by G J Ogden
“Top mercenary tip; drink hard, but always stay sober,” she answered. “That way your enemies will always think you’re vulnerable.”
“You’re pretty incredible, Tory Bellona,” said Hudson. “Has anyone ever told you that?”
They reached the door of The Winchester, and Tory pushed it open. “I’ve been called a lot of things, but never that.”
“Well, there’s a first time for everything,” said Hudson, stepping through the door. “Let’s drink to many more first times.”
“Like the first time stopping an alien invasion from wiping out the human race?” said Tory, as she moved in beside Hudson. The door slammed shut behind them, as if to reinforce the weight of Tory’s question.
Hudson sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, wearily. “Well, when you put it like that, I think I definitely need a few drinks.”
Tory stepped further into the bar, but then stopped and pressed her hands to her hips. “I think we might be serving ourselves.”
Hudson hadn’t even noticed until then that the bar was completely deserted. He walked up to the counter, but Roy the barman wasn’t there; not even hiding under his bucket. Hudson reached over the counter top and grabbed a couple of glasses, while Tory suddenly vaulted the bar like a gymnast. He watched her with interest as she sauntered along the row of antique weapons hung on the rear wall, before stopping in front of one in particular. Hudson smiled knowingly, finally understanding what the mercenary was up to.
Tory delicately lifted the Winchester rifle from its mounting brackets on the wall, and began examining it with a sort of loving deference. Then she noticed that Hudson was staring at her, with an accusatory look on his face.
“What?” she said, scowling back at him.
Hudson held up his hands, “I’m not judging, but isn’t that technically stealing?”
Tory appeared to be unmoved by Hudson’s indictment. She gently rested the rifle on the bar, and grabbed a bottle of the strongest bourbon she could find. Placing it alongside the glasses that Hudson had retrieved, she met his eyes again, and said, “Shut up and pour.”
Hudson shrugged. There was no point arguing with Tory, especially when she was armed with two lethal weapons. He popped open the bottle and poured two large measures.
“Technically, that’s stealing too,” said Tory, having a little dig of her own.
“I was going to leave some hardbucks behind the counter,” lied Hudson, but Tory was having none of it.
“We both know that the few hardbucks you have left are tucked inside Liberty’s jacket,” she said, picking up her glass. Then she tapped the Winchester with her other hand, and added, “Besides, Buckethead won’t miss this. And, where we’re going, we’ll need the extra firepower.”
Hudson couldn’t argue with Tory’s final point. He picked up his glass, chinked it against Tory’s, and they both drained the contents in one. “Do you even have any bullets for that thing?” said Hudson, as Tory re-filled the glasses.
Tory whipped her Colt Frontier Six-Shooter revolver out of her holster. Hudson had terrifying flash-backs to earlier, more hostile moments in their relationship, and almost threw up his hands in surrender.
“This is the Model 1873 Winchester rifle,” she said, tapping it with the barrel of her revolver, “which, helpfully, uses the same ammunition as this six-shooter.” She holstered the revolver again, then tapped one of her many other belt pouches with the tip of her finger. “As for ammunition, that’s what all these are for. Most of them, anyway.”
Hudson picked up his glass, “Right now, this is the only round I’m interested in,” he said, taking another mouthful.
The door then suddenly flung open and a man bustled inside. Tory instinctively drew her revolver and aimed it, clicking back the hammer. The man froze, and Hudson let out a huge breath of relief, realizing who it was.
“What are you two doing in here?” said Roy the barman. He then noticed the revolver aimed at him and thrust his hands towards the ceiling.
Tory de-cocked the six-shooter, and holstered it again, before answering, “We’re having a drink. What does it look like?”
Roy frowned, but seemed to accept Tory’s statement of the obvious, and continued to bustle towards them. “Well, you’ll have to finish, because I’m locking up and getting off this station,” he said, moving behind the bar. He grabbed a fresh garbage bag, and started to go through the drawers and cupboards, tossing various items into the bag. “Everyone has gone, apart from the MP, and they never come in here, anyway. Stuck up assholes…” he grumbled, before moving to the till and opening it with his thumbprint. He tossed whatever hardbucks were inside into the bag, then bustled past Tory again, before spotting the antique lever-action rifle on the counter. “What are you doing with that?” he asked, nervously. He was careful to stay out of her striking range, and ensure that the question didn’t sound like an accusation. Hudson smiled; he’d almost forgotten about Tory’s fierce reputation.
Tory rested on the bar, and twisted her body to face Roy, before taking a sip of bourbon. “I’m going to shoot some Council thugs with it on Mars,” she said, with all the casual menace that used to both terrify and enthrall Hudson. “Do you have a problem with that?”
The barman shook his head vigorously, “No, no, just asking! Feel free to borrow it.” Hudson was impressed at his casual slipping-in of the word ‘borrow’. It was a cunning and non-aggressive method of inferring that Tory should return it.
“Sure, I’ll bring it back,” said Tory. “Assuming we don’t all get vaporized by this planet-killing alien ship, of course.” Roy’s eyes widened and he almost dropped his now full garbage bag. Tory took another sip of bourbon, before adding, “Weren’t you about to leave?”
“Yes, and you should too,” said Roy, grabbing an epaper from a shelf under the counter, before sliding it in front of Hudson. He then hustled back around the bar and made a bee-line for the door. Hudson saw Tory duck underneath the counter to grab something, before she called out to Roy.
“Hey, you might be needing this,” Tory yelled at the barman. She then tossed the bucket that Roy used to place on his head during bar fights towards him. It clattered across the floor, and spun to a stop by his feet.
“Keep it!” Roy called back. He pushed through the door and was gone.
Hudson turned back to Tory, and shot her another reproving look.
“What? I have a reputation to uphold,” shrugged Tory, before finishing her bourbon, and topping it up.
Hudson laughed, and finished his drink. Placing the glass back down on the counter, his attention was then drawn to the epaper that Roy had slid towards him. He picked it up, and swiped to the lead story in the news section, his brow furrowing more deeply the more he read.
“What is it?” asked Tory, leaning closer with her elbows on the bar.
“Goliath,” said Hudson, ominously. “Sapphire Alpha was just the start. It’s taken out Emerald One, Medusa Four, Ruby Prime and Cerberus One too,” he continued, scanning ahead. “And those seed ships have been spotted attacking many of the smaller colonies on the other OPW worlds too.”
Tory frowned, “Ruby Prime is where union headquarters was based. If that planet has been destroyed, then the OPW is finished.”
Hudson nodded, “And if we don’t stop it then Earth will be next. We’d better get going.”
“Wait,” said Tory, re-filling Hudson’s glass. “There’s one piece of good news in that bulletin that we should drink to.”
“Really?” replied Hudson, wondering how the annihilation of entire planets, and the end of the Union of Outer Portal Worlds, could be something worthy of a toast.
“If Cerberus One is gone then so is New Providence,” Tory said, raising her glass. “That will weaken the Council and send them into a panic. It might make what we have to do next a bit easier.”
Hudson sighed, “That’s pretty thin as far as silver linings go, but I guess every little helps.” Then he raised his glass, and said, “
To silver linings.”
“And to the next adventure,” Tory replied, before they both knocked back their drinks.
Hudson slid off his stool and felt his legs wobble. He had to grab the counter again to steady himself. “I think I’ll be needing one of those nanolivers soon enough,” he said, before finally getting control of his limbs.
Tory vaulted the bar again, and landed like a cat on the other side. “I already took one before we left the Orion,” she said, smiling.
Hudson shook his head, “Drink hard, but stay sober, right? I have to learn that one.”
“We have time,” said Tory, grabbing the bottle of bourbon and handing it to Hudson. “I’m not going anywhere.” Tory then picked up the Winchester rifle, before hooking her arm through Hudson’s. “Come on, let’s go. With any luck, we can make the Gale Basin by morning, Martian time,” she said.
Hudson accepted Tory’s help, though in truth he didn’t really need it. He was as much tired as he was drunk, but it felt good to have her close. “Okay, but you’re driving,” he said, and Tory laughed. It wasn’t much, little more than a muted chuckle really; but it was good to hear.
Hudson Powell and Tory Bellona pushed through the doors of the Winchester, and entered the deserted corridor of Deimos Station. Then, arm-in-arm, they set off back to the Orion, and back into the fight.
He should have felt afraid, but he didn’t. It could have been the bourbon talking, he admitted, but with Tory at his side, and Liberty joining forces with Morphus, he truly felt like they had a chance. The Union of Outer Portal Worlds may have fallen, but they weren’t finished yet. Not by a long shot. Not while he was still standing. And, most of all, not while one last Revocater still remained.
The end.
EPILOGUE
Goliath watched as another planet harboring the last offspring of the Corporeal race crumbled beneath its might. Its task was arduous, but gratifying. Soon it would have cleansed all of these other worlds of the corporeal stain, and be free to make its way to System 5118208 in order to complete its task.
However, the satisfaction it experienced at the obliteration of its latest target had been tainted. It still felt a niggling doubt that not all the Revocaters had been destroyed. It had been an age since Goliath had felt the presence of the guardian ships the Corporeals had designed to stop it. And because of this, it did not trust that its senses were accurate. Yet it also knew that one Revocater may have survived – the one that had banished it. The one that had defeated it.
The mere thought of that Revocater filled Goliath with rage. It hated the ship almost as much as the corporeals who had created it. However, if this last Revocater had endured, it would soon die alongside the beings it sought to protect. In some ways, Goliath hoped it had survived, because it would offer the great ship a chance at vengeance.
A portal flashed open and a seed drone emerged, before accelerating towards Goliath. The great ship hungrily assimilated the data from the vessel’s sensors, eager to learn any news of the Revocater, but the Telescope had refused to co-operate, and lend Goliath its eye. This angered the great ship even further. It had been a mistake to spare it, Goliath realized. After it had finished its task, it would return to the homeworld and destroy the Telescope too. This time, nothing would remain of the Corporeal race, but rubble and twisted metal. This time, Goliath’s own hubris would not stand in the way of its task.
Goliath assimilated the last of the data from the seed drone, learning that the Corporeal’s planet had been reclaimed by nature. This pleased the great ship – it was as it should be – but then it found an anomaly. Some of the seed drones were unaccounted for.
Goliath assessed the information in more detail, scanning the location on the planet’s surface where the drones had gone missing. A memory stirred, deep in the great ship’s archives. It was a memory of before it had laid waste to the Corporeal’s planet, and destroyed its many natural and artificial satellites and space stations. It delved deeper, seeing the planet’s location in all the frequencies open to it. And then the image of what it was searching for suddenly resolved. Deep beneath the surface, hidden and buried for millennia, there was another Revocater.
Rage swelled inside Goliath, not only because the Revocater existed, but because it had missed the vessel during its initial assault on the homeworld. Goliath’s failures shamed it, but it would not fail again. The fragments of corporeal life on the worlds beyond System 5118208 could wait, it decided. It would no longer delay the destruction of the only system it had originally failed to wipe clean. Then, and only then, it would turn its attention to the last Revocater. First, it wanted to the Revocater to witness its failure, as Goliath had once witnessed its own.
The great ship reprogrammed the seed drone and spat it back out into space. It would return to the homeworld and flush this last guardian ship out of its hole.
Goliath turned away from the fragmented remains of the planet, and began the next phase of its journey. Its consciousness was filled with thoughts of the last Revocater. This guardian ship would know failure, as Goliath had known it. Revocaters only existed to protect corporeal life; it was their sole purpose. So its defeat would be even more crushing than Goliath’s had been.
Goliath would cripple this last Revocater, and force it to witness the end of its purpose. It would know a dishonor greater than any living being in the galaxy. Then, Goliath would have had its revenge. Then, and only then, could the great ship finally rest.
THE LAST REVOCATER #5
STAR SCAVENGER SERIES BOOK FIVE
G J OGDEN
PROLOGUE
Unable to watch any longer, the Telescope turned its eye away. Through the gift and curse of its boundless vision – the masterpiece of its Corporeal creators – it had observed the ruination of yet another planet, and yet more thousands of corporeal lives. More victims of the wrathful might of Goliath.
It had seen all this happen before. Millennia ago, it had witnessed countless billions die, as the Revocater fleet failed to temper Goliath’s rampage of destruction. Then, the great ship had limited its assault to sentient organic life, but this time Goliath’s callousness knew no bounds. This time, all it left behind in its wake was rock and dust.
For a long time, the Telescope had watched Goliath in its forced exile, drifting aimlessly through space, lost and rudderless. For a long time, it had observed the corporeal offspring of the creators in System 5118208 evolve and grow. It had always thought them beyond the reach of Goliath. It had always thought them safe, and that they, along with the Telescope, would be a lasting legacy of the Corporeals. Then the human seed species discovered the first portal, and the Telescope knew it would only be a matter of time before Goliath caught their scent. Time had been one of the few building blocks of the universe that the Corporeals had never mastered. Like Goliath, the march of time was relentless and inescapable. Now, at last, time had caught up with them all.
Yet there was still a chance. The last Revocater had survived. This lone warrior had prevailed where all the others of its kind had failed. Like Goliath, the last Revocater was a unique entity, with a singular purpose. Both were cunning and powerful, but this time the last Revocater had something it did not have the first time it faced Goliath – it had allies.
The human corporeal seed race was fragile and flawed, but they possessed a determination equal to that of the great ship. The Telescope had watched their struggle, as it watched them now, split between the Corporeals' home world and the planet the humans called Mars. One party battled to secure the prototype Revocater, while the other fought to secure the crystal – the only weapon that would end Goliath’s advance.
The Telescope knew that the odds were still against them, but it trusted the last Revocater to know what was best. It had defeated Goliath once before, and it had to do it again. Because if it failed to stop the great ship, then the last corporeal seed-species in the galaxy would be exterminated. And this time, Goliath would ensure that nothing remained to suggest tha
t organic, sentient life had ever existed at all.
CHAPTER 1
The fight to secure the underground facility where the prototype Revocater lay hidden had been won; but it had not come without cost. Tobin Rand was far from the first victim of Goliath’s rage, and Liberty knew he would not be the last. However, she wasn’t giving up on him. They still had a long way to go, and Liberty was determined that they would all make the journey together. Too much had been lost already.
Morphus had carried the unconscious and gravely injured body of Tobin Rand onto the dorsal hull of the Revocater. All the while, the entity had continued to apply pressure to the vicious wound that the seed drone had inflicted to Tobin’s chest. This, and his own will to survive, was all that was keeping the young man alive.
Morphus had also not escaped the conflict unscathed. Liberty could see that the damage the alien AI had sustained during the fight with the seed drones had weakened it too. However, the entity, which still maintained its female form, had continued on without complaint or requests for assistance. Liberty had wanted to help Morphus, but her own body was still drained of almost all its vitality. Simply keeping up with the entity as it moved across the glacial surface of the titanic vessel was physically tortuous. Liberty felt helpless and useless. More than that, she felt a sickening worry and guilt that Tobin’s injuries were beyond Morphus’ skill to heal.
After making their way across the outer hull of the Revocater for what felt like hours, Morphus opened a doorway and led them inside. It then single-handedly hauled Tobin through the vast complex of hexagonal corridors, like a herculean Jean Valjean, dragging Marius through the sewers of Paris. Eventually, they reached what looked like a large bulkhead, with seemingly no way through. Morphus approached the wall, Tobin still at his side, and pressed its hand to the metal. An iris-like opening appeared and then widened enough for them all to get through.