by Tobias Roote
Dalt’s eyes switched to the unknown groups to check if they had seen Grady yet - they had. Frantic signalling followed between them and they spread out whilst at the same time moving in on their quarry who was currently making straight for the trading centre. Dalt knew where he was going, as were the others who were intent on ensuring Grady never arrived. He pushed into the crowds himself, not making directly for Grady, but instead towards the members of the group to his left.
He reached the first man, a swarthy type who was using his weight and size to push through the crowd. Extending his hand outward to reach the man’s shoulder, a gleam shone briefly as it touched. Then, he was walking on past the collapsing body, leaving the crowd to make of it what they would. Taking into account the proximity of the second, he angled his approach to come from behind. Again, a brief gleam, then this man was dropping like his companion. There was just one more from this side. The man had seen him, or had lost sight of his colleagues, possibly both. He moved faster towards the target, but so did Dalt. He caught the grey eyes of the approaching Grady and flicked his glance behind him. Message received, the man altered course and looked back to assess the threat. Seeing the two groups, he glanced back at the tall man and nodded.
The last man of the first group was a few metres from Dalt when he pulled a blaster from inside his tunic and raised it to aim at the mutant hunter. Until then Dalt had been unsure of their actual intentions, but now seeing it was assassination, he moved swiftly, the gleam from his hand now more pronounced as a crack of lightning leapt the short distance catching the man on the arm, forcing him to drop the weapon.
The assailant turned briefly towards Dalt, now holding his injured arm, then continued towards Grady apparently prepared to continue his mission. As the man pressed forward the last few metres to reach his target, Grady was already turning his back to deal with the threat coming from behind. The assassin had not reckoned on the speed of Dalt, thrusting people away from him who arrived at precisely the same moment. The gleam from his hand arced across to the assailant’s shoulder and the man dropped unconscious to the ground, like the others.
Dalt pulled alongside the target, looking at him closely. His memory served him well, the man hadn’t changed in the last four years.
“You have powerful enemies, Philly” he said using Grady’s nickname from his days of early training.
“I take but a single breath, and there are those who would try to steal it,” Grady smiled winningly.
Dalt pushed Grady away again with the instruction, “Leave these to me - you must escape. There are developments that require your immediate attention - leave now !”
Grady did a double-take, but seeing a glimpse of the curling silver tattoo gleaming under the man’s hand, realised that he was right. He nodded, then fell back and moved aside as he saw others like the tall man moving in on the groups.
When he was far enough away, he turned and ran for his ship.
Space port, Simos Station
Grady admittedly didn’t fully understand what was occurring but was sensible enough to realise that he had somehow been targeted and it wasn’t a spontaneous attack. The timely presence of Dalt, his shadow, ensured that. Perhaps his cover had been blown and this was an attempt to exact revenge. There were definitely people who might look to make him pay for his betrayal.
Deep undercover as a mutant hunter, Grady had successfully thwarted many corporation attempts to eradicate problem clone-worlds. In doing so, there had been quite a few casualties amongst renegade mutant hunters. Enough that if they were tracked back to him and the Citrix, there would be all kinds of hell to pay.
As he ran his wrist-beeper went off calling him back to his ship.
Looking ahead, he could see smoke and mobile response drones swarming over something at the space-port – his ship ? The port’s large drone-fans could be seen frantically funnelling the unbreathable smoke away in plumes towards the edge of the dock to then be sucked through the air scrubbers and purified.
On a space station the only air that is available is that which the drones were now in the process of cleaning. They were the primary response mechanism in any port fire - fuel and ship fires were about the only thing that could close a station down. The habitats themselves were practically fireproof and a fire in the commercial sector equally unlikely. Ships came in from all over space in different conditions, some badly maintained, others shot up by pirates. Fires that wouldn’t rage in space would suddenly ‘catch’ on contact with the air from inside the station. It wasn’t common, but happened often enough to keep everyone on their guard ; fire was the biggest hazard next to explosion.
This was a big one by recent standards - the bill for those four drones was going to be expensive. Someone was going to have to pay, he sure hoped it wasn’t him.
Reaching the arrivals area he could see a crowd building. Spectators who should know better, for if the area got closed down, a vacuum might be the only solution for a fire raging out of control. The station had a responsibility to itself, and if people were stupid enough to put themselves in danger they had no compunction over venting them into space to save the space-port.
Jumping a barrier, Grady ran closer to the mooring area thinking he could see the origin of the problem. This was bad news, he decided quickly - it was located near to where he’d docked.
Grell ! Was it his ship ?
How could that be happening when all he’d done was dock, pay his dues and list his ship as available for charter.
He’d got up this morning, closed off the valves, securing it against unwanted entry and walked off-deck for his breakfast. He’d only been gone thirty minutes and his life was being turned upside down, attacked in the Market square, and now this.
As the smoke cleared showing his ship still intact, he breathed a sigh of relief, but only partially. Whilst his ship was sitting there, seemingly untouched, the ships either side had been hammered as though they had been in some kind of war. The Citrix was sitting between them - unscathed. Odd ! His memory of docking was they had been mutant ships like his. So, they were already here when he docked. Would this place suspicion on him ?
He flicked his wrist, using his Wiband, wrist ID, to get him through the security cordon to approach the mayhem more closely. His ship had alerted him and the least he needed to do was get on-board and move it away from possible danger. He pushed his way past onlookers, and although seeing nothing suspicious, no warning bells, no gut feeling - he nonetheless had a premonition that somehow he was going to be involved in whatever, or whoever caused this.
He saw one of the security detail look up from his tab and scan the faces, looking for something and quickly finding it - him. Grady realised the guard would have caught the Wiband connection and would be seeking its origin in case it was a new threat.
Oh, crap ! Now, the security team were looking at him as if to ask why ? Why indeed, he thought.
To say he was lucky was to court disaster, but there was no doubt that lately his luck had been working for him, every time. This was a major incident and he wondered how and perhaps why, his vessel had been missed. It had a few black scorch marks from what looked suspiciously like laser fire, but otherwise it was relatively unharmed. The same couldn’t be said for his neighbours. They wouldn’t be flying again in a hurry, if ever. Somebody had done a very efficient number on both of them.
The on-the-scene officer was also looking at him suspiciously as though he might have had something to do with the chaos that was unravelling on the dockside. Grady ignored him and hoped he could reach his ship before he was stopped. He didn’t want a showdown, not here, but then their eyes met.
Grady caught his questioning look, but hadn’t any idea, so shrugged innocently at the man, who noting his non-verbal response immediately turned away. He looked cross and worried, Grady thought. Yeah ! I would be too, that’s the third attack in the last month. There was no sign of any injured parties coming off the ships so they were eithe
r absent, or dead. He briefly thought of the men back in the market square. Had they been off these ships ?
There was no doubt someone, or some organisation was attacking hunter ships, but Grady had no idea why his had been spared.
Checking his ship from bow to stern visually as he approached he decided its continued proximity to the other ships wasn’t recommended. He intended to move the Citrix immediately before the whole zone became off-limits. He proceeded to his gangplank and was about to mount it when he was rudely shoved back by a guard that had raced out of the shadow of the wreckage at the front of his ship.
The large intimidating hulk had his Nerve Pulse Baton (NPB) out as if to subdue Grady, but after shoving him back from his personal boarding corridor just glared at him.
“Keep back, can’t you see this is a fucking crime scene, you mutant-jerk ?” he sneered obnoxiously.
Not a lover of mutant hunters obviously, Grady thought. The guard looked as if he might take the issue further, waving the NPB in Grady’s direction as if daring him to try anything.
He wasn’t fazed, he could take the guard without breaking into a sweat. The Citrix was his property and as its owner, no security guard could keep him from it, especially if there was a possible risk to it, or the station. His proximity to a potential hazard front and rear dockside gave him the right to inspect and if necessary remove the ship to safety. Lorgia’s, the station’s owner would back him up, he knew. In the meantime, he needed to get past this low-life in a uniform and do it without being batoned.
“Actually...” Grady pointed to the wreckage either side, “...the crime scenes, ‘plural’, are there and there. This here is my ship, and it’s not a crime scene so get out of my way before I have your fucking badge.”
At this point, Grady was almost eyeball to eyeball with the over-zealous guard. He didn’t have any higher clearance than these goons so the threat was probably hollow, but they didn’t know that and he needed to get on his ship before they closed off the whole area. It might take days to get away and Simos Station wasn’t the friendliest of places. There had been many a time a ship was confiscated and captains incarcerated on the whim of the station’s owners. Nobody crossed the Lorgia’s and prospered afterwards. Grady had history with Lorgia’s and could probably count on them, but only up to a point.
Grady thought the guard was going to call his bluff and prepared to take him down, but before the man could decide he was distracted by a shout.
“Fleming ! Get your arse over here,” the call came from the officer that had looked balefully at him a moment ago.
“NOW !” He added ; fixing the guard in his iron stare as if daring him to disobey.
Grady sent a grateful look in his direction, but the officer was already concentrating on something else.
The guard hesitated, swallowing what might have been a biting retort. Grady could see the desire flare in him to disobey his orders and bring Grady down. Something in the way Grady squared up to him made him hesitate and in the end the guard looked at him malevolently, but stepped back, did a swift right turn and doubled across to the officer. Grady, now clear of any obstacle made his way up the gangplank and twisted the valve to board his ship.
He glanced back before entering to see the officer looking at him strangely, which sent warning bells up Grady’s spine. The other guard standing next to him continued to glare with intense animosity. Grady wasn’t quite sure how he had managed it, but the look from the security officer told him that all was not well - had he received a report from his base about the fracas in the square ? Grady decided he wouldn’t hang about. He turned and entered the craft’s main doorway as the valve closed behind him. The lighting, though subdued was enough to allow him to see his way the short distance to the cockpit. He intended to lift-off and head out the air-lock as soon as he could.
Chapter Six
The Citrix - Simos Station
The cockpit should have been empty, there was no reason for anyone to be there at that moment, but there she was – casting a stone-cold glare in his direction, obviously under stress and importantly, at least from Grady’s perspective anyway, pointing a gun at him. Even more significantly her finger was planted firmly on the trigger as she looked prepared to fire.
“Oh Grell !” he exclaimed taking in the scene in front of him and raising his hands to indicate he wasn’t armed and no threat.
He realised that she must be the reason for the problem outside with the guards. Had the security officer known anything about this ? Grady remembered the strange look. It was possible he was complicit in the bombing. It wouldn’t be the first time there had been insider help in acts of sabotage at the station. It would explain the response outside at the gangway.
Grady knew now there was definitely something off with the whole drama ; and he was, or could be, the patsy to take the fall.
“Did you board alone ?” she waved the gun at the corridor as if conjuring assailants through the door.
“Yes, but security are literally outside the ship and I’m not too sure if they won’t force access. I’ve left them in a bit of a bad mood.” He pointed at her arm, “- and besides, you don’t look like you’re up to taking on another firefight.”
She gritted her teeth and leaned heavily on the back of the chair, his chair.
He paid more attention to the woman behind the laser. Whilst she looked as though she could handle herself well, she was in bad shape. She was bleeding from the shoulder and her arm looked a bit peculiar as though it wasn’t an active part of her body - broken, he surmised. Grady immediately decided to go for the laid back approach, there was nothing else he could do in the tight confines of his cockpit.
“You could just shoot me, but wouldn’t it be better to find out who’s side I’m on before you blast my head off ?” he asked. He hadn’t gone out armed, so was at a distinct disadvantage, but then she looked as if she might keel over before pulling the trigger anyway. He wanted to keep her talking in the hope of staving off any bad decisions on her part.
She sighed and her shoulders slumped a little. Grady used the time to take a closer look at her, she’d been in a fight and come out of it a little worse for wear, but then he’d not seen the others. If the blazing ships were anything to go by, she was a dangerous person to mix with. Her military-grade armour-plate showed evidence of laser burns, with one looking as if it had gotten through to her shoulder.
She was watching him. As if in answer to his unspoken question she volunteered, “It’s broken, and I’m bleeding.”
Grady had realised that, but played a little dumb while he continued his assessment of the situation.
“Well, that I can see, but what the fuck are you doing on my ship ?... Do you... wait, you’re here now - what the fuck happened to those ships - do you have any idea ? Of course, you do.” He’d already guessed that she had somehow come a cropper from an armed response from one, or both of the ships. With no opportunity to escape before the security teams arrived she’d slipped up his gangplank and somehow ‘hazed’ the valve.
“How did you get aboard ?” He glanced at the cockpit camera that was trailing their conversation. He had his suspicions, but now was not the time to question the loyalty of his AI.
She ignored his questions, but her frown increased in concentration while she also chewed her lip, trying to come to a decision.
Then, swinging her gun wildly at Grady “Are we going to play nice ?”
Grady wasn’t having any of it. This was his ship and he could take care of himself, as she would find out soon enough if she didn’t drop the aggressive routine.
“IF you get the fuck off my bridge and let me clean up the blood you’re leaking all over my chair - I might think about not tossing you out the bilge valve,” Grady responded and stepped to one side to give her room to leave via the door, it also took him closer to her.
He tossed his head towards the now unrestricted and open gangway. “There’s a MedicBot in th
e rear that can take care of that for you...” He indicated the wound and broken arm “... but put the gun away unless you plan to use it,” he said with conviction knowing she would ignore him, but that was alright too. He’d calculated the odds and was happy that he was now in a position to disarm her before she did anything stupid.
Pulling herself up painfully away from the chair, she flinched as her body adjusted to the strain, but Grady knew better than to move to help her. She was strung out from the weeping laser wound which would be hurting like a bitch by now. It wasn’t that he couldn’t take her, he just didn’t want the guards on his back, and a laser bolt might register on the station’s sensors and bring them running.
Given the choice, he would take his chances here with her.
She looked at him suspiciously. “How do I know you aren’t going to call the guards and have me taken ?”
He laughed, “Seriously ? Do you know what I do for a living ?”
She leaned back on the chair again and looked like she was thinking, her face screwed up holding back the pain as she summoned up the information from her memory.
“Philus Grady, thirty-seven years old, ex-naval attaché. Awarded three citations for bravery, one black heart. Resigned on grounds of incompatibility with Core Command. Now, owner and operator of the ‘Citrix’ a four spin-drive ex-fleet marauder. Currently an independent mutant hunter available to the highest bidder. Unmarried, a citizen of Gamma, half-brother of Hadrien Grady CSO of DeMag, and son of Primella Jordan, the wife of the Gamma Ambassador to Epios Prime. You’re a clone sympathiser - which incidentally, is why your ship is still in one piece - but you might want to consider a change of career.” She recited as if reading it back from his job sheet, then looked at him as if expecting him to deny everything.