“You talk way too much, Bishop. Someone else knows about that device. There’s another agent heading this way as we speak.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“Because…because my real name is Siv Gendin, I work for the Shadowslip Guild, your intern was my informant, and I have a spy drone sitting on your windowsill watching a skimmer heading straight toward us.”
Bishop blinked and sputtered unintelligibly as he stood and glanced toward the window in his bedroom. “I don’t see anything.”
“Look closer!”
The living room brightened as the skimmer’s headlights hit the blinds.
“Sir, a level five scan is showing an open-topped skimmer armed with an assault cannon and carrying six lifeforms equipped with plasma pistols and shock hammers and…and the lifeforms are…are part machine, sir.”
Shit! That was bad. Very bad. Much worse than a rival gang after the same score. “Maintain the level five scan.”
“Bishop, you’ve got to let me go. Now!”
“I hardly think—”
“Do you know what Tekk Reapers are?”
“A—a myth?” he choked hopefully.
“Well, that myth is about to kill me and strip my organs while they harvest your brilliant brain to use as a core processor. You’re scheduled for assimilation.”
Bishop hesitantly moved toward Siv. “Assimilation?”
With a terrifying familiarity, the window in Bishop’s living room exploded inward.
Chapter Eleven
Siv Gendin
When the Benevolence perished, and the technology that supported its vast empire failed, chaos spread across the galaxy. While officials within the remaining government structure struggled to restore order, some planets broke away to form new, smaller alliances and powerful criminal organizations like the multi-world Shadowslip Guild sprouted.
Self-proclaimed prophets founded cults or resurrected ancient religions. Some believed that humanity's lack of proper devotion to the Benevolence had leached away its power. Others sought answers from the “higher powers” they believed resided in wraith space or any number of theoretical or completely made-up dimensions.
Worst of all, a large group of upstart systems broke away to follow the self-proclaimed hyperphasic messiah Empress Qaisella Qan and join her fascist Empire of a Thousand Worlds. Unwilling to risk a costly galactic war against this dark messiah during a time of upheaval, the newly renamed and tenuous Terran Federation had merely fortified its bordering systems.
And then there were the Tekk Reapers. The psychotic cult hellbent was on restoring the Benevolence, which they believed had been born from the merging of an advanced quantum supercomputer with the living brains of hundreds of thousands of sacrificial victims on ancient Terra. Unfortunately, given no recorded accounts of what the Benevolence’s core looked like, or its origin, no one could refute their absurd claims. And no one could reach Terra anymore.
With spies on every world, Tekk Reapers traveled from system to system harvesting brilliant individuals to fuel the Benevolence’s eventual rebirth. Their cadres were led by former military androids whose morality cores had been corrupted by the Tekk Plague. During their fall, these android soldiers had stolen hundreds of military starships and countless weapons. Even now, a century later, they were often better equipped than planetary defense forces.
Given their zealous devotion, physical enhancements, and extensive combat training, Tekk Reapers were amongst the most feared beings in the galaxy.
And now Siv had to face six of them…
“Incoming, sir!”
As the assault cannon burst struck the window, Siv ducked his head as far as he could while restrained to the chair. The security cog dipped low, and Bishop dived onto the floor, screaming.
Tiny fragments of safety glass peppered the apartment as bullets popped over their heads, punching holes in the ceiling and shattering light fixtures.
The shots stopped, and an eerie silence fell over the dark room. A cloud hid the moons, so the only illumination came from a single lamp on a work table in the corner.
“Lucky we didn’t get ripped to shreds, sir.”
“I’m not feeling particularly lucky at the moment. Besides, the reapers aimed high so—“
“They wouldn’t ruin their harvest? Makes sense, sir.”
“What’s our situation?”
“Six reapers confirmed, sir.”
“And all we’ve got is a gizmet who has obviously never been in a firefight and an antique security cog…”
“It won’t be much help, sir. The shields on the Billy-3 have recharged somewhat, but a single plasma shot would do them in.”
“Its shield is in better shape than mine.”
“Told you to bring a spare power pack, sir.”
“Bishop!” Siv whispered.
The skimmer bumped against the outside ledge and paused in hover mode. A cloud of smoke billowed out from the skimmer and into the room. The reapers would storm across any moment.
“Bishop!” Siv repeated more loudly.
Coming to his senses, the gizmet lifted his head, glanced around, then hopped to his feet. He tossed a neural disruptor onto Siv’s lap, then ran, head ducked down, toward his bedroom, firing shots with his disruptor as he went.
The binding restraints unclamped, and Siv did a forward roll out of the chair and into a kneeling position, with the disruptor aimed toward the window. The readout in his HUD showed the disruptor’s energy level at seventy-five percent, so he switched it to kill mode and blindly squeezed off several blasts into the heart of the smoke cloud.
The security cog spun around and fired a dispersed plasma shot as the first reaper leapt across, his form a dark smudge amidst the smoke. The beam struck him squarely in the chest but he hardly flinched, which wasn’t surprising. At best a dispersed shot would cause minor burns to exposed skin.
“Why did it—”
Siv’s question died as the cog's shot thinned the smoke cloud, revealing their enemy.
“That Billy-3 knows what’s what, sir.”
The first reaper, perched on the windowsill, was actually more disturbing than advertised. His right arm ended in a mechanical claw ripped from a construction cog, and a rapid-fire plasma pistol jutted out from his forearm. A glowing red eye protruded over his left cheek, illuminating his lower metal jaw. Scars crisscrossed the skin of his face. Siv guessed the rest of the reaper’s body appeared the same beneath his gray tactical assault armor.
Aside from his jaw, the reaper's head wasn’t made of metal, and he wasn’t wearing a helmet. Which was unfortunate for him when the Billy-3’s first plasma bolt scorched the top off his skull.
The reaper tumbled backward off the ledge, and disappeared into the darkness. He was immediately replaced by two more equally frightening and heavily modified brothers. Both carried a plasma pistol in one hand and a force hammer in the other. One took a plasma blast to the gut from the cog and fell to his knees. Siv quickly finished him off with a shot to the throat.
As the other reaper fired at the cog, Siv stood and glanced around the room, searching for the jamming device. Bishop, firing wild shots from the doorway to his bedroom, urgently gestured for Siv to join him.
“It really would be best to run, sir. The reapers don’t care enough about you to give chase.”
“Not yet.”
The remaining reapers leapt into the living room. Siv fired at them but scored nothing more than glancing hits on their body armor. One shot bounced off a full-body force field. Even if the shot had reached its target, that reaper was wearing heavy assault armor and his head was plated in crimson diamondine.
“I’m guessing that shiny ugly mother is their captain, sir. He’s the only android in the bunch.”
A large central eye above the bridge of the reaper captain’s nose focused on the cog, while his two traditional eyes, sitting widely askew to each side, glanced around.
Weaving to avoid incoming fire, the s
ecurity cog unleashed a smattering of ineffective shots as it withdrew to the far side of the room. But it kept the reapers busy and gave Siv the time he needed to spot the device, tossed on a worktable. He darted over, grabbed the signal jamming device, and backed towards Bishop and the bedroom door.
The reaper captain trained his plasma carbine on Siv and fired. Siv dropped to the floor. The plasma bolts shot just over his head and blew large holes in the wall.
“John Crapper’s ghost, sir! Those were supercharged.”
Aiming directly at the captain’s face, Siv returned fire. The shots couldn’t penetrate his field, but hopefully they would distract him.
“In here!” Bishop urged as he peppered the captain’s force field with shots of his own.
“Make a run for it, sir! Do the wrong thing. Leave the gizmet behind. Please. If the reapers find out what equipment you have on you, or if they discover me…”
“Sorry, Silkster. Gotta go with my instincts.”
“I’m so freaking glad I’m not burdened with instincts…sir.”
The cog must've had backup power packs because its force shield had lasted much longer than Silky expected. But the concentrated fire of the other three reapers finally brought its force field down.
In retaliation, the Billy-3 blasted the gun hand off one of the reapers, a moment before it crashed onto the floor, shooting sparks and belching smoke.
Siv climbed to his feet and sprinted toward Bishop’s bedroom.
“Dive, sir!”
Siv launched himself into a roll, and the first few shots of the captain’s plasma burst zipped over Siv, coming close enough to scorch a few hairs on his head. Then he was through the door. Bishop hit a button and the rest spattered into the door as it slammed shut.
Taking deep breaths, Siv glanced at the holes the reaper captain’s supercharged gun had blasted into the wall then at the still-solid door.
“I didn’t think to reinforce the walls, too.”
“You’re a paranoid little guy, aren’t you?”
Bishop sighed. “Not paranoid enough.”
More plasma bolts thunked into the door.
“Got a plan?” Siv asked.
The gizmet nodded as they backed into the corner of the room. “Yeah, and I think it’ll work.”
“You think?”
With Siv’s help, Bishop flipped his mattress up to provide a bit of cover—not that it would stop even the faintest plasma shot.
“Well, I’ve never tried it before…obviously. But it works in theory…” he frowned “…unless it’s too damaged for the—”
A section of the wall between the bedroom and the living room blew open. Siv and Bishop ducked as shards of plaster and insulation pelted the bedroom. More blasts pounded into the wall, cracking beams and shattering more plaster.
Siv called up the feed from the still-operational spy drone resting on the windowsill. Two of the reapers finished using their force hammers to break open the wall and stepped through, their plasma pistols aimed at Siv and Bishop. With a grim smile twisting his metal face, the reaper captain shoved his way between them. All three of his eyes glinted malevolently. He slung his plasma carbine over his shoulder and drew another, chunkier weapon Siv didn’t recognize. He pulled the trigger and a torrent of flame blew across the room.
The flames struck the mattress and burned the wall above and behind them. Laughing, the captain released the trigger.
“Gentlemen,” he said in a hollow, echoey voice, “usually I make a harvest as painless as possible. But you have put up quite the fight, even killed a couple of my boys. I’m afraid you’re going to have to answer for that. In pain.”
Chapter Twelve
Siv Gendin
Laughing, the reaper captain unleashed another torrent of flame. The smell of propane and burning plaster, fabric, and plastics filled Siv’s nostrils.
“It’s an intimidation weapon, sir.”
“Well, count me intimidated.”
Siv and Bishop crouched in relative safety behind the overturned mattress. As soon as the captain finished playing with fire, he’d play with his force hammers, and then the surgical knives he undoubtedly carried for conducting his harvest.
Siv glanced at Bishop. “How’s that plan of yours coming?”
Bishop made no reply. His face was crinkled into a deep frown of either concentration or perhaps frustration.
“Help me line up my targets, Silkster. I want to take at least one of these bastards with me.”
“Roger that, sir. I’ll do what I can. Would you like for me to call the authorities?”
“Not sure it matters.”
The flames stopped. Everything was quiet…too quiet. Siv checked the spy-fly drone’s feed. The Tekk Reapers stared at one another, confused about something. The captain doubled over as if sick, and the others gritted their teeth and grasped at their temples.
Bishop pumped a fist. “Aha! Got it!”
Siv readied his disruptor to take advantage of the reapers’ sudden disability. But as he stood, Bishop grabbed his arm and tugged him back.
“Get down!”
The gizmet released Siv’s arm, crouched as low as he could, and held his arms over his head.
“Silkster, what’s going on?”
“Some sort of high frequency emission, sir. I’m trying to pin…pin…point…what…what’s…”
Silky’s voice broke up then fizzed out, while Siv’s HUD filled with static. An audible, high-pitched whine pierced Siv’s ears.
Shit. Whatever the gizmet had done, it was bad. Siv bent down and tugged the mattress back so that it fell on top of them.
A moment later, the building rocked as Bishop’s living room exploded. Bits of plaster, concrete, and ceiling tile pelted the mattress over Siv’s head.
His brain felt odd and fuzzy. Everything sounded muffled. The room tilted and swam in his vision and then faded completely to black.
Siv came to his senses lying under the mattress, the gizmet beside him. He heard the fire suppression system spraying flame retardant and, when he moved, debris slid off and clattered onto the floor around them.
“Sir, you’re okay.”
Siv groaned as he shifted. “Thanks for asking.”
“What? Your vitals all read fine, sir.”
Siv checked his HUD. It was working again, but there was no live feed from the drone. “What’s the situation?”
“No idea, sir. The drone is unresponsive and your sensor array is still rebooting.”
Siv rooted around for his disruptor, trying not to shift too much. He didn’t want to draw unwanted attention. The gun was buried under Bishop’s right leg. When he pulled it free, the gizmet didn’t budge.
“Bishop,” he whispered, shaking the tiny man’s arm.
The gizmet grunted and stirred, but didn’t wake. At least he was alive.
“Silkster, what happened?”
“A high frequency burst forced me into a reboot, sir. I’ve never encountered anything like it before. No idea what caused it. The reapers were also affected. After that, an explosion—cause unknown.”
“That part, I know.” He gripped the disruptor and took a deep breath. “Okay, here goes.”
Siv surged to his feet, shoving the mattress up and over, and aimed his pistol at…no one. The living room itself was wrecked. The worktables were shattered. The recliner was reduced to scraps. Circuit boards, gears, wires, and a vast assortment of other mechanical parts lay scattered everywhere. The wall separating Bishop’s living room from his neighbor’s apartment had a gaping hole in it, and the door to the hallway had been blown off its hinges. Smoldering ceiling tiles were still falling, through a hole in the ceiling, from the apartment above.
The reapers lay under a layer of debris and flame retardant, unmoving. It was difficult to tell if they were dead or merely knocked out.
“Scans back online, sir. Switching to level five.”
Bishop moaned and sat up, grabbing his head.
Siv
knelt beside him. “You okay?”
“Think so.” He cleared a tuft of mattress from one of his horns. “The reapers?”
“I think the explosion—”
“Sir, I’m detecting life signs from the captain. He’s armed. And he’s moving.”
As the reaper captain struggled to his feet, Siv spun and fired. The white disruptor beam struck the reaper squarely in the chest and he stumbled backward. But he didn’t go down.
The reaper raised his own gun and unleashed a plasma burst in retaliation. Siv dove behind the ruined bed, but the reaper's aim was way off. The bolts scorched a haphazard pattern of holes on the wall above their heads.
Siv peeked out of his cover and again shot the captain dead center. It wasn't enough. The reaper staggered back several steps, lowering his gun, but he still didn’t go down.
“His armor has some sort of built-in energy shielding, sir. Try a headshot.”
Bishop got up on his knees and fired his disruptor as well, but his shots all sailed high.
Then the reaper unleashed another wild spray of plasma bolts, making them duck for cover. When they looked up, he was running shakily toward the living room window and the skimmer waiting outside.
Siv leapt over the bed, firing as he ran. “We’ve got to stop him!”
One shot pegged the reaper captain in the back of the head, but even that didn’t bring him down. Bishop managed to squeeze off several shots as well, but all of them missed. It was like the gizmet had never fired a gun before. Then again, he probably hadn’t. It wasn’t legal for citizens to own guns.
The captain leapt out the window and tumbled awkwardly into the open-topped skimmer. Siv sprinted across the room, shooting the reaper repeatedly. But he still managed to engage the autopilot, and the skimmer zoomed off into the night.
“Life signs?” Siv asked.
“The captain's were weak, sir. But I think he’ll make it. The other reapers are dead, as far as our sensors can tell.”
Rogue Starship: The Benevolency Universe (Outworld Ranger Book 1) Page 9