Empire: Assignment Darklanding Book 12

by Scott Moon

  A spider-faced dog creature sniffed the air and turned toward him. Proletan snatched it up into the air by its throat and squeezed. He looked into its eyes and saw no sign of intelligence, only hunger and hate. Throwing it away, he retreated back the way he had come.

  His first instinct was to head for Thaddeus's location. The sheriff was the greatest threat, he thought, but immediately realized his error. The sheriff was the only man to ever have beaten him in a one-to-one fight for as long as he could remember. This made him seem like the most dangerous person on Darklanding to Proletan.

  That was not how the Yakti would see it.

  The creature had one natural enemy on the planet, and it was a pig-dog Glakridozian named Maximus.

  I should have listened to the sheriff and gone to help Mast and Maximus, but not for the reasons Thaddeus sent me to their aid.

  These were strange times for an interstellar assassin on parole.

  ***

  “I’m in…” Shaunte’s voice faded into radio static.

  “Say again. You’re breaking up,” Thad said, leaning back against a freight car. Spider mutants roamed the area, searching with their slimy tentacle faces, oddly pincered arms, and other sensory devices he couldn’t quite describe. They were similar to each other, but no two of them were exactly the same.

  This didn’t make sense. The freight car was scraped and battered as though they had attacked it then withdrawn.

  “…I said get away from the freight car. I heard you bang on the door…”

  Thad spun to face the metal box he’d been leaning on.

  “Shaunte!”

  “These things are wickedly clever. If they’re not trying to…their way in…”

  “Just open the door,” Thad shouted into his radio. He pulled on the handle, but it wouldn’t budge.

  “It’s a trap, Thad…”

  He scanned the area around him, noticing a lack of activity. Silence ruled the night like a pre-storm calm.

  “I can open the door, but it was really hard to shut the first time. You should leave me here. Get someplace safe,” Shaunte said.

  Thad climbed onto the roof of the freight car and saw hundreds of spider mutants of all shapes and sizes creeping across the other freight cars on the lot. “Okay, this first part is going to be fun. I brought toys this time.”

  He lobbed a grenade onto the roof of the box with the thickest cluster of monsters, then dropped to his stomach and covered his head with his hands. Closing his eyes and opening his mouth to avoid the shockwave bursting his lungs, he rolled to his feet the moment it was over and hurled two more grenades.

  That left a final two that he needed to save for something special. Stunned, the swarm fell back slightly, then edged forward on all sides.

  The sliding door to the freight car he was standing on slammed open.

  “Shaunte! What are you doing?”

  She pulled herself up the ladder onto the roof. “I’m not hiding in there while you’re out here playing hero.”

  “If you get killed, then this was a huge waste of time,” he said.

  Shaunte answered by firing her small blaster just in time to obliterate a spider leaping across the gap between freight cars.

  “Nice shot,” Thad said. “We better get to it.”

  “I’m ready,” she said, shaking her messy hair and smiling with her grimy face. Her perfectly-tailored business outfit was ripped in places.

  Thad adjusted the grip on his blaster as he studied her resolve. “We work as a team. You don’t have much ammunition and your weapons lacks the knockdown power of a combat piece. So stay close to me and only fire when I’m reloading.”

  “I can do that.” Shaunte aimed her weapon at the swarm, ready for her turn to kill them.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN: The Last Hurrah

  Mast yanked his head around when he heard Maximus squeal in pain. Until now, the pig-dog had only issued muchly disturbing growls, snarls, and a nearly supersonic shriek that drove the creatures back like he was brandishing fire. This new sound alarmed Mast. If the pig-dog went down, they were done for.

  “Are you okay, Maximus?”

  “Aroooh. Snort, snort.”

  Mast rushed toward his animal friend. Despite his enthusiastic noise-making, the pig-dog lay on his side.

  “You don’t look injured. What’s the matter? Get up. We need to fight. The monsters are muchly gathering for another attack.”

  Still stretched out on his side, Maximus slapped the ground with his tail. “Snort.”

  “Are you smiling?”

  “Snort.”

  Mast became greatly angry and frustrated. “Did you eat one of them!”

  “Snort, snort, snort!” Maximus thumped the pavement rapidly with his tail.

  “I hope you get muchly bad indigestion. Mast Jotham was worried about you,” Mast said.

  Maximus lumbered to his feet, staggered as though drunk, and shook his head.

  Mast waited, sensing there was something horrible to come. He imagined his animal friend retching up one of the fifteen-legged things. It would be too much. Mast Jotham had certainly experienced enough of this nightmare in Darklanding.

  Horrible sounds crawled up from Maximus’s throat. He groaned, staggered, and rolled his eyes in misery—or maybe ecstasy, it was hard to say for certain—and belched with hurricane force.

  “That is muchly rude, pig-dog.”

  “Snort.”

  Alien shrieks whistled through Mast’s brain. He wanted to curl up in a ball and sleep until the attack was over. Senseless words whispered in his mind. Something was different. There was an intelligence behind this attack.

  His hands trembled. His vision blurred. Everything seemed far away and right on top of him at the same time. Words began to coalesce and make sense.

  “You must kill the Glakridozian. Destroy the filthy creature. We hate it. You must hate it. You must kill it and open the way to the galaxy,” the voice said.

  “Who are you?”

  “I am Yakti-droon. Serve me, and I will consume you. I will use your bio-mass to make a more perfect killing machine. Your essence will be muuuuchhhly used to swarm the galaxy and feed me for eternity,” the voice said.

  “I do not like that plan.” Mast studied the horde of monstrosities surrounding him. One seemed likely to be the leader. It was larger than most, but not the largest. He thought it was watching him and when it moved, the crowd of spider-mutant things maintained the same distance around it, radiating out like the arms of a living spider web.

  “Maximus, kill that one!” Mast fired at what he thought was the owner of the psychic voice. The blaster bolt winged the creature before it hid behind its minions.

  “Kill the Glakridozian!” Yakti-droon raged. The telepathically invasive words hurt Mast’s head. The guttural sound of its actual speech sounded like jagged aluminum being dragged over a chalkboard.

  The swarm surged toward Mast and the pig-dog with unstoppable force.

  ***

  Maximus howled at the Darklanding moons. “Aroooooh!” He didn’t know what had taken his Unglok friend Mast Jotham so long. Of course the hive queen-father needed to die. “Snort! Snort! Aroooooh!”

  He charged into a mass of five-kilo spiders, bowling them aside like splakri-garzs.

  ***

  Proletan saw the surge and restrained himself. He wanted to pump one victorious fist in the air but suspected the gesture could be very premature. There were too many of the Yakti bio-constructs to count. Whatever had just happened had changed the spacing of the Yakti minions. Where they had radiated through the area in a rough, hard-to-attack circle, they were now focused on the Unglok and the outcast guardian of Glakridoz.

  All had been lost but fortune favored the bold. Now he had arrived behind the enemy’s undefended rear. The fact that the murderous alien intelligence considered the dog creature a greater threat than Proletan hurt Proletan’s pride. Angry and knowing he shouldn’t give into anger, he pulled two knives from his
belt. He would kill as many as possible before he started shooting. Then he would fight his way to Yakti-droon and prove who was the most dangerous killer in the galaxy.

  ***

  Thad relaxed as the conflict continued. It was a strange thing to find peace in violence. During a hot battle, that was exactly what happened. Aiming, shooting, and moving became nothing more than a job—a list of tasks to get done with the slightly unreal prospect of death waiting beyond his first failure to meet a “deadline.”

  Shaunte quit talking and did her job, shooting the creatures whenever Thad paused to reload.

  The entire fight lasted less than two minutes but felt like two hours. Neither of them had enough ammunition for a sustained engagement. “We’re going to get the hell out of here soon.”

  “How?” Shaunte asked, not looking at him but through the sights of her small blaster for her next target. “I’m not trying to be difficult, but I don’t see how we’re going to escape without growing wings.”

  “Funny you should mention that,” he said.

  The adjacent freight cars had been covered with the creatures. Some had swarmed away to find a meatier meal, Thad guessed. Something was happening near the Unglok quarter. Others had given up the idea they could jump the gap without being shot and climbed between the battered metal freight cars.

  “I don’t like the way you are looking at me,” Shaunte said, dividing her attention between Thad and a pair of spiders attempting to sneak over the edge. She blasted one. The other scurried back. Its rows of eyes peaked over the edge as it moved sideways, looking for a chance to attack.

  “It’s a new move I just came up with. I call it the Shaunte Toss.”

  “No, you don’t!” she yelled as he grabbed her by the back of her belt in one hand and her hair with the other.

  He swung her back, then forward as hard as he could.

  She flailed through the air screaming murderous sounds that were almost recognizable as profanity.

  Thad jumped after her, landing on the vacant roof with two-thirds of his body. His knees and shins slammed into the side, causing him to grunt and slide downward.

  Shaunte grabbed the shoulders of his jumpsuit and heaved him the rest of the way up. “I’d pull you by your hair if it wasn’t so short, you jerk!”

  Thad couldn’t breathe. Pain filled his body and his lungs hated him. Gasping his words, he dragged himself to his feet and staggered forward. “We have to go now. They’re coming.”

  Behind them, the rest of the swarm realized what Thad and Shaunte had done. They pursued with renewed vigor.

  “Should I go down this ladder or are you going to throw me again?” Shaunte asked.

  “Down. Get to the street and run for the Mother Lode. Your father’s TerroCom soldiers are there.”

  ***

  Thad shoved Shaunte past the guard at the door, turned, and fired on the lizard-like spider that had nearly caught them three times during the mad dash through Darklanding. His shot winged the creature. A sergeant named Victory drilled it in the face with his heavy carbine blaster.

  “Sloppy shot, sir,” Sergeant Victory said.

  “My last shot.”

  “Glad you made it, sir. You don’t remember me. I made rank since Centauri Prime.”

  “I remember you. Thanks.” He hadn’t remembered the man at first, but it was all coming together now.

  “I’m going to my room,” Shaunte said, storming up the stairs.

  “What’s your problem?” Leslie Stargazer asked as she passed.

  “Have you ever been tossed from one rooftop to another? Well, I have!”

  “Can you define ‘tossed’? It might be something I’m into. Sounds kinky,” Leslie said.

  “Hmmph!” Shaunte turned her back on the laughter that followed.

  “Why, my dear, heroic Sheriff Thaddeus Fry, you can’t go around tossing women off buildings,” Leslie said.

  The soldiers and Mother Lode patrons taking a break from guard duty laughed.

  “It’s actually quite liberating. I highly recommend it,” Thad said. He strode to the door.

  Sergeant Victory stopped him. “Once you’re in, you’re in, sir.”

  “I’m going to help my deputy and my pig-dog,” Thad said.

  “Everyone wants to go out there to help someone. Best to shelter in place and wait for reinforcements,” Victory said.

  “I just threw the woman I love off a fifteen-foot-high freight car. Call me crazy, dock my pay, drum me out of the service, but don’t get in my way,” Thad said.

  “You need help?” Sergeant Victory asked.

  “Just keep up the good work. And don’t let anyone follow me, especially not the Company Man. She’s kind of stubborn.”

  “Understood, sir.”

  ***

  Penelope Fry-Grigman, Ground Forces-retired, SagCon Special Investigator-retired, former girlfriend of General Adam Quincy-retired came down the stairs just in time to see Thad leave.

  The general followed her.

  “Stop following me,” she said.

  “You’re going to do something foolish,” he said.

  “And what if I do? We’re not together anymore, Adam. How many times do I have to say that? I’m with Tiberius.”

  The general looked around, not missing the fact that everyone not guarding the doors and windows was staring at him and Penelope. “Funny, I don’t see him here. Apparently, he doesn’t care as much about you or his daughter as he says.”

  “That’s bullshit and you know it,” Penelope said.

  “I’m going with you. Sergeant Victory won’t let you out unless I tell him to,” the general said.

  “Fine, but I’m with Tiberius,” she said, knowing it was a lie. She had lost interest in both men. They wanted to possess her as a prize. At least Thaddeus had never done that, which was, ironically, why she’d left him. He hadn’t been possessive enough.

  Sergeant Victory opened the door while two of his soldiers aimed their heavy combat rifles into the darkness, scanning for the swarm with night vision optics.

  Penelope faked a step through the threshold. The general followed too close, sensing a trick. She turned abruptly and handcuffed him to the inside of the doorway.

  By the time he finished shouting at Sergeant Victory to “get out his damn handcuff key and un-handcuff him,” Penelope Fry-Grigman had disappeared into the night.

  ***

  Everything came together for Thad and his friends. All it cost them was deadly injuries, pain, and nightmares that would haunt them all their days.

  Thad stalked toward the chaos, looking for an opportunity to do what Proletan had already begun—attack the undefended rear element of the enemy swarm. None of the creatures saw him. He was a silent angel of death about to deliver the wrath of…

  “Thaddeus!” Penelope whispered harshly.

  Thad jumped, twisted, and aimed his blaster at his ex-wife. When he came down, all his deadly composure was ruined. “Pen! Are you trying to kill me?”

  “Yes, Thad. I came all this way to kill you when you are doing a perfectly good job of dying all by yourself. We don’t have time for this. It’s time to fight, and not each other,” she said.

  “I will never understand women.” He moved as quickly as he could without alerting the alien mutants he was about to ambush. Penelope came right beside him, her gaze on the job they needed to do.

  “We are really over, Thad. I just wanted to say that. Don’t get any ideas just because I dumped two of the most powerful men in the galaxy to join you in this last hurrah.”

  “I will never understand women,” Thad repeated.

  “It’s best that you don’t.”

  They separated slightly and attacked.

  Thad focused on his work, shooting nearly a dozen of the things in as many seconds. “Fight your way toward Maximus! I think he knows which one is the leader!”

  “Roger that!” Penelope shouted back.

  ***

  Proletan was so clo
se to victory. He only needed to kill five or six more.

  A creature with poorly-developed batwings flung itself from a rooftop, sailed over the battle, and latched fangs around Proletan’s blaster hand.

  He dropped the weapon, caught it with his other hand, and began firing without hesitation.

  A bear-sized Yakti minion tackled him from behind. Proletan’s face plowed into the cheap asphalt of the Darklanding street.

  One, two, three more of the creatures piled on top of him.

  ***

  Mast tried to keep up with Maximus. A wave of monsters surged from a nearby alley and rushed toward him. He muchly retreated, aiming each shot carefully because he was nearly out of ammunition.

  More of the creatures rushed him. His blaster ceased to work. He patted his coat pockets for charge packs and didn’t find any. “I am Mast Jotham! This is my home!”

  He clubbed a red-eyed, black and silver centipede with his empty blaster.

  ***

  Penelope went down.

  Thad turned and fired several quick shots to clear the creatures away from her. She jumped to her feet and staggered away, not even pausing to complain she could have done that without his help.

  He thought she must be injured.

  Maximus wailed as the hive-leader bit him less than five strides from where Thad stood deciding if he should help the pig-dog or check on his ex-wife. The decision should have been easy.

  He charged toward Maximus, shouldering the biggest of the creatures aside and stepping on the smallest that covered the ground like a carpet of organic murder-bugs. The entire swarm converged around him.

  Maximus had his jaws locked around two of the hive-creature’s arms while the other arms stabbed and slashed him.

  Yakti-droon kills the Glakridozian! a voice in Thad’s head wailed triumphantly.

  “Not today!” Thad threw his body over Maximus to protect him from further attacks while thrusting his blaster forward at the same time. The barrel pressed into the hideous, many-eyed face of the creature. He pulled the trigger and sent ancient goo flying out the back of its head.