot straight up into the air, high enough for Roak and Ple to see it from where they lay.

  “Explain,” Ple said.

  “Carla has several escape routes planned,” Roak said. “She always has at every one of her establishments. I’m one of the few that know her tricks.”

  “You two must be close,” Ple said.

  “Not really,” Roak replied as he got onto his hands and knees. He hung his head, took a few deep breaths, then struggled up onto his feet. “We can’t stay here. They’ll be sending more.”

  “I get the distinct feeling that those men were not on the Ferg’s payroll,” Ple said. “That was high-end battle tech they were sporting.”

  “Yeah, I noticed that,” Roak said. “But Nipun and Taska must have called them in.”

  “Care to enlighten me as to what we are up against?” Ple asked.

  Roak waved him off, grunted at the pain it caused in his shoulder, then staggered across the top of the building to the other side. He stared down at the alley there and immediately ducked back. Plasma blasts filled the air where his head had been only half a second before.

  “Well…shit,” Roak said.

  “More,” Ple said. “The expense must be astronomical. Not just for the operators using that battle tech, but for the payoffs to the authorities and the clean-up needed so it does not harm business among the tourists. More reasons to avoid Ballyway.”

  “No need to pay off the authorities,” Roak said. “It’s built into every bureaucrats’ salary on this planet. As for the tourists, the media will spin it as a crackdown on the underbelly of the gaming establishments and Mr. and Mrs. Loser will nod and smile and keep filling their faces with food while they empty their accounts of credits.”

  There was a high-pitched whine from above, and Roak shielded his eyes against the glare of the sky as he looked up.

  “Huh,” he grunted.

  Ple followed his gaze and shook his head. “What is that?”

  “Grav copter,” Roak said. “A new one, by the looks.”

  “A grav copter? A grav copter!” Ple shouted. “Are those rotors? What kind of backwards tech vehicle is that?”

  “Not rotors,” Roak said. “Generators. You’ve never used a grav copter before? It generates its own energy by using the up and down drafts in the air. That powers the grav modules underneath. It can’t run out of energy. Expensive as all hell.”

  “I live in an expensive world,” Ple said.

  “Grav copters are military grade only, not private empire grade,” Roak said.

  “Military. Excellent,” Ple grumbled. “An air assault.”

  “I said it was expensive as hell,” Roak replied. “It’s not part of the attack. Not in the budget for this planet.”

  “And those mechanized exoskeletons are?” Ple asked.

  Roak gave him a sharp look. “Shut up. Do I look like the Eight Million Godsdamn budget director for this stupid planet?”

  A rocket came screeching up from the alley below and Roak shot it out of the air. The concussion from the blast knocked both he and Ple to their knees.

  “What is your plan, Roak?” Ple said. “You are used to getting yourself into situations like this, so get us out of it.”

  Roak pointed at the grav copter.

  “I think someone already is,” Roak said as two lines were dropped from the vehicle, hitting the roof with heavy thwacks. “Let’s go.”

  “You want to climb those ropes and get onto that vehicle without knowing who or what is inside it?” Ple snapped. “Are you mad?”

  “You want me to get us out of this situation? Well, this is how I do it,” Roak said as he grabbed the end of the rope and tied a quick harness around his thighs and up under his shoulders. “Get to it, Ple. They can’t hover forever.”

  Ple glared at Roak as he tied his own harness then looked up at the grav copter.

  “The trick is,” Roak said as they were pulled up towards the vehicle. “Getting out of the next situation. Should be interesting to see what it is.”

  “The only people more insane than you are those that hire you!” Ple shouted as he was jerked off his feet. The grav copter took off before even coming close to reeling the two men in.

  “What does that say about you?” Roak shouted back.

  “That I must be insane for working for a man that hires someone like you!” Ple yelled.

  The grav copter rose above the incoming rocket fire, sending countermeasures down at the projectiles until it was high enough to safely bank and flee the area. Roak and Ple were finally brought all the way to the cargo area. Free of the drag, the grav copter angled its nose and shot away from the sector at a speed that would have torn t
he two men apart if they hadn’t been yanked inside seconds before.

  19.

  The men inside the grav copter, Leforians all, did not speak to Roak or Ple. They barely even gave them a glance beyond making sure they were strapped in for the flight. Ple acted like he wanted to question them, but Roak gave a shake of his head before a word could be uttered.

  Roak glanced about the grav copter’s cargo hold, glanced at the Leforians, then shrugged, closed his eyes, and eased back into his seat.

  “Are you really going to sleep?” Ple asked.

  “Not if you ask me stupid questions,” Roak replied. “Get some rest while you can. You never know the next chance you’ll have.”

  Roak opened one eye just a slit and watched Ple fuss for a minute before giving up and settling in. Once the Spilfleck’s eyes were closed, Roak went back to trying to catch some rest before the next phase of their visit to Ballyway.

  It took about forty-five minutes to arrive at their destination. Roak estimated it could be five minutes either way, but he was usually fairly correct at timing his rests. Once the grav copter touched ground and the generators powered down, he opened his eyes and stretched. Ple was wide awake and staring out the opening of the cargo hold.

  “Did they leave us?” Ple asked when the last Leforian hopped out and walked away without saying a word. “They did. The insanity continues.”

  “The galaxy works in ways you aren’t used to,” Roak said as he undid his straps, stood and twisted his back to work out the kinks of travel, then moved towards the open hatch.

  “Where are you going?” Ple asked. “We have no idea what we are walking into.”

  “Which is what I’m going to find out,” Roak said. “If our host wanted us dead, we’d be dead. If our host was afraid of us, we’d be under guard.”

  “You do not know any of that, Roak,” Ple said. “Especially who our host is.”

  Roak paused before the hatch and gave Ple a look of pity.

  “Are you really not catching up to what’s happening here?” Roak asked and rolled his eyes. “No. Of course not. This is why beings like Shava Stemn Shava hire me. Or coerce me to work for them. A lot of that happens in your circle. Syndicate, super rich, or both, they always like to force me into work. They get off on the power of it. The thing is, I don’t really care as long as I get paid my chits. If your boss wants to feel big and flex his muscles, so be it. I still get paid. I always get paid.”