Shadow Agents: The Benevolency Universe (Outworld Ranger Book 2)

by David Alastair Hayden

  Shadow Agents

  David Alastair Hayden

  Contents

  1. Vega Kaleeb

  2. Siv Gendin

  3. Oona Vim

  4. Siv Gendin

  5. Siv Gendin

  6. Oona Vim

  7. Siv Gendin

  8. Kyralla Vim

  9. Siv Gendin

  10. Siv Gendin

  11. Vega Kaleeb

  12. Oona Vim

  13. Siv Gendin

  14. Kyralla Vim

  15. Oona Vim

  16. Mitsuki Reel

  17. Mitsuki Reel

  18. Oona Vim

  19. Siv Gendin

  20. Siv Gendin

  21. Siv Gendin

  22. Kyralla Vim

  23. Siv Gendin

  24. Siv Gendin

  25. Karson Bishop

  26. Vega Kaleeb

  27. Oona Vim

  28. Kyralla Vim

  29. Karson Bishop

  30. Siv Gendin

  31. Kyralla Vim

  32. Siv Gendin

  33. Kyralla Vim

  34. Karson Bishop

  35. Kyralla Vim

  36. Siv Gendin

  37. Karson Bishop

  38. Kyralla Vim

  39. Siv Gendin

  40. Karson Bishop

  41. Mitsuki Reel

  42. Oona Vim

  43. Mitsuki Reel

  44. Kyralla Vim

  45. Oona Vim

  46. Mitsuki Reel

  47. Siv Gendin

  48. Vega Kaleeb

  Afterword

  Also by David Alastair Hayden

  1

  Vega Kaleeb

  Violent, pink-hued storm systems swirled on the blue gas giant over massive Baikonur Station, summoning wide-eyed tourists and local families to the space station’s aptly named Below Park to admire the bright clouds and watch the harvest ships skim the planet’s upper atmosphere.

  The tranquility of the park and its happy visitors belied the violence of the storms on the planet above them. Just as Baikonur Station, renowned for its prosperity, defied the turbulence spreading through the Terran Federation.

  A plasma shot crackled through the air, shattering the pleasant calm of the park. Screams erupted as a body fell to the ground, dead.

  Warm blaster still drawn, Vega Kaleeb scanned the scrambling crowds with disdain. Predictably, they were too busy scurrying for safety to bother taking action. Which was unfortunate. He secretly enjoyed maiming the occasional citizen hero.

  Vega stood precisely 1.8 meters tall—the mathematically determined, perfect height for a starfaring soldier. He weighed 96.3 kilograms. The weight was mostly due to his powerful synthetic muscles and the titanium casing laced over his skeleton.

  Most people mistakenly believed that all androids looked the same since so few had survived the Tekk Plague. But in appearance, Vega was as unique as any human alive. He had heavy brows over simmering eyes, a blocky jawline, caramel skin, and long dreads.

  He had chosen his intimidating appearance at “birth,” basing it on a randomly selected, hardened criminal from the twenty-second century. Except for the dreads. They were an affectation he’d adopted relatively recently to honor a deceased friend.

  The outer layer of his skin, though soft to the touch, was a dense carbon-fiber weave that could withstand minor burns, low-level radiation exposure, and cuts that would split open an ordinary man. It could even dampen neural pulses and ion blasts.

  Because of this protective skin, he could wear a light battlesuit, one tailored to appear no more sinister than the padded suit of a racing biker, while remaining reasonably well-protected against most attacks.

  Vega stopped at the feet of the man he’d killed. A wisp of smoke trailed up from the simmering hole where the man’s face had been. His partner ran up beside him.

  “You shot him in the head!” Gyring Tar complained.

  Gyring was a squat human male with gray eyes, dishwater hair, and a pockmarked face. He always wore a ridiculous tracksuit to hide his body armor and “blend in.”

  They had worked together for the last five years. Neither needed the other, but too often theirs was lonely work, and they got along well enough. Besides, having a partner allowed Vega to take on the occasional job that would normally be reserved for a hit team with a dozen agents.

  “It was a good shot,” Vega said. “What’s the problem?”

  “You killed him, that’s what.”

  Vega shrugged. “So?”

  Gyring groaned. “It was the wrong man.”

  Frowning, Vega called up a DNA scan with a mere thought. Regular humans used chippies for such tasks, but Vega did not need one. His brain could easily handle anything a 9G could do.

  “If you’re doing a scan, don’t bother,” Gyring said. “I’ve already done one.”

  Faisal’s voice piped directly into Vega’s auditory system. “Told you it wasn’t him. Didn’t I, boss? Before you even drew your blaster. ‘That’s not him, boss,’ I said, ‘that’s not him.’ But you shot him anyway. Not that I have a problem with it, of course.”

  Faisal, official designation FIZ80L, was Vega’s sky-blade and the most advanced robotic combat companion in existence. Built nearly three centuries ago, Faisal had originated in a top-secret Benevolence program that upgraded the built-in 7G chippies used in most sky-blades to experimental 9G-x versions. Instabilities had led to frequent breakdowns and a few murderous rampages, so the entire line had been scrapped, save for “surprisingly stable” Faisal.

  Locked away for future study, Faisal had waited, alone with his thoughts, for nearly two hundred years. Until he broke free to save Vega’s life during the events leading to the fall of the Benevolence, a day that had changed both their fates.

  After surviving the Tekk Plague through shrewd guessing and a bit of luck, together they had embarked on an ambitious campaign to reshape the galaxy.

  Currently, Faisal was cruising over the park with his jammers active and his refraction field engaged.

  The results of the DNA scan scrolled through Vega’s HUD. Identity of suspect: Carl Collins. Occupation: bounty hunter.

  A deep bellow rumbled from Vegas throat. “That’s funny.”

  “How so?” Gyring asked.

  “This man definitely needed a hole in his face.”

  “Carl Collins wasn’t our mark.”

  “That’s what makes it funny,” Vega replied. “Carl was a nasty bastard, and I never liked him.”

  “That’s it?!” Gyring asked. “You shot him because you didn’t like him?”

  “I shot him because I thought he was the mark. I thought he was the mark because when I saw him I didn’t like him. And I never like marks.”

  “You could have waited for confirmation. It’s not like it takes you more than a second. And I’m sure Faisal would’ve told you if it was him.”

  Vega shrugged. "You don't become the fastest shot in the galaxy by waiting for a second, or by listening to Faisal."

  “I told you before you drew your weapon, boss,” Faisal said.

  “Why do you care?” Vega asked Gyring.

  “Because he was another bounty hunter, Vega. He was one of us. And he hadn’t even drawn his weapon.”

  Again Vega shrugged. “These things happen. Besides, he was trying to scoop our mark.”

  “You could’ve told him to back off. I’m sure he would have. Carl was reasonable.”

  “It was easier to kill him.”

  “Vega…” Gyring massaged his temples in frustration and groaned. “Regar
dless, you almost certainly alerted the mark to our presence. That doesn’t make our job any easier.”

  Vega didn’t see how that mattered. This job was a walk in the park, literally and figuratively. Faisal could easily handle it on his own.

  “The mark’s still close. Faisal will find him soon enough.”

  “Want me to kill the annoying bastard?”

  “The mark or Gyring?” Vega responded with amusement.

  “Doesn’t matter to me, boss. Doesn’t matter one bit.”

  Gyring knelt and popped the chippy out of the socket on Collins’ left temple. He pocketed it along with the man’s sidearm and hard credits. “What did Carl ever do to you?”

  Vega rubbed his chin. “At a bar one time, he complained that I had an advantage over everyone else.”

  “Well, duh. Of course, you do. I’ve said it loads of times, and you haven’t shot me.”

  “I didn’t like his tone when he said it.”

  “His tone?”

  “He was… I don’t know… Annoying, I guess.”

  “He had a stupid face, boss,” Faisal offered. “Don’t forget that.”

  “He did have a stupid face,” Vega said. “At least he used to have one.”

  “‘Nevolence, Vega, Carl didn’t deserve to be killed cause you thought he had a stupid face.”

  “Look, what do you want from me?” Vega growled.

  “A soul.”

  “I lost what passes for an android’s soul a long time ago,” Vega lied. “You know that.”

  “If you can hate a man enough to shoot him in the face, then you’ve got a soul.”

  “I didn’t hate him. I can’t care enough to hate. I just didn’t like him. That’s different.”

  Gyring shook his head. “I can’t see how.”

  “I hated him, boss,” Faisal said. “And he did have a stupid face.”

  “Also, Faisal didn’t like him,” Vega argued.

  “Faisal’s not a good moral compass, you know.”

  Faisal mocked the other bounty hunter in a whiny voice. “Faisal’s not a good moral compass. Faisal’s too quick to kill. Faisal shouldn’t have cut the mark so many times. Faisal didn’t leave enough of the mark to get a facial ID. Faisal never thinks about incidental casualties. Faisal insulted my mother. Waah, waah, waah.”

  Vega snorted.

  “I take it Faisal disagrees?” Gyring asked.

  “Naturally,” Vega replied. “You know, I don’t understand why this bothers you so much. You’re a killer just like me.”

  Gyring sighed and shook his head. “No one’s a killer like you, Vega.”

  “I’ll admit, I do enjoy shooting—”

  Vega caught sight of the mark a split second before his built-in sensor array picked him up and projected him onto the positional locator within his HUD.

  The man was attempting to sneak up on them using a weak refraction cloak that rendered him a slightly smeared patch against the backdrop of the landscape. It wasn’t enough to foil Vega’s sensors or his enhanced vision and experience.

  The mark was only a few steps away from lining up a possible shot on Gyring. It was a bold move coming after them. Vega respected that.

  “I’m on him like stink on a corpse,” Faisal said, acknowledging the red dot that had popped up on the locator.

  Though he still had his heavy blaster in his right hand, Vega pulled his TRX-5 sniper pistol with his left. With his eyes, he marked the target and fired, trusting his instincts and reflexes. The guided bullet zipped left to avoid a statue then right around a small tree.

  Impressively, the mark deflected the shot with a force-shield projected from an emitter strapped to his arm. The lightweight round failed to knock the shield out. But that didn’t matter. The man was dead already. The shot had been nothing more than a distraction.

  Dropping out of stealth mode, Faisal swept in from behind. The hand-sized combat cog deployed four, eleven-centimeter blades and began spinning.

  “Whippee!”

  With a high-pitched whine, Faisal buzz-sawed straight into the mark’s back and exploded out his chest. He crashed through the force-shield, then zipped back into the sky, blood dripping off him as the blades retracted. In the blink of an eye, he disappeared to any but the keenest of observers as he returned to stealth mode.

  “Target eliminated with extreme delight, sir.”

  “Good work, Faisal.”

  Vega rushed toward the body. Gyring followed in his wake.

  “Are you sure that was the mark this time? And not just someone who irritated you once?”

  “Certain.”

  Gyring squatted down and scanned the body. “You could’ve taken him out with a second shot. This bloody mess was unnecessary.”

  “I had already promised Faisal the next kill if it wasn’t inconvenient.”

  “Right you did, boss. Right you did.”

  Gyring shook his head disapprovingly. “It’s him, alright.”

  Trying to avoid looking at the gaping wound in the man's chest, Gyring swiped a transparent strip across the man's forehead to get a permanent DNA sample, in case there was any question about them having done the job. Naturally, both of them had already recorded video of the event. Vega recorded everything he experienced.

  “We’d better clear out now. The police should be here soon.” Gyring glanced around. “Honestly, I don’t know why they’re not here already, given the commotion you caused.”

  “Take your time,” Vega said. “The police are the ones who hired us.”

  “No, it was the Corporation of Thema–”

  Vega waved a hand. “That’s just a front company for the Baikonur Police Department.”

  “So they hired criminals to go after a criminal?”

  “He was an off-duty officer,” Vega responded.

  “So they hired us to take out a dirty cop?”

  “I guess.”

  “You didn’t ask?”

  Vega shrugged. “Dirty, clean… Who cares?”

  “‘Nevolence, Vega! It matters to me. I’m outside the law, right? Way outside. I’m a bad man. There’s no denying that. But there’s got to be good men too. That’s why I never shoot cops. Society needs order. It needs justice.”

  “You believe in justice?”

  “I do.”

  “And fairness?”

  “Yes.”

  “You think the law matters?”

  “Don’t you? Without everyone trusting one another to be decent, society breaks down.”

  “Trust, huh?” Vega sighed with irritation. “Gyring, you’ve been stealing from me.”

  “Oooh, it’s finally about to hit the fan,” Faisal said gleefully.

  Gyring went erect and stammered. “What? I–I haven’t…”

  Unblinking, Vega loomed over him. “Gyring.”

  “Yeah, okay… Okay. I admit it. I ripped the number to one of your accounts. Last year. I had a lot of debts and—”

  “You still have a lot of debts. I checked.”

  “Gambling’s an addiction, you know? It’s a sickness. I can’t help it. And the men I owe… I can’t take them out alone. Not even with your help.”

  “You could have cured your addiction. It wouldn’t have cost nearly as much as your debt.”

  “I tried. The meds didn’t work on me. And I am not going to get brain treatment. I’ve heard too many horror stories about what happens to people who come out of that.”

  Brain reprogramming centers had once been reliable, but as with so many things, the technology had suffered during the plague, all but disappearing. The reverse-engineered technology in most centers wasn’t entirely reliable.

  “It seems that would have been a more reasonable gamble. I think you just don’t want to be cured.”

  “Please don’t be mad at me, Vega. It’s not like you ever use your money for anything. And I was going to pay you back. I had intended to return the money before you ever noticed, cause you said you never check your accounts.”
<
br />   “You could have asked me for a loan.”

  “Would you have given me any money?”

  “No.”

  “See. You won’t spend a single credit unless you have to, and you have millions. I only needed a few thousand. And I will pay you back.”

  “I need all those credits. Every single one. I’m saving up.”

  “Yeah, you always say that. But what could you possibly want that costs more than the millions you’ve got?”

  “That’s my business.”

  “Look, I’m sorry, Vega. I promise I’ll pay you back. I swear. Right away.”

  “Gyring, you’re a good man at heart, yet you kill people because you’re a decent shot and can’t pay your debts. And you can’t catch up on your debts because you don’t want to heal your addiction. Your sin owns you.”

  “Vega, I mean it. I’ll get you the money. I’m just running a few weeks late is all.”

  “Faisal checks my accounts daily.”

  “So–so you’ve known for…for nearly a year.”

  “I have.”

  “I really am sorry, Vega. And I promise I’ll do whatever I can to—”

  “I know you will. And it’s not your fault, Gyring. We’re good. I forgive you.”

  “Right.” Gyring breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Vega. Thank you. I’ll pay you back soon. Very soon. Let me just grab the mark’s chippy so that we can get out of here.”

  As Gyring turned Vega drew his blaster and shot him in the back of the head. Gyring fell on top of the other corpse body.

  “Woohoo, the bastard’s finally dead!” Faisal crowed. Then his tone soured. “Though you could’ve let me do it.”