Rikkard's Revenge: A Military Sci-Fi Series (Darkspace Renegade Book 4)

by G J Ogden

  Hallam leant in closer. The components Dr. Rand had indicated all looked quite small, with the largest no bigger than an orange. “Should I remove my gloves first?” Hallam asked, concerned that in the heat of the moment, he’d accidentally apply too much pressure and break the precious tech. “I wouldn’t want to crush these things while I’m taking them out.”

  “You won’t,” replied Dr. Rand, pulling the metal storage case toward her. “Judging from the alien cadaver we observed while approaching the planet, these beings would have possessed incredible prehensile strength thanks to their eight powerful digits. Without the assistance from the armor, you would be unable to remove these components.”

  Dr. Rand then opened the metal case and removed a medical injector, which was the only object inside. Hallam had presumed it to have been empty and scowled at the implement as the scientist angled it toward him.

  “This will counteract the effects of the radiation for long enough to allow us to return to the system of bridge worlds,” Dr. Rand said. She then pointed to an attachment on the base of the device. “This will modify the dose according to the level of radiation exposure you receive. As soon as you have placed the components into the case, then close it and the panel exposing the bridge drive system, you must immediately inject this into your neck.” The scientist placed the device on the deck alongside the open case, then peered at Hallam with a look that made him instantly nervous. “Once we return, I will need to find a medical facility to treat you more fully,” the scientist added. “It is unfortunate that we had to abandon my hideout, since I had all the necessary equipment there.”

  Hallam snorted. “More unfortunate for me, I think…” he said, dwelling on his future prospects should Dr. Rand not be able to treat him for the effects of exposure.

  “Maybe Cad Rikkard didn’t destroy it,” suggested Dakota. “I doubt he had time to nuke the place before he took off after us.”

  Dr. Rand contemplated this possibility for a moment. “It is worth investigating,” she conceded. “However, we must first retrieve these components and navigate safely away from this star system.”

  Hallam let out a weary sigh, resigning himself to the unenviable task ahead. “In other words, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” he said, shooting a half-hearted smile at Dr. Rand. “I think it’s time you both put some distance between yourselves and this ship. It’s about to get a little hot in here.”

  Dr. Rand and Dakota stood up and made their way underneath the hatch. Sunlight was streaming in from outside, making the vessel feel like an oven warming up.

  “It’s getting pretty hot outside too,” said Dakota, shielding her eyes from the glare. “I think it’s jumped another five degrees already.”

  Dr. Rand nodded and added her own words of caution. “Limit your exposure as much as you can, Mr. Knight, and seal the objects inside the case quickly. We’ll meet you by the building outside. Between the hull of this ship and our armor, that will be a safe enough distance.”

  Dakota and Dr. Rand climbed out of the hatch, and Hallam gave them a solid couple of minutes to get clear of the ship. Then he turned his attention to the alien components. Wrapping his fingers around the first and largest component, he sucked in a deep breath and twisted. The component slid smoothly in a counterclockwise circle and Hallam heard a click. With more than a little reticence, he pulled it toward him and the object came free without any trouble. A strange red glow emanated from the two exposed ends of the machine where it had connected to the drive, and Hallam felt his stomach flutter. The subsequent swell of nausea only made him more anxious, as if the exposure was already doing him harm. Come on, get a grip… he told himself, placing the component into the case and moving swiftly on to the next one. Just get this done and then you can get the hell out of here.

  The second component came free as easily as the first, and again Hallam felt a kick of nausea as the glowing ends of the conduits were exposed. The third and fourth components also presented no problems. However, by the time Hallam had placed them both into the case, he knew the nausea was not simply down to nerves. His head was now swimming, and his skin felt clammy. Sucking in another breath, he grabbed the fifth component and twisted, but this time, it didn’t budge. “Come on, damn you!” Hallam growled, adding more pressure, and slowly, the object began to turn. Precious seconds ticked by and Hallam was starting to lose both his strength and his vision. Come on, come on! he urged himself, unwilling to let go and cut his losses, despite already having four of the five devices Dr. Rand wanted. Finally, the component clicked and Hallam yanked it free, tossing it into the case and slamming it shut. Shuffling back from the opening, he grabbed the thick panel and pressed it back in place over the drive section, sealing it shut with another satisfying click.

  Hallam shot upright, knowing he had to inject himself and get out of the alien vessel as quickly as possible, but the sudden movement made him dizzy. His eyes went dark and he felt a sharp pain to the back of his head before realizing that he’d fallen against the side wall. He shook his head, but he’d forgotten what he was supposed to be doing. The last thing he remembered he was sliding the metal covering back into place, but how long ago that was he had no idea. Hallam then spotted the injector still sitting beside the metal case, and he cursed, remembering that he had yet to administer the device. He crawled over to it, feeling dizzy and weak. Reaching for the injector, he clumsily knocked it further away, then his eyes went dark again. The feel of cold metal pressing against his face brought him back to his senses, and he discovered he was lying in his own drool. He saw the injector, but it was still tantalizingly out of his reach. He tried to stretch for it again, but he was too weary to move.

  At least when they come looking for me, they’ll find the case, Hallam thought as he allowed his face to drop back into the pool of his own spittle. That’s something, at least…

  Hallam thought he heard voices but was unable to tell if they were real or just his imagination. Then he felt himself being flipped over, and a blurry silhouette appeared above him, with a head that seemed wider than it was long. The image resolved and the alien he’d seen frozen in space was standing before him. He laughed, turning his head from side to side, seeing that the ship was alive with activity and a full crew of the alien beings.

  “We come in peace…” Hallam said out loud, laughing again. He realized that his mind must have been playing tricks on him, and played along. “Take me to your leader…” he added, though the words all slurred into one long, incomprehensible murmur. Then there was a hissing sound, like an angry snake, and Hallam flinched as he felt a sharp prick penetrate his skin. The alien is real, and it’s eating me! he thought, panic suddenly replacing his delirious hallucinations. “Don’t eat me!” Hallam cried out, and this time, the words sounded clearer in his ears. His vision began to sharpen, and the alien face was replaced with that of Dakota Wulfrun. She was staring down at him, looking as much confused as she was relieved.

  “Don’t eat you?” Dakota said, cocking an eyebrow at Hallam. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Hallam felt the dizziness and nausea recede like a fast-moving tide. It its place, he was overcome with a heady mix of relief, gratitude, and embarrassment.

  “Don’t ask…” said Hallam, accepting Dakota’s hand. She then hauled him upright, though Hallam was already feeling a lot stronger.

  Dakota waved the injector at Hallam. “Forgetting something?”

  Hallam took the device, and before Dakota realized what was happening, he’d pressed it to her neck. It hissed again, delivering a dose of Dr. Rand’s anti-radiation medication into Dakota’s blood stream.

  “Ow, Hal, what was that for?” Dakota complained, rubbing her neck.

  “You’re not radioresistant, Dak, so you need this more than I do,” said Hallam, picking up the metal case. “But thanks for checking on me, Dak. I owe you one.”

  Dakota rested a hand on the back of Hallam’s neck then gently pulled him closer an
d kissed him on the forehead. “That’s several you owe me, I should think, but you’re welcome,” she said with a warm smile. “Now let’s get out of here.”

  Dakota climbed out of the alien ship first, then Hallam passed her the case and pulled himself out too. He was met with a blast of dry heat from the blazing sun overhead and guessed that the temperature must have risen to at least ninety. The suit kept his body cool, but the contrast between his chilled insides and the roasting heat on his head did nothing to abate the residual nausea he was experiencing. They both jumped off the stricken alien vessel and ran to meet Dr. Rand, who was waiting by the large oval-shaped building. Dakota handed the scientist the shielded case and she took it, cradling it to her chest before meeting Hallam’s eyes with a concerned frown.

  “How are you feeling, Mr. Knight?” Dr. Rand asked, coming across sounding more like a psychiatrist than a physician.

  “I feel like I’m recovering from an all-night drinking session,” replied Hallam, shielding his head from the sun with his hand.

  Dr. Rand quickly examined Hallam, then tapped away at her palm computer, wearing a pensive scowl the whole time.

  “Just tell me straight, Doc,” said Hallam, already fearing the worst.

  The scientist lowered her arm and met Hallam’s eyes, though her apprehensive frown remained. “Miraculously, Mr. Knight, you appear to be fine,” Dr. Rand said, and Hallam felt his knees go weak. If it wasn’t for the power assistance of his armor, he’d probably have fallen down. “As are you, Miss Wulfrun,” the scientist added, glaring at Dakota. “That was very brave, young lady, but also rather foolish. You are lucky that Mr. Knight injected you immediately, otherwise we would now be in a very different situation.”

  “Maybe fortune favors the brave after all,” said Dakota, tapping the metal case in Dr. Rand’s arms. “I think we’ll need a lot more of both before we’re through.”

  “I suspect you are correct, Miss Wulfrun,” replied Dr. Rand with a fatalistic air. She then gestured to the door of the alien building they had gathered beside. “Unfortunately, the ground quakes destroyed many of the buildings adjacent to this facility, cutting off our exit. We will have to go through this building and detour along the unaffected streets to reach the ship.”

  Hallam used his augmented strength to force open the door to the oval-shaped building. “Anything to get me out of this sun,” he said, slipping inside. “I just hope the ship hasn’t taken any damage.”

  Compared to the heat of the outside, the inside of the building still felt cool and fresh. However, it was also pitch black, save for the light bleeding through the open doorway. Dr. Rand and Dakota followed him inside, and the scientist used her palm computer as a torch to help guide the way.

  “I wonder what this place was used for?” said Hallam, pulling open random doors and what looked like cupboards or storage areas. “A passenger terminal building maybe?”

  “I would rather you not randomly open every door you find, Mr. Knight,” said Dr. Rand, sounding like a teacher scolding an unruly pupil on a field trip. “We do not know what may be contained inside this structure.”

  Hallam snorted. “I’ve already had my one alien encounter for the day, Doc,” he said, recalling the face of the dead alien that they’d collided with before landing on the planet. “It’s smooth sailing from here on in.” Hallam then forced open another compartment door and found himself staring directly at an alien warbot, not unlike the one they had encountered on Doyle’s rogue world. Hallam jumped back and cursed. Dakota ran to his side then did a double-take at the machine.

  “Damn it, Hal, stop messing around!” Dakota snapped, punching Hallam on the arm. “The last thing we need is to be chased around alien backstreets by one of these lunatic machines.”

  Dr. Rand hurriedly scanned the bot with her palm computer, presumably attempting to work out if the machine was still active. However, for once, Hallam already knew the answer before the genius scientist did, because set within the cranial unit of the alien machine was a thin, glowing blue eye.

  12

  The single line of blue light in the alien warbot’s cranial unit narrowed to a vee and focused on Hallam. It then stepped out of the compartment in the wall, shaking off thousands of years’ worth of accumulated dust, and emitted a rapid jumble of high-pitched warbles. Hallam backed away, holding up his hands in the hopeless expectation that the alien machine would understand such a gesture. Yet the warbot continued to advance, flexing and shaking loose its limbs like someone waking from a long, deep sleep.

  “Doc, what do we do?” said Hallam, hopeful that the genius scientist had some brilliant idea to deactivate the alien machine. However, Dr. Rand looked just as terrified and as clueless as Hallam did.

  “Not activating it in the first place would have been my suggestion, Mr. Knight,” Dr. Rand replied snarkily. “I suggest we all continue to back away slowly and move toward the exit. With any luck, it will just leave us alone…”

  The machine turned its vee-shaped blue eye to the scientist as she spoke, then regarded Dakota with equal intensity. All the while, it continued to emit the same warble of noise, repeated over and over again. It was like the warbot was repeating a question or a demand and growing frustrated at being ignored.

  “WE ARE JUST LEAVING…” said Hallam, speaking slowly and loudly like an ignorant monolingual tourist.

  The warbot’s eye than landed on the case that Dr. Rand was carrying. The thin blue line briefly transformed into a chaotic waveform, as if the machine’s cranial unit had suddenly become an oscilloscope. A whole new array of squawks and warbles then followed, all as incomprehensible as the others.

  Dr. Rand’s palm computer then started bleeping, and she checked it hurriedly. “The machine is scanning us,” said Dr. Rand, frowning down at the computer. “Or, to be precise, it is scanning the case.”

  The warbot raised its long, claw-tipped arm and pointed at the metal case, then uttered another garbled mix of squawks and warbles. To Hallam’s ears, they came across sounding more aggressive, despite him having no evidence to believe so. He glanced at Dr. Rand, but the look on her face suggested in no uncertain terms that she was not about to give up the alien components. Instead, she had clamped the container tightly to her chest while retreating at an even faster pace.

  “It may believe we are thieves,” said Dr. Rand, offering the first and only theory as to the machine’s behavior. “I encountered several of these bots on my first expedition. We came to believe that they were guardians of some kind. Perhaps enforcers of the law.”

  Hallam continued to slowly back away, but the machine matched him step for step. It continued to utter its string of warbles, with each statement growing louder and more urgent. “Something tells me this thing isn’t going to take no for an answer,” he said, watching the machine’s vee-shaped eye sharpen into an arrowhead.

  The warbot then appeared to notice that Hallam and the others were nearing the door. It gave up on its attempts to communicate and adjusted its stance, raising its claw-tipped arms in front of its body. Hallam may not have known the language the alien machine was speaking, but he understood its newly-adopted posture well enough. The language of violence needed no translation. A fight was the last thing Hallam wanted. He had already seen a similar warbot in action before, against Cad Rikkard on Doyle’s rogue world, so he knew its capabilities were not to be underestimated. However, unlike Cad, who had wielded his medieval sword against the machine, Hallam was unarmed. The warbot uttered another warble, louder and more guttural, like fingernails scraping across a chalkboard. Perhaps it was an ultimatum, Hallam guessed, but one thing he knew for sure was the machine wasn’t going to let them leave.

  “Doc, run!” Hallam cried, squaring off against the machine, and hoping that his advanced power armor was as formidable as Cad Rikkard made it seem.

  “That machine possesses twice your strength, even accounting for the armor,” Dr. Rand called back, backpedaling faster than ever. “I do not beli
eve that fighting it alone is wise…”

  Dakota stepped beside Hallam and also raised her guard. “Then it’s a good job there’s two of us,” she said as the narrow vee-shaped eye of the warbot adjusted its focus to her. “We’ll hold it off while you run back to the ship and get it fired up.”

  The warbot let out another rasping warble, this time aimed at Dakota, but Hallam was not about to let it make the first move. He stepped forward and threw a series of powerful punches, slamming his armored fists into the wide head of the machine. Each blow landed cleanly, sounding like a hammer striking an anvil. However, while the machine staggered back from the force of the impacts, it remained standing. And, other than a few dents to its cranial unit, it also appeared undamaged.

  Dakota then advanced, taking advantage of the warbot’s momentarily unsettled footing. However, she misjudged the speed with which the machine was able to recover, and was caught solidly on the chest by one of its long arms. The blow sent her crashing through the side wall and into the cavity behind it.

  Hallam wanted to call out to her, to check she was okay, but there was no time. The alien machine had quickly turned its attention back to him, blue eye aimed at him like a dagger. The warbot swung at him, but Hallam caught the claw-like appendage and tried to force the machine back. The gears and motors in his power armor groaned from the immense strain of the contest. Yet despite applying the full measure of the suit’s not inconsiderable power, Hallam could not overcome the machine and was thumped against the wall opposite to Dakota. The machine let out a shrill warble and tried to grab Hallam with its other claw-like hand, but before its grip had closed around Hallam’s arm, Dakota pounced from the rear, hammering strikes into the machine’s head and back. The warbot spun around and swung at Dakota, missing her face barely by an inch. Hallam took his chance and drove a kick into the base of the machine’s spine and forced it down onto its knees. Hallam and Dakota both followed up with wild haymakers. Both punches struck true, sandwiching the machine’s cranial unit between their armored fists. This time, the warbot fell, and appeared to be momentarily disorientated. Hallam tried to strike it again, but the machine rolled away, displaying amazing spatial awareness and intelligence. Hallam could see two more deep dents in its cranium, but the warbot was still remarkably undamaged. He looked at his metal gauntlet and realized the same could not be said for his power armor. The glove had cracked in the process of pummeling the machine, and Hallam was suddenly aware of pain shooting along his entire arm. He knew his suit would break before the warbot did, which meant retreat was their only option.