by J. N. Chaney
Four dogs entered the field a second later, snapping their jaws as they raced after me. Within a few short seconds, they were already halfway across the glade.
“Get us out of here,” I said, finally reaching the lowered gate at the rear of my ship. “Raise the lift!”
The dogs were closing in. I could hear the anticipation of the kill in their labored breaths as they gained ground.
The cargo bay gate began to rise, and I leapt into it, sliding along the floor with my pistol trained out the narrowing airlock.
The animals tried to jump in after me but fell short. They leapt and snarled, showing their teeth as the half-closed lift continued to raise.
Several blasts struck the hull. I heard Emmerson screaming with hate in his voice, but the words were too distorted to make out.
The Renegade Star ignited its thrusters with thunderous acclaim, rattling the metal flooring as I tried to stand.
The nearby screen along the wall blinked to life, showing the view from outside my ship—nearly two dozen armed guards and their master aiming their rifles at me and firing.
More shots peppered our hull, but I knew we could take it. This ship was built to withstand a hit from a quad cannon, so a little handheld firepower wouldn’t do much except scrape the paint.
As the airlock sealed and daylight was replaced by the cruising floods, we accelerated. For a brief moment, I felt the pressure, until the stabilizers kicked in and it was smooth sailing.
At about this time, we entered the stratosphere. From Emmerson’s point of view, we were already gone.
I ran up the stairs and made my way to the cockpit, where I took my seat and strapped in. On the dash, an old bobblehead of Foxy Stardust, a cartoon character, was still bouncing from the earlier turbulence. She had a white helmet with a neon-blue visor and a pink spacesuit.
“Raising the cloak,” said Sigmond right as we entered the stratosphere.
No doubt, Emmerson was fuming over what I’d done.
It wouldn’t matter soon. After I delivered this trinket to Fitz, all the blame would shift to him. If there was any revenge to be had, Fitz would bear the cost of it, not me. That was how it usually went for people in my line of work. We did the job, but the client shouldered the blame.
My name is Jace Hughes and I was a Renegade, a hired hand to steal, smuggle, or loot anything you needed. I’d been known to do any manner of unsavory job if the need arose and the money was right.
And I’d keep on doing it until I was dead.
It was the life I’d chosen, and I had no regrets.
“What the hell is this?” I asked, staring at the blinking red light on the dash.
“That would be the warning light, sir,” remarked Sigmond.
“Since when do we have a warning light?” I asked. “And how do I make it stop?”
The light went dead as soon as I finished. “Apologies, sir. It seems our sudden departure triggered it. The sensors were overwhelmed.”
“Oh,” I said, turning back to the holographic display on my dash, showing the current battlefield. Over four hundred ships across two fleets were currently fighting it out, blasting themselves to pieces. I couldn’t say why this was happening. That’s not why I was here.
We were flying above Galdion, an isolated planet on the edge of the galaxy. I’d arrived in pursuit of an item of interest—the orb currently resting beside my right leg. Had I known I’d be leaving through a war-zone, I might have come at a later time.
“Any sign of detection?” I asked, referring to the nearby ships.
“Not yet,” answered Sigmond. “They appear to be unable to detect our cloak.”
“How soon can we jump?” I asked, bringing up the star map.
“Approximately forty-five seconds," responded Sigmond. "Longer if we die.”
“Funny as always, Siggy.” I punched in the coordinates for Taurus Station, our next destination and my current home of record.
“Thank you, sir,” said the A.I. “I really do aim to please.”
The ship jerked sideways, and I gripped my chair. “The hell!” I barked.
“Shields are holding,” remarked Sigmond, an unimpressed tone in his voice. Normally, A.I.’s weren’t outfitted with personalities, but I made it a point to request one when I had Siggy commissioned. If I was going to spend weeks at a time inside this ship, it wouldn’t be with a monotone, talk-me-to-sleep artificial intelligence. “Neither side has spotted us yet, thankfully, and the cloak is holding. Both enemy shots were targeted at other ships.”
Some distance from the planet, several Master Class Cruisers lay waiting. It would be difficult to leave this area without being spotted, even with the cloak. The smaller fighters won’t be able to detect us, I thought. But those Cruisers might. “We’ll have to show ourselves soon right before we make the slip. Think we’ll have enough time?”
“I believe so, sir,” said Sigmond. “Though I may have to return fire should they spot us.”
“Let’s try to avoid a firefight, Siggy. The last thing I need is another warrant.”
“Perhaps next time you won’t bring us to such a dangerous location,” said Sigmond.
“I will if I want to eat,” I told him. “Or would you rather we not get paid?”
“There must be easier lines of work,” said Sigmond.
“Easier ain’t always better, Siggy,” I said with a grin. “I’ll take the Renegades over sitting behind a desk any day of the week, thank you very much.”
Another blast rocked the ship, this time from the rear, and the attacking vessel passed by overhead. It was an Arnesian raider. “Are we ready yet?” I asked.
“Incoming slip in twelve seconds,” said the A.I.
I watched the two fleets duke it out, with ships exploding across the battlefield like fireworks, leaving fields of floating debris in their wake. In a matter of hours, the entire orbit of this planet would fill with wreckage. Dozens of salvage crews were likely already standing by, eager to resell the parts to the open market, possibly to the very organizations involved in this fight. Ships would be rebuilt, pilots trained, and the cycle would continue. Before I joined the Renegades, I might’ve been there with them, waiting for my scraps.
Not anymore. Now I had a more active profession. Sure, it was dangerous, and I’d probably get myself killed before I turned fifty, but I’d rather die from a blaster than boredom.
“Dropping the cloak and initiating slip,” announced Sigmond.
I gripped the manual controls for the quad cannons. “Let’s do it.”
The screen showed the cloak dropping, leaving us vulnerable to detection. “Readying slip,” indicated Sigmond. “Six seconds until activation.”
I nodded. “That should be quick enough to—”
Before I could finish, two Arnesian raiders broke formation, turning toward us. “We’re being scanned,” said Sigmond. “They are readying weapons.”
I let out a quick sigh. “Can’t say I didn’t try.”
I aimed the digital reticule at the first ship, squeezing the trigger once the computer had the lock. The quad cannon sprayed a series of rapid shots at the enemy vessel, punching a six-meter hole straight through its cockpit, obliterating the pilot and setting the ship to drift like a dead fish in a calm lake.
Immediately, I turned my attention to the second, firing another wave. To my surprise, one of the shots tore through the center of its hull, splitting it apart instantly and igniting its core. The propulsion engine reacted the only way it knew how—by exploding.
The ship shattered into countless pieces of unsalvageable dust, scattering towards the planet.
The rest of my shots continued, unabated, into the darkness of space. A few fell to the planet’s surface, followed by the debris from the destroyed ships, most of which would disintegrate before it could touch the ground. My shots, however, would continue until they hit something. Part of me wondered if any of them would strike Emmerson’s plantation, but I wouldn’t stick around to
find out.
I had things to do.
“Initializing slip,” said Sigmond, and suddenly, the entire battlefield vanished.
I watched as we entered the slip tunnel, the buried dimension that doubles as an express lane. Most of slipspace was still largely unexplored, but at some point, we figured out how to use it to transport ourselves across vast distances. Traveling through it wasn’t instantaneous by any means, although it was certainly faster than using normal space. Instead of taking centuries to travel from one star system to another, you only had to wait a few hours, maybe days or weeks, depending on how far apart the systems were.
Right now, I was looking at six standard hours, give or take a few minutes. That gave me time to nap and take a piss, maybe snag a sandwich. “Siggy, let me know before we’re out. I need to be alert when we get there.”
I leaned back in my chair, observing the passing lights along the slip tunnel. I had no idea what they were, and I didn’t care to learn. I wasn’t a scientist, and I liked the mystery.
I reached down beside my foot and touched the package, a metal orb, tightly secured. I’d risked my life to track down, retrieve, and deliver this thing.
Whatever it was, it must hold some kind of value, I wagered, but gods only knew if I’d ever find out. Scans had shown it to be safe, so it wasn’t a bomb or anything dangerous.
In my time running jobs, I’d pulled a few heists for collectors, so I knew this crap sold well on the market. Fools like Emmerson paid millions to have them dug from the ground and placed in a dark room, giving artificial value to a meaningless trinket. If you asked me, it all came down to someone with too much money to spend, looking for more ways to spend it.
That was fine with me, because jobs like this kept me employed.
Being a Renegade sometimes meant doing whatever job you could get, so long as it kept your ship in the sky. It meant shutting up and getting paid.
Outside of that, nothing else mattered.
Continue reading Renegade Star, available exclusively on Amazon.
Books in the Renegade Star Universe
Renegade Star Series:
Renegade Star
Renegade Atlas
Renegade Moon
Renegade Lost
Renegade Fleet
Renegade Earth
Renegade Dawn
Renegade Children
Renegade Union
Renegade Empire
Renegade Descent (Out Now)
Renegade Rising (July 2019)
The Renegade Origins Series:
Nameless
The Constable
The Constable Returns
Warrior Queen (Out Now)
The Last Reaper Series:
The Last Reaper
Fear the Reaper
Blade of the Reaper (Out now!)
Wings of the Reaper (July 2019)
The Orion Colony Series:
Orion Colony
Orion Uncharted
Orion Awakened
Orion Protected (Out Now)
The Fifth Column Series:
The Fifth Column
The Fifth Column: The Solaras Initiative (June 2019)
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About the Author
J. N. Chaney has a Master of Fine Arts in creative writing and fancies himself quite the Super Mario Bros. fan. When he isn’t writing or gaming, you can find him online at www.jnchaney.com.
He migrates often but was last seen in Avon Park, Florida. Any sightings should be reported, as they are rare.
