Rogue World: A Military Sci-Fi Series (Darkspace Renegade Book 3)

by G J Ogden

  Dr. Rand’s monologue hit them all like a hammer blow. In his own mind, Hallam had still believed they had time on their side, but Dr. Rand had burst that bubble with the same ease that Ruby typically blew them out.

  “Jeez, way to end on a downer,” said Ruby in what was a well-intentioned but sorely misjudged attempt to lighten the mood. Dr. Rand, however, smiled amiably, then finally opened the door.

  “We’ll reconvene in the morning,” Dr. Rand said, stepping out into the corridor outside the medical bay. Then she nodded to Hallam and added, “Apart from Mr. Knight. I still have some highly experimental, and most likely deeply unpleasant treatments to administer to you.”

  “Great…” replied Hallam, giving her a sardonic thumbs-up gesture.

  The scientist again went to leave, but something stopped her. She hung outside the door for a few seconds, then glanced back at the Wolf Squadron. “Your efforts and sacrifices do not go unnoticed,” she said with an almost familial warmth. “But stay strong. This is far from over yet.”

  And with that, Dr. Rand finally departed, leaving Hallam confused as to whether he should feel motivated or even more worried about what lay ahead of them.

  22

  Cad Rikkard watched as another three shuttles blasted off from the mainland, which was across the water from Damien Doyle’s island repair station on Vesta. He’d now counted twenty vessels fleeing the planet in the last ten minutes alone. And this was even before the gravitational anomalies had escalated to the catastrophic level Cad knew would eventually rack the planet. So far, the effects of the collapsing bridge between Doyle’s rogue world and the nearby asteroid field had not resulted in significant consequences for Vesta itself. However, the cities on the Vestan moon were already experiencing unexplained malfunctions in their artificial gravity generators. In some cases, these had been so severe that people had been flattened to death, as if trodden on by an invisible herd of elephants. In other parts of the cities, the gravity wells had inexplicably reversed, causing people to fall to their deaths as the ceiling suddenly became the floor. The planet itself had been spared such bizarre occurrences so far, but reports of localized pockets of gravitational instability were growing by the hour. However, even with the Consortium-owned news channels playing down the extent of the anomalies and blaming the cause on the Darkspace Renegades, many of those with the means to do so had already chosen to flee.

  “I estimate probably another ten minutes and then we’ll be done, sir,” said a Consortium technician in an orange boiler suit who had strolled out from the main repair hangar. He remained a cautious distance from Cad, who was still wearing his battle-damaged power armor, as well as the deep facial scar from his fight with the reptilian beasts.

  “And my replacement sets of armor?” Cad asked while still watching the departing ships climb higher into the atmosphere.

  “Yes, sir, they’re all loaded on board and ready to go,” the technician answered, rubbing his knuckles timidly. “I’m still working on the other item you requested, but it should be ready soon too.” The technician then huffed a laugh as he appeared to reflect on the complexities of the task Cad had asked him to undertake. “The metal is truly remarkable. However the re-forging process is complicated and…”

  “I don’t care for the details,” Cad interrupted, already growing tired of the man’s voice. “Just make sure it’s ready by the time I leave.”

  The technician nodded and backed away. Cad heard the diminishing sound of his boots clapping against the hard tarmac as he then swiftly departed, the pace of the man’s exit increasing with each step. Cad’s watch then bleeped an incoming call and he lifted his wrist to see that it was Falken. He refused the connection and sent her a quick message, explaining that he would contact her shortly. There was a lot he needed to discuss with the eccentric hacker, but first he had to make another call. Cad was wary of speaking with Damien Doyle again, especially in light of Draga’s death, and the rage he was struggling to contain. He knew some of that anger would inevitably spill out in the direction of the multi-trillionaire, and it was important he kept his cool. It was also important that Cad gave Doyle the facts first, rather than allowing the old goat to receive it second-hand and formulate his own biased view on what had happened.

  Cad scrolled to Damien Doyle’s contact details on his watch, sucked in a couple of deep breaths, and initiated the connection. Doyle answered with barely any delay, which in itself was unusual. The magnate liked to keep people waiting. It was one of the many ways he asserted his dominance over others. The emitters in Cad’s armor projected the image of the Doyle onto his retinas, creating the illusion that the head of the Consortium was standing on the tarmac in front of him. As usual, Doyle was wearing a dull combination of plain cream slacks and an even plainer black sweater, which looked a size too big for his thin frame. However, he was also wearing his unique animal skins shoes, fashioned from a now extinct alligator-like creature from one of the bridge worlds. It was still the only item Doyle owned that Cad had ever coveted. He thought back to the alien reptiles on the rogue world and wished he’d lugged one into the cargo hold so he could have something similarly unique made for himself. Since there was no possibility of returning to that planet, it would have meant Cad owned something that the galaxy’s richest man could not, despite Doyle’s vast resources.

  “What the hell is going on!?” Doyle began, dispensing with his usual opening gambit of denigrating Cad and trying to make him feel inferior. “I’ve lost contact with my remote facility, and there are planetwide reports of gravitational instabilities on Vesta and the moon. I’ve had the governors of every major state on all eleven other bridge worlds demanding answers, and the damn US President just called me too!”

  Cad sucked in another gulp of the salty sea air in an effort to compose himself and keep his anger contained. He still needed Doyle’s resources to help track down the renegades, Hallam Knight and Dakota Wulfrun. He knew he had to be careful not to provoke the magnate into another outburst and rash attempt to take him down.

  “Your complex and the entire planet were destroyed,” Cad answered calmly, watching Doyle’s eyes widen in horror. The older man’s body then appeared to slacken, like the wilting stem of a flower. He stepped back and rested heavily on his enormous desk, looking like he’d just been given a terminal diagnosis. Cad’s field of view was restricted when using the retinal projection technology, but he still recognized the regal piece of furniture as the one Doyle had in his library on his private estate. That meant that Doyle was currently on Vesta too, Cad realized, but he parked that thought for the moment. “Other renegades attacked the complex in an attempt to rescue Dakota Wulfrun,” Cad continued, since Doyle had remained in a stunned silence. “During the battle, some sort of alien warbot got loose. The complex initiated a self-destruct sequence. The detonation is what caused the anomaly that destroyed the planet, and it’s also the cause of what is happening here.”

  Doyle had listened patiently, but his wide eyes had narrowed and become cynical during the course of Cad’s explanation. “The anomalies are the work of the Darkspace Renegades, Mr. Rikkard,” Doyle said with a sudden hostility. “You would do well not to forget that.” Cad snorted and shook his head. Even now, Doyle was lying to him and treating him like a fool. And he could also see that the magnate was gearing up to lay the blame for the entire incident squarely at Cad’s door. “The real issue, Mr. Rikkard, is that you have once again failed me, and disgraced your reputation,” Doyle continued, his words dripping with spiteful condescension. Then Doyle pushed himself away from the desk and rose to his full height, as if he were able to draw strength from the act of denigrating others. Aiming a finger at Cad, Doyle continued his verbal assault. “Well, this will be the last time you fail me or yourself,” Doyle went on, growing angrier with each syllable.

  However, Cad had already had enough of the bile spouting from the magnate’s mouth. This time, he wasn’t going to allow the multi-trillionaire to talk to him li
ke the dirt on the bottom of his shoe. And he wasn’t going to allow Doyle to blame him for the magnate’s own failings.

  “This disaster is of your own making, Doyle,” Cad interrupted, his commanding voice drowning out even Doyle’s confident tones. “You said nothing of the creatures that stalked that planet. Your enforcers were all but wiped out before we arrived. And you said nothing of the dangers that were hidden in that complex either.” Now it was Cad’s turn to aim a finger. “If you had not kept these things from me – as you have always kept things from me – this incident could have been prevented.”

  Doyle was clearly taken aback by Cad’s outburst, but he did not back down. “If you had done your job, Mr. Rikkard, none of this would have happened. You have no idea what has been lost!”

  “Yes I do!” Cad growled through gritted teeth, his fists clenched. “I lost Draga on that planet, killed by the alien machine you kept secret from me,” he spat, and this time, Doyle did recoil. “If you had warned me of what to expect, then she would still be alive. So don’t talk to me about what has been lost!” Unusually, Doyle did not immediately strike back in an attempt to secure the last words. Instead, he remained silent, probing Cad’s eyes through the lens of the holo emitters. Cad forced his breathing into a regular, almost meditative rhythm, fighting harder than ever to push the rage deeper inside himself. “If you want to end our agreement – again – then so be it,” Cad went on, since Doyle had remained silent. “You can try to find someone else who knows the locations of the renegade hideouts, as I now do. And you can try to find someone else who knows how to bypass their bases’ defensive perimeters, as I now do. And you can try to find someone else with nuclear warheads that can reduce their bases to dust in the blink of an eye, as I can.”

  Doyle continued to remain silent, but Cad could see that his tirade had struck a chord. He then heard the bright chimes of another incoming call chirrup out from a computer terminal on Doyle’s desk. The magnate looked at the screen, scowled, then cancelled the alert.

  “I just declined another call from the President of the United States, Mr. Rikkard,” said Doyle, suddenly sounding more composed. “So, tell me, what’s the catch? You want more money, is that it?”

  Doyle’s climb-down almost caused Cad to smile, but he managed to contain this urge, along with his urge to snap Doyle’s neck. The sense of triumph and gratification did not last long, however, as the image of Draga’s broken body and that of Alexis, lying in her hospital bed, darkened his mind and his mood. However, the sobering thoughts at least allowed him to respond to Doyle with the somber conviction that was required in that moment.

  “You want Rand, and I want the renegades, Knight, Wulfrun, and Rivas,” said Cad coolly. “Our interests, for once, are aligned. I’ll get you what you want, and in so doing, I get what I want too.”

  Damien Doyle reflected on Cad’s response for a few moments, then folded his arms across the chest of his dreary black sweater. “Very well, Mr. Knight, once again you have a reprieve,” said Doyle, appearing to be satisfied with this answer. Though the way he had phrased his agreement to continue their contract sounded more like a king ordering a temporary stay of execution for a peasant. “Get back to me with an update at your earliest convenience.”

  Doyle went to end the call, but Cad was not finished. Since the multi-trillionaire now appeared to be in a more compliant mood, he wanted to see what else he could press him to reveal.

  “The renegades are right, aren’t they,” said Cad, stopping Doyle in his tracks.

  “What do you mean?” Doyle responded tersely, as if Cad had just accused him of a crime.

  “Rand is right and has been all along, at least have the guts to admit it,” Cad continued. Despite his efforts to remain calm, he was drawn to confrontation, like a moth to a flame. “Rand was telling the truth about bridge travel, Randenite, and the gravitational anomalies. This is just your attempt to cover it all up.” Cad watched Doyle’s arms wrap more tightly around his chest, but the fact that the magnate had not already barked insults at him suggested the dynamic of their relationship had shifted in Cad’s favor.

  “And so what if it is true, Mr. Rikkard?” Doyle hit back with unfamiliar restraint. “Are you going to turn your coat and join the renegade cause?”

  Cad shook his head. “I just want the truth from you, for once. We’re both too deep into this to walk away now.”

  Doyle considered this answer as the computer screen on his desk began chiming another incoming call, which he again cancelled.

  “Very well, Mr. Rikkard, since we are having a heart to heart,” said Doyle, turning his attention back to Cad. “Yes, Randenite and bridge travel is the cause of these gravitational anomalies,” Doyle admitted. “However, it was Shelby Rand’s bungled contraptions that created this mess, and it is Rand that is the key to fixing it. The solution is not to tear down everything we have built, as Rand wants to do. The solution is to fix the problem with better technology. The worlds cannot survive without bridge travel. It is a lifeline that cannot be severed.”

  Doyle’s speech was delivered like a conference keynote. Practiced, polished, and well-acted. However, Cad was not impressed. If anything, he felt like laughing, but held it in. The reason why the lifeline, as Doyle had called it, could not be severed was that it generated a vast income stream for Damien Doyle’s Consortium. Without it, his empire would crumble and Doyle knew it. The multi-trillionaire tycoon had always put his own personal interests above that of any other consideration. In his mind, the common good could only be served through the elevation of his own status and influence. Cad’s eyes then briefly flicked up to a ship that had dropped lower on the horizon and was now heading for the island. He again suppressed the urge to smile, then turned his attention back to Doyle.

  “And what if Rand won’t help you, or if she can’t help you?” Cad asked, curious to know how far this man would go to protect his interests. “What if the only way to stop the worlds crumbling is to let Rand complete her mission.”

  Doyle shook his head, like he was reading an unsatisfactory profit report. “That is small-minded thinking, Mr. Rikkard. I had hoped for more from you,” he replied, again turning to insults. “There are many other planets, beyond Earth and the twelve known bridge worlds,” Doyle went on, with an icy indifference to the prospect of billions dying. “If the Darkspace Renegades succeed in their task, it will be no different than if the bridges collapsed. Society would crumble and countless lives would be lost. But if they do succeed, rest assured that I and my empire will survive, Mr. Rikkard.”

  “Of that I have no doubt,” said Cad, choosing to stroke the magnate’s ego on this occasion. He didn’t want Doyle to suspect his own intention to end the man’s reign as leader of the Consortium. “I’ll get back to you with an update shortly,” Cad added. Using his watch, he then swiped to a package of data recorded by his ship and transmitted it to Doyle. “I would suggest that you relocate, though,” said Cad as Doyle’s computer chimed the incoming message. “It won’t be long before your private planet becomes uninhabitable.”

  Doyle frowned and glanced down at his screen, viewing the video recording of the rogue world being torn apart by the anomaly that was now heading for Vesta.

  “Very well, I will temporarily relocate to my Governors Island headquarters on Earth,” the magnate replied. He appeared as indifferent to the prospect of his own planet crumbling as he had been to the notion of billions of deaths. Doyle then met Cad’s eyes again. “Send your report to me there,” he ordered before ending the call.

  As the image of Damien Doyle vanished, Cad was again drawn to the approaching ship, which was circling around to land. The fighter was close enough now for Cad to see the familiar raven skull motif painted on the side. His thoughts drifted back to Doyle and the knowledge of his new location. His skyscraper on Governors Island, New York, was relatively unguarded, unlike his fortress-like estate on Vesta. It would make getting to him easier when the time came. For now, he’d
let Doyle scurry off and hide. His time would come soon enough, Cad told himself, feeling energized by the prospect of squeezing the life out of the odious man.

  The fighter touched down and Cad waited impatiently for the rear ramp to lower. The prospect of seeing Alexis again caused his stomach to tighten into a knot, and he felt suddenly nauseous. Both sensations were unfamiliar to Cad, and he didn’t like them. However, as soon as he saw Alexis Black step off the ramp and onto the tarmac of the repair base, the swell of relief at seeing her again overrode any other emotion. For a moment, both mercenaries merely stood looking at each other. Then Alexis set off toward Cad at a run, throwing her arms around him and pulling him into a tight embrace.

  23

  Cad wrapped his arms around Alexis and returned her embrace. He wanted to squeeze her as tightly as she had gripped him, but he had to struggle hard to remain in control. He was still wearing his power armor and risked crushing Alexis if he allowed his emotions to overcome him. Because of this, he wanted to pull away, but the feel of Alexis next to him and the smell of her hair had brought him comfort. Yet it was bittersweet. Cad didn’t want to feel as good as Alexis was making him feel. He was still too angry. Still, as Alexis pulled him closer and kissed his lips, Cad did not resist. And he didn’t resist as she stroked her hands across his face and kissed the scars that now ran from the side of his head down to his cheek bone.

  “We’ll find them,” said Alexis, finally releasing her hold on Cad, though her eyes still gripped him tightly. “We’ll find them and we’ll make them pay.”

  Cad nodded, still holding on to Alexis’ shoulders. Within seconds of her arrival, Alexis had given him two things he didn’t even know he needed: reassurance and allegiance. He felt immediately stronger and more complete. He still felt the loss of Draga keenly, but Alexis’ absence had been more acute, as if a part of himself had been missing.