Angela Strange: Legend of the Arc-Walker

by Mick Fraser

  “I don’t have all night, Paryx,” Drenno said testily.

  The fence raised one gnarled finger and snatched a mug off the table, which he downed in one swallow. “Truer than you know, my friend.” He held up a small device like a USB key, and tossed it to Drenno across the table.

  For a moment Drenno inspected it, then flicked it to Rathe. “Your first rule, Paryx: Coral before goods. You haven’t broken that in the eight years I’ve known you.”

  Angela tensed as the air current seemed to shift around her. She had felt the sensation enough times in her life, on the streets, in the Ferrier. Something was wrong. She looked from Paryx to Drenno and back again. “What’s happening?” she asked.

  Drenno ignored her. “You got something you need to get off your chest, friend?” he said, his voice low and menacing. “I’m guessing you’re not handing me this for free?”

  The plant-like creature looked uncomfortable, nervously straightening his jacket and sitting up in his chair. He looked lost for words, so Rathe supplied them instead.

  “We’ve already paid,” he said, “haven’t we, Paryx?”

  “What’s going on?” Angela asked again, louder this time.

  Drenno didn’t reply for a long moment, then said, slowly, “We’re getting fucked.”

  “Whoa, wait – does that mean the same thing here as it does on Earth?”

  The Captain’s hand slid towards his belt. Sensing the mood shift, one of Paryx’s Mestadon goons stepped forward and placed a shovel-like paw on Drenno’s shoulder. The Captain slipped from under it, and in one smooth motion grabbed the bouncer’s arm, twisted, half-turned, and slammed his huge sloping forehead into the table. Drinks scattered, and Paryx practically leapt from his chair, raising a hand to order the second enforcer to stand fast. Angela realised she was leaning back and cleared her throat. Drenno pulled a huge, heavy-looking black and burnished copper handcannon from his belt and trained it on Paryx. Several patrons stood and left, but a handful edged towards Paryx, hands hovering over gun-belts and rifle butts. Angela glanced left and was surprised to see Rathe sitting perfectly calmly, as though this sort of thing happened every day.

  “Tails!” Drenno called to his Med-Tech, who had been standing at the bar chatting to BuBu, but now stood with one hand on his mug and the other on the black haft of whatever was strapped to his back. “Go get Gage, would you? She can screw around with char miners on her own time.”

  Six-Tails growled and slammed his mug down on the bar-top, glaring at Paryx. “Damned Nanestocians!” he snarled as he swung for the stairs.

  “You,” Drenno hissed at Paryx. “You’ve got three heartbeats to save your bark.”

  “Okay. Let Vosko up, would you? He’s just doing his job.”

  Drenno obliged, stepping aside to let the Mestodon rise. The towering creature glared at the Captain, pushing its flat, brutish face close to his. Paryx ordered him to stand down and turned his eyes back to the human. “Sit down, Ellys. Please.”

  Keeping his gun on Paryx, Drenno did as he was bid. The Nanestocian swallowed nervously. “I’m not always on Haze,” he explained. “And I owe Reebus Naxx a lot of coral, too much to be able to expect Cabal protection around the dial. Varo collared me. Personally. Told me that if I didn’t let you walk into a trap, he’d kill me slow. Now look, I like you Drenno, you’re a good friend, good customer, but I’m not willing to die for you, not today and not tomorrow. This is the best I can do.”

  “This is your best?”

  “Aye. This is my best. And, speaking plainly, it’s still going to cost you.”

  Drenno sat back. “You’ve got some fucking nerve, you little weed.”

  As the on-lookers grew bored with the lack of violence, normal volume resumed. Gage appeared at the top of the stairs with Six-Tails, still reconnecting her harness as she descended. “What’s this one done now?” she grunted, lightly kicking Angela’s chair.

  Winston unfolded from behind her. “I’m getting an encrypted wave from Lieutenant Zera. He says… that can’t be right. He says Admiral Mas Varo is in the hangar.”

  Drenno straightened his gun arm. “He’s in the fucking hangar? Dizzy's in there.”

  Paryx spread his hands. “There’s no way a Scepterist officer would dare walk the streets of Haze, so he said he’d wait for you in the hangar. Dizzy is cloaked, right?”

  “You son of a—”

  Rathe laid a hand on Drenno’s forearm, gently lowering the gun. “He’s right, Ellys. The Jack is cloaked; for now, Dizzy is safe. You said you want something from us, Paryx. Get to the point.”

  The Nanestocian looked from one to the other for a few seconds, then said, “I want Varo.”

  Rathe laughed despite the tension. “Aren’t you in enough trouble already?”

  “Never. Look, I need to show that cuth-ta that he can’t just abduct and threaten a Cabal captain. That much he needs to learn and learn fast. Deliver him here, and he’ll pay me personally for his release. He won’t even tell Her Ladyship, I guarantee it. I’ll be richer, he’ll be humbler. You’ll be free. Everybody wins.”

  Drenno held up the device Paryx had passed him. “Is this real?”

  “Of course it is!”

  “Don’t look so hurt. You expect me to trust you after this?”

  “Aye! More than you did before, in fact. I could have let you walk out of here none the wiser.”

  Drenno lifted his hat and ran his fingers across his shaved head. “Fucking Varo.”

  “Who’s Varo?” Angela asked.

  “Bad news,” Drenno told her bluntly. “Evayne’s First Admiral, Lord Marshal of the Fleet. Founder’s fuckin’ blood.”

  Paryx smiled again. “And you're going to deliver him to me.”

  Drenno chuffed. “And how the fuck are we supposed to do that?”

  Rathe produced the halo from his jacket, turning it this way and that in his hands. "I've an idea,” he said. ”Well, part of an idea. It just involves getting rather close to Varo.”

  “I'll do it,” Drenno said immediately.

  “You’re a former Harlequin,” Rathe argued. “Varo won’t let you within ten arms. I can talk him up. He likes me.”

  “He hates you. We have to get back. Quickly.”

  Gage growled like a wolf and pulled a strange device from the holster on her left thigh. She twirled it like a baton and it extended in her hands to become a long-barrelled rifle. It wasn’t like any gun Angela had ever seen: it was sleek and white, with a blood-red logo painted on one side. Gage caught her staring and smiled like a shark. “It’s called a shard-slinger, sweetcheeks. You want to touch it?”

  Angela swallowed. “No, you’re okay.” She glanced up at Drenno, who was on his feet, two guns now in hand. The oversized barrels looked like they could be just as lethal without ammunition as with. Six-Tails slid the haft from its sheath and held it like a blackjack. When he shook it, one end transformed in a flurry of moving parts to become a huge hammer, the haft peppered by LEDs, the solid head buzzing with lines of white energy. As they geared up, the bar-room became quieter again, the raucous cacophony dulling to a hushed murmur. Angela looked around to see a grave look on Rathe’s face.

  “Shit’s about to get real, isn’t it?” she said nervously.

  He nodded. “I’m afraid so, dearheart.”

  “Fortunately,” Drenno cut in, “this is what we do for a living.” He pointed one of his handcannons at the Nanestocian, who jumped, raising his hands. “Don’t think we’re done here, Paryx. Not by a long span.”

  Gage activated something and her slinger hummed, the LEDs coming to life. “Let’s get it done,” she said.

  Drenno nodded, turning for the door. “With feeling,” he snarled, as the crowd swept out of his way.

  CHAPTER 16

  ~VARO~

  THEY MARCHED THROUGH the streets of Haze with a purpose Angela didn’t expect. Up until now she had felt somehow detached from it all; curious, yes, awed even – but always on the outside. She realis
ed she had been experiencing something akin to mild shock, which was hardly surprising; she hadn’t been processing data the way she should have been. She’d been apart from it, but her comparatively easy acceptance of her current fate had been her acclamation to it: the more she saw, the more she wanted to see.

  But it felt different now. This Varo had come for her, for reasons unknown, to either do her harm or take her elsewhere. Whatever dark destiny the so-called High Sceptress had in store for her was unlikely to be pleasant. She was in danger, she knew that, and yet she had not expected to feel so charged by it. She wasn’t afraid as she hurried to keep pace with Drenno and Gage, as they pushed through the milling crowds beneath a night sky that bled hot, sharp colours from its inky flesh. She felt oddly secure. She felt she was where she was supposed to be, at this moment, on this day – right where she belonged.

  As they passed through the security checkpoint, the absence of guards seemed to raise Drenno’s hackles. Had they been paid off? Angela wondered. Were they dead? Was Varo willing to kill to get his hands on her? Would this Tess Evayne spill blood for her?

  Drenno raised a hand, halting them before the second security gate. He thought for a moment, then swore. From the pocket of his duster he pulled a small rectangle of transparent, rubbery material, which he pressed against Angela’s belt. She felt it vibrate, and looked down to see it solidify. A cold ripple coursed across her body, sending a shiver down her spine. Her skin tingled and she gasped into her breather. “That’s a shieldlet,” Drenno explained. Angela raised her eyebrow at him and he sighed. “Gage?”

  The Auton sighted down her shard-slinger as she spoke, adjusting the crosshair. “It’s a personal anti-matter aegis that generates a fully-contained force-field equal to about seven-point-nine veta-hurtz. It has a six-shot yield against standard nine-fold plasma rounds, with a ninety-beat cooldown and recharge.” She lowered her slinger and turned her cold eyes on Angela. “You follow, princess?”

  “A shield,” Angela snapped. “I get it.”

  Drenno took her arm, turning her to face him instead of Gage. “Whatever happens here, Angela, you stay behind us – you understand? It’s gonna get loud.”

  She nodded, catching Gage’s eye. The Auton gave a predatory smile. “Loud is what we do.”

  Rathe’s hand closed around Angela’s. “Hope in the light,” he whispered. “Remember that, always.”

  Drenno took a few deep breaths through his breather, straightened his hat, and stepped into the archway. The gate hummed, then opened slowly, revealing the docking platform now devoid of movement. Drenno moved aside, allowing Angela a view of the whole gargantuan room. Space traffic continued to go to and fro between the other platforms, but nothing alighted upon nor lifted off this one. There were several dozen ships still docked in their bays, though she couldn’t see the Jackdaw; in its place was a huge, ugly rust-bucket with a gaudy logo daubed on one side.

  Before it, in a perfect line blocking the docking bays, stood at least thirty Exethan, these ones dressed in imposing black and violet armour. They stood completely still, like machines awaiting activation. All but two held long, needle-nosed rifles; the two carried shoulder-mounted devices that didn’t require a military-trained eye to identify.

  Drenno raised a hand to halt them again, just as the two Exethan in the centre of the line stepped aside with uniform synonymy to reveal a powerfully-built To’ecc in similar dark armour. His scaled flesh was crimson red, and a decorative crest fanned out above his wedge-shaped head. His lower hands were empty, resting on his hips, but the other two held weapons: a dark pistol and a slim, cruel-looking blade that buzzed with a faint red corona.

  An intense hush fell on the room, and Rathe pulled Angela back a step, moving in front of her so that he stood shoulder to shoulder with Drenno. Six-Tails and Gage, with Winston buzzing beside her, also edged forward. The To’ecc held up one hand, and the Exethan snapped to attention, raising their weapons in unison. He clapped his two empty hands and it echoed like a thunderbolt in the new silence.

  “Ellys Drenno and Rathe Massai!” he shouted, elated. “If only Her Highness could promote me any further. Maybe she’ll marry me.” He smiled warmly. “How have you been, Commander? Or is it 'Captain' now?”

  Drenno, now indoors, pulled down his breather and replied through gritted teeth. “I’ve been minding my own business, Varo. Keeping clean.”

  This was greeted by a laugh, hearty and sincere. “Clean? You? You don’t know the meaning of the word. And you, Rathe? Led any failed rebellions lately?”

  “Not since that one time, no.”

  “Probably for the best, eh?” Varo’s smiling eyes alighted on Angela. “And what have we here? Smuggled contraband, I see. Stolen property.”

  Angela tore off her breather. “I’m not property—” Rathe squeezed her arm, stepping around her. She snatched free of his grasp a little rougher than she intended.

  “This is Rusty,” said Rathe. “A new recruit.”

  Varo stared, eyes flicking from Rathe to Angela and back again. Suddenly he laughed from his belly. “Rusty! That’s rich, Rathe. That almost makes me forgive you for being the treacherous, cowardly cur that you are. But alas, Her Highness does not forgive. Or forget.” He paused, pressing one finger to his thin lips. “I don’t suppose there’s any way I can convince you to step aside without theatrics?”

  Angela looked to Drenno. Varo’s personable manner wasn’t throwing him. His eyes were cold steel when he said, “We’re not stepping anywhere, Varo. You picked the wrong dock.”

  Varo made a show of looking around. “And you did, too, I suppose? Why else would you be here?” He chuckled. “No. One of these fine vessels is the infamous Jackdaw. Where did you come by the cloak? Arkalian, is it not?” He tutted dramatically. “Very not legal. Now look, I don’t have time to search every one. What I’m going to do instead is... Oh well, why waste the words?” Varo signalled one of the Exethan carrying a shoulder-mounted cannon. “That one.”

  The Exethan swivelled and fired, unleashing a blast of orange and red light that turned a ship on the far side of the hangar into a raging fireball. The blast reverberated around the room, and Angela went rigid. That could just have easily have been Dizzy.

  Varo, a twisted smile on his face, watched Drenno’s expression. “Not that one, then,” he chuckled. “I can do this all day, Drenno. I’ll reduce every one of them to ashes, then start on all of you. I don’t want to, really I don’t. In fact, I’d rather not, but Her Majesty was insistent. You know how she likes to insist. Stand aside, give me the girl, and I’ll give you an official pardon, just for today.”

  “Fuck your pardon,” Drenno said quietly, to which Rathe responded with a sharp intake of breath.

  Varo sighed, half turning and pointing. “That one and that one.”

  Two more missiles scythed into stationery ships and this time Angela grabbed Drenno’s arm. The ship docked beside the Jackdaw was aflame, the fires illuminating the pale steelwork of the docks like the gates of Hell. Gage raised her slinger, and as one the Exethan changed stance, bringing their weapons to bear. Drenno growled at Rathe. “You said something about a plan!”

  Without waiting for him to reply, Angela pushed forward, raising her hands. “Wait! I’ll come. I’ll come.”

  “Angela, what the hell?” Drenno snarled.

  “You want to stand here 'til we’re dead?” she snapped over her shoulder.

  “I’m thinking!”

  Varo laughed again. “She’s got more balls than you, Ellys.” He addressed his troops. “Take her.”

  “Wait!” Rathe said suddenly, moving up beside Angela and sparing her a brief glance before stepping by her. “Do you know what she is?”

  The To’ecc gave an impatient sigh. “I couldn’t imagine caring less.”

  “She’s a weapon. That’s why Evayne wants her. Well, part of a weapon. The second part is here—” he raised the data-key that Paryx had given Drenno, “—on this key. Coordinates. She’s
useless without this data.”

  As he spoke he walked slowly forward, and Varo raised his handcannon. “No closer, old man. Kick it here.”

  Rathe waved it in the air. “Damaged, it's no use to either of us.”

  “I could shoot you and take it.”

  “If you wanted us dead, we’d be dead. There’s more you want from us, and you can have it without bloodshed. I’m offering you this, and the ship, to let us leave peacefully.”

  Varo laughed. “By Kranus, you really are a coward! So where is the Shadowstar, since you bring her up?”

  Angela looked at Drenno. “He wants the ship?”

  Six-Tails harrumphed. “Well it does belong to Evayne, technically.”

  Angela groaned. “Christ, did you give her a bloody wedgie, too, Drenno?”

  “Not for lack of trying...”

  She shook her head. “I’m beginning to see a pattern forming.”

  Rathe had edged closer still. Now he and Varo were painted on both sides in flickering firelight. An alarm went up overhead, and all at once the lights in the hangar started to flash red. Alongside the smoke and flames, the effect was disturbing.

  “The Cabal are gonna investigate that, Varo!” Drenno shouted above the din. “They find out you shut down an entire haulage dock, they’ll kill you where you stand.”

  The To’ecc looked around Rathe to reply. “Oh, we’ll be long gone before then, I’ve made sure of it. The only ones they’ll find here are you traitors. Beating you is so much more fun than just killing you.” He held out one hand towards Angela. “Come along, little bird. Her Highness awaits.”

  Angela took a deep breath, tasting acrid smoke. Beyond the aegis that ringed the moon, every ship heading to or from Haze had stopped, and all were waiting, watching, or turning tail and fleeing. If what Drenno had said was right, most wouldn’t want the attention a spectacle like this would bring. She didn’t know what Rathe was doing, but she couldn’t risk more pot-shots at random ships. Rathe was right in front of Varo now, close enough to touch. He held out the key, but snatched it away as the To’ecc reached for it. Another ship exploded, rocking the platform and sending up a fountain of light and fire. It must have been some kind of chain reaction, a broken fuel tank or something, ignited by the ship beside it. Angela couldn’t know. She shielded her eyes from the flames with one hand. Her arms were aching, her blood felt hot, but the Amp was stopping her from arcing involuntarily. Another explosion sent up a cloud of flame and debris, and as it did so the ship nearest to them shimmered, the cloak of rust and faded paint falling away to reveal the Jackdaw, black and gleaming in the firelight. She turned her eyes back to Rathe and Varo and the line of Exethan troops around them. The To’ecc half-turned towards the Jackdaw, but Rathe stopped him.