by G J Ogden
Dakota chuckled, but then they were both distracted by a commotion over at another table in the main bar area. A group of people were playing cards – some variation on poker that Hallam had never been able to get his head around. From the heated hand waving and raised voices, it looked like there was a disagreement over who had won the money.
The table had three players. Two looked like regular joes; either other tanker pilots – though Hallam didn’t recognize them – or possibly off-duty enforcers. They certainly looked thuggish enough to qualify as Consortium heavies. The third player, however, stood out like a sore thumb. He was a rough-shaven man who looked to be in his mid-to-late thirties, with a buzz-cut hairstyle that smacked of a current or ex-military background. He wore it well, and from the quality of his clothing, which despite lacking any sort of camouflage pattern was clearly tactical in nature, he looked well-to-do.
The man was flanked by two women, both wearing a similar style of clothing. However, besides their apparel, they couldn’t have looked more different. The first was younger, perhaps in her mid-twenties, and clearly took care of her appearance. She was elegant almost to the point of being chic, despite the tactical nature of her clothing, and wore a distinctive, black raven-skull pendant around her neck. The eyes of the skull glistened under the bar’s lights, as if they were precious stones, which Hallam guessed they probably were.
The second woman was older, perhaps closer to the man’s age, and also striking, if for very different reasons. She wasn’t unkempt but had a harder edge to her looks, which was exacerbated by the unique lightning-strike black eyeliner, which circled her eyes, before lashing out across her temples. She had the look of someone who was perpetually angry, and out of all the people in the bar, Hallam instinctively knew she was the most dangerous.
Hallam and Dakota continued to watch as the two other men rose, pushing their chairs back with an uncomfortable screech. Dakota flashed her eyes at Hallam and shifted in her seat to get a better view; they both enjoyed watching a good bar fight, and she obviously sensed that one was brewing. However, then the rough-shaven man rose to his feet and said something that Hallam didn’t manage to overhear, and the two heavies suddenly stood down and backed away.
“Aw, dammit, it looks like those two have chickened out,” said Dakota with the sort of whiny tone of a teenager who had just been grounded. “I was looking forward to seeing how those two brutes handled themselves against action man and his two dark disciples.”
Hallam smiled, assuming that Dakota was referring to the rough-shaven man and his cohort. “It’s probably for the best; those three don’t look like they’re the sort to mess around.”
Dakota frowned and peered back at Hallam as if he were a stranger who’d just sat down at her table. “You’re telling me you don’t know who they are?”
Hallam shook his head. “Should I?”
“That’s the Blackfire Squadron,” said Dakota enigmatically. “The guy is Cad Rikkard, only the most famous mercenary in all twelve systems, and Earth to boot,” she continued, maintaining her mysterious tone of voice.
“Cad Rikkard?” replied Hallam, frowning. “Is that his real name or the name he uses on the ‘Flirty Mercenaries Hook-Up’ website?”
“Is that a real thing?” asked Dakota.
Hallam snorted. “How would I know?” Then he glanced back at the trio, who seemed to be collecting their belongings. “So who are the dynamic duo that are with him?”
“The one with the funky eyeliner is Draga Vex…”
Hallam snorted again. “Now I know you’re yanking my chain,” but Dakota shot him a dirty look and he shut up and let her continue.
“She grew up on Vediovis, and has a real dark streak, just like her eyeliner,” Dakota went on.
“Vediovis?” said Hallam, feeling a shiver rattle down his spine as he remembered his last trip there. “She must be made of titanium to have crawled her way off that rock and made something of herself.”
Vediovis used to be the primary mineral and resource mining planet, right up until they discovered Pomona, the tenth bridge world, Hallam remembered. Pomona was so resource-rich that all the major mining guilds quickly switched their operations, leaving the population of Vediovis high and dry, and jobless. Criminal gangs swooped in to offer an alternative source of work, which was primarily cultivating drugs. Those that didn’t work in the fields ended up in the underworld sex industry, which became the only reason for any off-worlder to dare to visit the planet. Even so, most sane people avoided Vediovis like the plague, and those that did visit typically left with a new disease or addiction of one sort or another.
“And what about the catwalk model turned assassin?” Hallam went on, now casting his eyes over to the younger of the two women. “Let me guess, her name is ‘Ivana Spendalot’?”
“Very droll,” said Dakota, rolling her eyes, “but, unsurprisingly, incorrect. That’s Alexis Black, although you’re on the money about her being rich and loving to flaunt it. She has a subtler way of going about her business, but together with Draga, they’re a pretty mean tag team, like sugar and spice.”
“So these guys are hired guns?” asked Hallam, more intrigued than ever.
Dakota nodded. “Rikkard was a US Space Force Marine, special ops, but rumor has it that he rubbed the chain of command up the wrong way, and so never advanced past captain. He left and started his own private army out on Pomona, just after it was founded, and made his money fighting off all the pirates and criminal gangs looking to steal the mountains of precious metals and minerals they were digging up out there.”
Hallam nodded, beginning to get an understanding of why the two heavies quickly decided to back down and scarper.
“You see that long belt-like thing draping from Rikkard’s waist?” said Dakota, rousing Hallam from his daydream. Hallam looked over and spotted the object, but had no idea what it was. “That’s a scabbard…” Dakota continued, answering the question, before Hallam had time to ask it.
Hallam snorted again. “Come on, you expect me to believe that guy wears a sword?”
Dakota nodded and flashed her eyes. “Believe it… It’s an old medieval-style one. And get this; it’s called a Black Prince sword…”
Hallam wafted a hand at Dakota dismissively. “This is too much, even for you,” he said, trying to convince himself that Dakota was just pulling another one of her tricks on him. Yet, over the last few months, he’d learned to read Dakota’s tells, and in his gut, he knew she was telling the truth.
Hallam turned away from the mercenary trio and looked back at Dakota, frowning again. “How come you know so much about these guys anyway?” he asked. “I doubt you came across many mercs ferrying scientists and other nerds around the peaceful and safe forests of Fortuna and Tellus.”
“I take an interest in more than just what’s in front of my nose, unlike you,” Dakota hit back. “And I’d still be flying those ‘nerds’ on their scientific expeditions, if it weren’t for the Consortium buying up the company and shutting us down. Ignorant assholes…”
Mention of the Consortium and how they ruined her previous career was one of the few triggers that managed to crack Dakota’s normally unbreakable aura of cheerfulness. Hallam hadn’t meant to reopen the old wound and regretted having brought it up, because he could see that Dakota’s mood had turned blacker than Draga Vex’s eyeliner.
Hallam was then distracted by Cad Rikkard and his crew, who were now heading toward the door. Alexis had hung back with Cad and had her arm draped over his shoulder, while she gloated about their winnings. Draga Vex had moved out ahead and appeared annoyed by the others’ dallying. She turned around to hurry them on, walking backwards toward the door as she did so. Then there was a loud crash, as Draga backed straight into the robot waiter, sending it, and the plates it was carrying, crashing to the floor right next to Hallam’s table.
Hallam looked down at the mess and saw that the food that had just been spread across the dimpled metal floor of t
he bar was theirs.
“Oops…” said Draga, looking at the flailing robot and the mess she’d caused before turning back to her companions and adding, “I guess robo-waiter here should have been watching where it was going.”
Alexis laughed, and even the stoic-looking male mercenary appeared to smile, but before Hallam knew what was happening, Dakota had sprung to her feet and squared off against Draga.
4
Dakota’s hands were already balled into fists as she stepped up to confront the mercenary, Draga Vex. Hallam could see that Dakota was still fuming from being reminded how the Consortium shut down her business. Unfortunately, Draga Vex had inadvertently become the target for Dakota’s venting anger. She couldn’t have picked a worse target if she’d tried. Hallam knew that Dakota was more than capable of handling herself, but after what she’d just told him about the striking female hired gun, he hoped she hadn’t bitten off more than she could chew.
“Oh, well done, Elvira. Why don’t you look where you’re going?” Dakota snarled.
Draga Vex turned around slowly and scowled at Dakota. They were roughly the same height, but Draga had a good twenty pounds on Dakota, and none of it looked soft.
“Why don’t you sit your ass down before I put you down?” replied Draga, jabbing a finger into Dakota’s sternum.
It was like the female mercenary had just flipped a pressure valve. Dakota surged forward and shoved Draga hard to the chest, sending her staggering back. She clearly hadn’t expected Dakota to attack her and was caught off-guard, tumbling over an adjacent table and scattering yet more plates and drinks to the floor.
Alexis Black unwrapped her arm from around Cad Rikkard’s neck and surged toward Dakota, but the mercenary was immediately hit with a powerful right cross and sent down. Cad’s face, calm and impassive up to that point, now twisted with anger. Evidently, Dakota laying out Alexis had triggered something inside him that suggested their relationship was more than just professional. The mercenary grabbed a steak knife from the table behind him and stalked toward Dakota, whose guard was raised. Then Draga appeared at Dakota’s side and slammed a punch to her head before grasping Dakota’s arms and holding them back.
Hallam sprang up, propelling his chair out behind him, and blocked Cad’s path, but then the blade swung and he felt a stinging sensation on his left shoulder. Blood wet his shirt, and he pressed a hand to the wound, more surprised by it than in pain.
“Get out of the way, or the next cut will be to your throat!” growled Cad as Alexis Black climbed to her feet beside him, looking equally furious.
“You’re not getting past, so just back the hell away!” said Hallam, raising open palms toward the mercenary. Blood dripped from his right hand and splattered on the floor, coloring his scattered golden yellow fries with a splash of red.
Cad didn’t respond in words and just thrust the blade toward Hallam, but his own prior CSF training kicked in. He dodged the angry strike and stripped the weapon from Cad’s hand, then thrust a kick to the man’s gut. The mercenary staggered back a couple of paces but didn’t appear to be hurt.
“Kill them!” yelled Alexis, suddenly looking wild-eyed and feral.
The door to the bar then swished open and heavy boots thudded inside, shortly followed by forceful shouts of “Hands on your heads, now!”
Hallam glanced behind to see three Consortium heavies, equipped with sidearms.
“You, let her go and hands on your head. Do it now!” the lead heavy yelled, aiming the order at Draga Vex. The female mercenary reluctantly complied, shoving Dakota into Hallam’s back before stepping away and lightly touching her fingertips to her temples.
Hallam and Dakota pressed their hands to their heads, while the red-faced Cad and Alexis did also, but with the same half-hearted disdain as Draga Vex.
“It’s okay, we were just having a light disagreement with the gentleman and lady here,” said Cad, lowering his hands and turning toward the lead CSF heavy.
“Keep your hands…” the heavy began, but then he seemed to recognize Cad and cut his sentence short. “Mr. Rikkard, I didn’t know it was you,” he continued, and Hallam realized their sudden reprieve may have been short-lived.
“Not to worry,” said Cad smoothly. “Like I said, this was just a simple disagreement, nothing to concern yourself with.” Then Cad turned to Hallam and shot him a saccharin smile. “Isn’t that right, Mr.…?”
“Knight, Hallam Knight,” answered Hallam, also lowering his hands. Then he turned to the security heavy. “And yes, it was just a misunderstanding. I’m sorry for the disruption.”
All the others now lowered their hands, and the heavies also lowered their weapons. Hallam took a breath and glanced at Dakota, who still looked furious. She wasn’t one to back out of a fight, and in her book, Draga Vex had finished theirs with the upper hand.
“I’ll pay for the damages and to replace the food that my associate accidentally knocked over,” Cad continued. “I assume that will be satisfactory?”
The lead heavy holstered his weapon, prompting his companions to do the same.
“Yes, that will be satisfactory, Mr. Rikkard, thank you,” replied the heavy, turning to Hallam. “If you’d like to take a seat at another table, we’ll see that a medic attends to your wound.”
“Don’t we get a say in this?” snapped Dakota, throwing her hands out wide. “That asshole attacks someone with a knife, and you just let him off without even a slapped wrist.”
The enforcer’s face hardened a touch. “Mr. Rikkard is a trusted partner of the Consortium, and I take him at his word,” he replied, pointing an accusatory finger at Dakota. “You, on the other hand, have already been warned once today. I strongly suggest you do as I say.”
Dakota looked ready to argue back again, but Hallam was quick to intervene, keen to prevent the situation from flaring back up.
“That’s fine; we’ll just take a seat at the table back there and wait for our food,” said Hallam, ushering Dakota away. She still looked pumped up, and spoiling for a fight.
Cad stepped deftly between the mess of food and crockery on the floor and stood at Draga’s side. Alexis Black circled around behind the group of enforcers, before joining her companions.
“My apologies again, Mr. Knight,” said Cad with the same smooth but insincere politeness. “Until we meet again.”
Then the three members of the Blackfire Squadron turned and headed toward the door. No one in the bar uttered another word until they had gone.
“Why did you just roll over like that?” grumbled Dakota as they arrived at their new table and sat down. “He shouldn’t be allowed to get away with stabbing you, no matter how pally he is with the Consortium.”
Hallam grabbed a napkin and pressed it to the wound on his shoulder. It stung, but thankfully, it wasn’t deep. He then took another napkin, poured water onto it from the carafe on the table, and wiped the blood from his hands.
“I didn’t ‘roll over,’ Dak,” replied Hallam, annoyed that Dakota was now venting at him. “You had just spent the last few minutes telling me how much of a bunch of badasses those guys were. I figured stopping you from getting killed was better than letting that dark-haired mercenary pound you to dust.”
“Knight by name, knight by nature, huh?” said Dakota, rocking back in her chair and folding her arms. “I could have taken her. She doesn’t scare me.”
Hallam shook his head. “I don’t doubt that, but she should. She scares the hell out of me.” Then he grabbed a bread roll from the table and tore into it. “And I wasn’t acting as some sort of knight in shining armor,” Hallam continued, not wanting to stand for Dakota’s “white knight” insinuation. “I was just having your back, like partners are supposed to do.”
Dakota planted all four legs of the chair back on the floor and leant forward, taking Hallam’s hand in hers. “I know, I’m just angry,” she said, with a touch more softness to her voice. “Sometimes it just comes out, you know?”
“I k
now,” said Hallam. He did understand; his own experiences with the Consortium had hardly been favorable either. He’d shied away from discussing his past with Dakota, for the same reasons she preferred not to be reminded of hers – because it hurt. However, he now realized that talking about his past might help Dakota to see that he truly did know what she was going through.
“I got discharged from the Consortium Security Force for striking a superior officer,” said Hallam. The sudden shock announcement took Dakota completely by surprise. She released his hand but stayed quiet, watching him intently. “I joined up later than most after getting fed up of scraping together a living on Earth,” Hallam continued, staring off into space. “The bridge worlds were where the real opportunities were, and I’d always had a knack for flying, so I took a shot at the accelerated training program. Graduated top of my class.”
“No need to brag about it…” said Dakota, smiling, but Hallam was still in his own little world.
“I got moved to the advanced combat training center,” Hallam went on. “The guy in charge was this Deputy Chief named Dexter Stone. A real asshole. Couldn’t keep his hands to himself.”
Dakota nodded. “I think I know where this is going…”
This time, Hallam looked at her and smiled, nodding gently. “He’d been playing this wandering hand game with the female students for weeks, and we’d all talked and even joked about it, but no one wanted to call him out or report it. The chance at a shot to fly fighters for the Consortium out in the bridge worlds was worth too much, to all of us. It was our golden ticket to a better life.”
“So, one day, he did it again and you snapped and popped the SOB in the mouth, right?” said Dakota, guessing the rest of the story. “You are a knight after all!”
Hallam laughed and shrugged. “I got him real good too, right on the kisser. You would have been impressed.” Dakota laughed and nodded appreciatively. “I put that asshole flat on his back, out like a light. It was a sweet moment, until they kicked me out anyway.”