Renegade Atlas

by J. N. Chaney

  “Jace!” yelled Abigail, stopping a few meters after the turn. “Stop!”

  “What the hell for?!” I asked, turning to see her holding Bolin, his arm around her shoulder. He was holding his other hand up, blood dripping from the place his finger used to be.

  “Problem!”

  I doubled back, almost sliding in the gravel. It took me a few seconds to get to them. “Can you keep going?”

  “I-I think…I think so,” Bolin said.

  I grabbed the rag from his pocket and wrapped it around his fucked-up hand. “Keep your shit together and move!”

  The soldiers weren’t far behind us. There wasn’t enough time to deal with a gunshot.

  As if to answer me, Abigail said, “We can’t leave him here, Jace!”

  “Dammit, Abby,” I said, taking the shopkeeper’s other arm and throwing it over my shoulder.

  We kept moving, trying to keep our pace. A siren began ringing through the intercom system in the dome. “EMERGENCY ALERT. CRIMINAL ACTIVITY IN PROGRESS. PLEASE RETURN TO YOUR HOMES.”

  “That must be us,” I said as we stumbled through the street. I tapped the com in my ear. “Siggy, can you hear me?”

  “Yes, sir,” answered Sigmond.

  “Start the goddamn ship! We’re almost there!”

  “Of course, sir. Preparing for launch.”

  “What about the others?” asked Abigail.

  “Siggy, where’s the rest of the crew?” I asked.

  “With the exception of yourselves, all personnel are safely aboard the ship, sir.”

  “Good, tell everyone to strap in and get ready. We’re almost there.”

  “Acknowledged, sir.”

  I glanced behind me and spotted a few soldiers making the turn to our street. “Hurry up!” I barked.

  The exit was just before us. A dozen more meters and we’d be in the clear.

  Shots fired from behind. “Stop where you are!” yelled one of the men.

  I let go of Bolin’s arm. “Get him on the ship!” I said. I pulled out my pistol and fired a quick two shots. “I’ll be there in a second!”

  Abigail didn’t bother arguing. Maybe she finally understood how orders worked. “Fat chance,” I said, popping another two shots off.

  I dropped behind a nearby vehicle, hoping it would make decent cover, and continued firing at the soldiers. The first shot went wide and shattered a storefront window, but the second and third hit one in the shoulder and thigh. The fourth hit struck a soldier’s rifle and nearly knocked him on his ass.

  I took cover again, reloading.

  A steady stream of bullets continued to fly above my head, bursting out the glass and rocking the vehicle. I felt the impact through my body as I kept my head down and hugged the front of the car.

  I leaned beneath the vehicle’s underbelly, firing six shots in quick succession and hitting two of the men in the feet. The second they hit the ground, I unloaded on them. “Siggy, if you have any ideas on how to get out of this, I’m all ears!”

  “One moment, sir. I’ll attempt to hack their security network to cancel the alert.”

  “That won’t do any good! What about the people trying to kill me?”

  “I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do about that, sir.”

  I reached inside my belt and withdrew my emergency smoke grenade. “Fuck me,” I muttered, throwing it over the back of my head.

  It landed a few meters in front of the still-standing soldiers. “Grenade!” yelled one as they scrambled to take cover.

  Using the hood of the car, I leveled my barrel and fired rapidly into the smoke. I couldn’t see anything, but several screams followed.

  A good sign.

  I heard a voice from close by. “What are you doing?!”

  I snapped my eyes around.

  Not far from my position, sitting behind one the stalls, I saw the same merchant who’d tried to sell me weapons when I first entered this godforsaken town. He was hiding beneath his stall, looking at me with a rattled expression. “Get your ass out of here before you get yourself killed, moron!” I told him.

  “I can’t leave my merchandise!” he said. “What did you do to piss off security?!”

  “I shot one of them,” I said, pulling my pistol around my head and firing three more shots. I heard a scream and guessed I landed one.

  Bullets continued to strike the side of the vehicle, denting the metal and popping two of the tires.

  I reached for another magazine, but noticed I was out.

  The merchant ducked behind his stall when a Sarkonian bullet nearly blew his head off. A second later, he leaned out the other side.

  “Got any ammo back there?” I asked him, quickly.

  He raised his brow. “I can sell you some bullets,” he said, reaching into his stall. “That’s a Z91, right? Hold on.”

  The shift in his tone took me by surprise. He’d gone from petrified to professional in ten seconds flat. “Yeah, think you can handle that?”

  “Of course,” he said. “I’ll sell you a few magazines if you can transfer the money.” He showed me a credit pad.

  Another burst of gunfire struck the car beside me. “Okay! How much for two magazines?”

  He pursed his mouth. “Let’s say, five hundred each.”

  “Five hundred credits? Are you serious? The sign over there says you have the cheapest prices in the sector.”

  “What can I say?” He grinned. “Demand has skyrocketed.”

  I started to tell him to toss the mags, but stopped myself. Why was I only going for more ammo when I had an arms dealer right in front of me? “What else you got?” I asked.

  He gave me a sly smile. “What do you want?”

  “How about some grenades?”

  He stuck a hand inside his stall and brought out a small box. “Whatever you want, sir. Eight hundred creds for two.”

  I tapped my ear. “Siggy transfer one thousand, eight hundred credits to the asshole arms dealer named…” I paused. “Hey, jackass, what’s your name?”

  “Garin Shill,” he said.

  Even the fucker’s name sounded sleezy.

  Garin watched his pad for clarification, grinning once the transfer came through. “There it is!” he said, and tossed the first magazine to me. “Happy doing business with you, friend!”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, catching and sliding the bullets into my pistol. “Damn crook.”

  He followed with the second magazine, which I stowed in my belt for now, and finally the grenades.

  “Move forward!” I heard a man’s voice yell. “He has to be out by now!”

  I smirked. “Not anymore.”

  * * *

  By the time I had the second magazine inserted, I still hadn’t made any progress. The Sarkonian soldiers were keeping their distance, refusing to let me get clear of this spot. I wondered how much more this vehicle could take before a bullet managed to tear its way through and into my flesh.

  I eased up along the front of the car, trying to aim, but another shit hit the hood, forcing me down. “Give up, Renegade!” yelled a familiar voice.

  That sounds like that Mercer woman, I thought. “I see you’re awake!” I yelled back.

  “Don’t think you’ll get away with that!”

  I took a breath, glancing at the exit. It was only a dozen yards from here, but the corridor went on for a bit before the first turn. I might get shot in the back if I tried, but I couldn’t wait here to get caught.

  I shot at the group again. I didn’t wait to see the damage, but I knew I’d struck one guy in the waist and another in the crotch. Not a bad combo.

  “That’s enough, Captain Hughes!” barked Mercer. “I don’t want to kill you, but I will if I have to!”

  “I think you might have to, because I’m not letting you collect that bounty!” I yelled.

  The merchant was still bunkered down at his shop, watching me. I wondered how long he’d wait before the money was no longer worth it.

 
“Hey, asshole, gimme something bigger!” I yelled. “I need a fucking army!”

  “You’ll want the black-label merchandise, then,” said Garin. He reached under his shirt for a small locket, then swept it across the stall’s side. The wall slid open, revealing a hidden compartment.

  “What the fuck is that?” I asked.

  He grinned, opening it. “Ever heard of a Howlizter 47?”

  My eyes widened. “No way,” I muttered.

  He pulled the gun out of the box—a small enough weapon that you could trick the untrained eye into thinking it was nothing more than a pistol, but I knew what a Howlizter looked like. The three-centimeter grip housing the micro-generator gave it away, along with the silver-lined trim surrounding it. “Catch!” he yelled, tossing the gun in the air, high above our heads.

  I caught it, tossing my own pistol to my other hand in the process. The weight felt good as I wrapped my fingers around the tiny death cannon.

  “You’ll want to prime the generator by pressing that red button next to the trigger,” said Garin.

  I ran my index finger along the side, finding it. “There we go,” I said, pressing it.

  The gun hummed gently in my palm. “Purs like a dream, doesn’t she?” asked Garin.

  “Last chance, Hughes!” yelled Mercer.

  I looked at Garin. “Better keep your head down!” I told him, then set my finger on the trigger and turned with my arm extended, taking aim at the small army.

  I squeezed it, and a beam of red energy exploded from the barrel of the cannon, cutting through the nearby vehicles, slicing a line straight through their tops. Glass shattered in six cars instantly as my hand swept across the battlefield.

  The Sarkonians dived out of the way, avoiding the beam as it moved across the place their heads had been. One was too slow, and the hot light cut through his wrist, slicing his hand clean off, along with the rifle he’d been holding. He screamed in a panic.

  The laser stopped after a few seconds. I turned to look at Garin, who gave me a shrug. “It’s only good for one shot,” he told me.

  “You mother fuck—”

  Gunfire broke up my sentence as the soldiers got back on their feet. Mercer shouted something I couldn’t understand, and then she motioned to one of the soldiers, who handed her something.

  She threw them in my direction, but they landed closer to Garin, rolling a few meters closer to him.

  “Oh, shit,” I said. “Grenades! Get out of—”

  The explosion threw me back against the vehicle beside me, and I felt a wave of heat as I shielded my face. When I took my arm down, I saw a hole where the stall used to be.

  Goddammit, Garin.

  A figure appeared from the exit tunnel, but they were hard to make out through the grenade smoke. “Jace?! Where are you?”

  “Who is that?” I asked.

  As the smoke lifted, I saw Abigail standing in the tunnel, looking in my direction. She was holding something.

  Something big.

  “Abby? What the fuck are you…is that what I think it is?!” I shouted.

  She didn’t answer. Not with words, anyway. Instead, I got my confirmation when she propped up the massive quad cannon in her arms and fired an explosive shot toward the Sarkonians. The blast sent her flying back, into the hover cart she’d used to carry the other half of the equipment.

  The bomb hit the ground between me and the military, shattered the concrete and sending multiple vehicles into the nearby buildings.

  The entire dome echoed with thunder. My ears rang so loud I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to hear again. Before I could get back on my feet, I felt Abigail’s hands on my wrist, pulling me up. “Come on!” she yelled into my face.

  I blinked a few times, dragging myself up. Before I knew it, I was running behind her, passing by the quad cannon. “Wait!” I shouted. “I need this!”

  I grabbed hold of it and lifted it onto the floating cart, pushing the bulky cannon through the hall. Abigail got beside me and helped.

  When we made the turn at the end of the corridor, heading toward the open hangar, Abigail turned to me and said, “You could at least say thank you!”

  “And give you the satisfaction?” I asked, still screaming over the ringing in my ears. “I’d never live it down!”

  * * *

  The airlock closed and I ran to the bridge, ready to give the order to leave, when I heard Freddie’s voice. “Someone’s outside!”

  “Of course they are!” I returned. “We’ve got Sarkonians after us!”

  “No, it’s not a soldier,” he said.

  Hitchens ran to the window. “He’s right! It appears to be a young girl.”

  “A girl?” asked Bolin, who was sitting on the couch. Octavia was in the process of bandaging his back shoulder, but he pushed himself up. “What does she look like?”

  “It’s Camilla,” said Abigail. “Quickly, Sigmond, open the door!”

  “Understood,” said the A.I.

  I looked outside to see the preteen running to the airlock, and shrugged. “Get her inside if you want. I’m getting us out of here in two minutes!”

  I hustled to the cockpit, fastening my harness as soon as I was in the chair. “Siggy, tell me the second we’re ready for lift-off.”

  “Acknowledged,” he answered. Roughly ten seconds later, he followed it with, “All systems are ready for take-off.”

  “Is the girl onboard?” I asked. “Camilla.”

  “She just entered,” Siggy informed me. “Closing the airlock now.”

  “Good,” I said, flipping the ignition switch. We lifted off the ground, hovering momentarily, and then blasted forward in a damn hurry, breaking half-a-dozen flight laws in the process.

  Several of the nearby ships wavered in place, but none took any serious damage. In a few short seconds, we were clear of the moon.

  “Any pursuing ships?” I asked, quickly.

  “None so far,” said Sigmond.

  I breathed a sigh of relief. “Let’s get gone,” I said, leaning back in my seat. “I think I’ve had my fill of people for today.”

  Eight

  Bolin was in tears, hugging his little girl when I came back into the lounge. His hand was still wrapped and bleeding, but he barely seemed to notice. All his focus was on his daughter.

  “Papa, I’m okay,” she said, her voice muffled as he squeezed her.

  “My little girl!” he cried.

  “You’re both safe now,” said Abigail. “That’s what matters.”

  “Everyone good?” I asked, looking at each of them. No one, aside from Bolin, appeared to have any injuries.

  I also spotted Lex next to Octavia, watching the entire scene, a curious look on her face.

  “Thank you so much for getting us out of there,” said Bolin, turning to me. He had wide eyes and his cheeks were red from all the crying.

  “We’re cloaked and on the move,” I explained. “The tunnel isn’t far. We were headed to a space station, not far from here. If you want, you can find an outbound ship to take you away from the border. I’d recommend getting as far from Sarkonian space as possible. I’m sure you’re wanted fugitives by now.”

  The girl looked at her father. “What are we going to do now?”

  “I don’t know, Camilla. I suppose we’ll have to start over.”

  She frowned, sniffling. “I didn’t mean to get you in trouble, Papa.”

  “It’s not your fault. I never should have gone to that awful place.”

  It actually is her fault, since she stole that box in her arm, I thought, but kept my mouth shut.

  “We should have left the second we arrived. I was a fool to think it had what we needed,” said Bolin.

  “Which was, what, exactly?” I asked.

  They both looked at me.

  I decided to clarify. “What did you go to that moon for?”

  “Opportunity,” said Bolin. “I wanted a fresh start. We both did.”

  “A fresh start from what
?” asked Octavia.

  “The Sarkonian Empire invaded our system,” explained Bolin. “The occupation forced people to leave, and now most are scattered across the system. The new government began offering work a few months later, so I took one.” He shook his head. “I didn’t want to, but it was the only job I could find.”

  “I get it,” I said. “Gotta do what you can to survive.”

  “Exactly. The Sarkonians won’t let you leave their territory once they consider you a citizen, so I could only take what I found. This was the best option.” He dropped his head. “Gods, listen to me.”

  “It’s okay, Bolin. You did the best you could,” said Freddie.

  “I almost lost my daughter today,” he muttered. “I’ll never forgive myself.”

  “But you didn’t lose her,” I said.

  “No thanks to me,” he answered. “It was you, sir. You saved her.”

  I fanned my hand at him. “She saved herself.”

  I returned to the front of the ship right as we approached the next tunnel. A rift formed and we went in, leaving the colony behind and, with any luck, the Sarkonians with it.

  * * *

  I gave Camilla my room while Bolin slept on the couch. It was fine, since I preferred to stay at the helm. Our flight time through the tunnel was short, so all I could afford was a nap. It would have been a decent one if Hitchens hadn’t come knocking, interrupting me.

  “Sorry to bother you,” he said, stepping into the cockpit. He was entirely too fat to be here, but I didn’t say anything.

  “What is it?” I asked, hoping to cut through the small talk.

  “With everything happening, I was never able to follow up with you.”

  I wiped my eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Back in the lounge, when Lex and I were opening that box. I asked if I could speak with you about something. It was actually rather urgent, but the situation escalated and—”

  I held up a hand. “I get it.”

  He nodded. “Right, of course,” he said, continuing. “It’s about the star chart and our current heading.”

  “Oh?” I asked. “You find a better route?”