by Justin Sloan
“Second wave?” Jilla groaned.
Thudding steps came down the corridor, and a moment later a mech heaved around the corner and into view.
Valerie started to walk forward, but Wearl asked, “Do you mind if I take this one?”
Valerie shrugged. “Be my guest.”
Wearl’s rifle boomed as she attacked the mech, and the machine staggered backward under the force of the shots. The booms continued, and a moment later its faceplate cracked.
The glass was torn from its helmet by an invisible hand and went flying down the corridor, followed quickly by the interior padding meant to cushion the human driver, then random bits of wire and rubber, and finally the electronic device.
The mech collapsed to the floor, surrounded by the various parts torn from inside it.
“Thank you, Valerie,” Wearl said.
Valerie glanced at Kalan. “You know what? I like her.”
Talrok held the communicator in his sleeve to his ear, and a moment later he turned to the group. “The second wave is attacking. We’ve confirmed there are mechs armed with rifles we’ve never seen before, and drones are dropping more of them on us.”
Valerie’s eyes narrowed. “Do we know what they want?”
Talrok nodded. “The Aranaught is speaking through the mechs. Says she wants the Bandian.”
“Of course she does,” Arlay muttered.
Talrok sighed. “I’m going to be honest—we can’t hold out forever.”
“Then we need to give her a reason to stop attacking. We’re going to pick up the Bandian and get the hell out of here. We need to call the Grandeur.”
“There’s comm equipment near the prison,” Arlay informed them.
“Good,” Valerie said. “Let’s get moving.”
They made their way down another series of corridors, and though they heard fighting in the distance they didn’t encounter any more mechs on their way to the cell.
As they walked, Valerie spoke to Talrok. “You need to come with us when we leave.”
He shook his head slowly. “I know you probably don’t think I’m much of a leader because of the way I froze when I found out we were being attacked, but I’m not the kind of guy who abandons his outpost in the middle of a fight.”
“We’ll be fine,” Arlay said. “No offense, but you’re not exactly turning the tide of the battle here, sir.”
“Besides, once we get the Bandian out of here they’ll have no reason to keep attacking,” Valerie added. “You said you had some ideas on how to fight Aranaught, right?”
“Yes,” Talrok allowed.
“Well, now’s the time to put them into action. The stalemate is over, if you hadn’t noticed. It’s time to fight.”
Talrok hesitated. “We’ll need at least four ships to come with us. Arlay?”
She nodded. “I can make that happen once we get to the comm.”
They reached the Bandian’s cell, where two terrified guards were watching over him. Robin and Arlay went to call the Grandeur and the other ships while Valerie retrieved their prisoner.
“Man, he’s still out?” she said when she saw him.
Garcia smiled. “After all the drugs we gave him? I’m not surprised.”
Talrok put his sleeve to his ear again, then turned to Valerie. “The mechs have taken the dining hall, and there’s a group headed this way.”
Robin and Arlay trotted back from the comm room.
“What did Flynn say?” Valerie asked.
“We gave him the coordinates, and he’s already in the air,” Robin replied. “We need to get to the west airlock pronto.”
“I figured that airlock will be the clearest,” Arlay said.
Valerie nodded. “What do you say, Talrok? Ready to take down this AI?”
Talrok’s expression grew serious. “I suppose I am. We’ve been dancing around each other for too long. Let’s end this fight.”
“Good.” She turned to Kalan. “I take it the Nim is here?”
He nodded.
“Then I need you to defend this corridor. Give us time to get the Bandian and Talrok out of here. Once Aranaught sees we’ve fled with him things should calm down here, then you can follow us.”
“You got it, boss.” Kalan looked at Bob and Jilla. “You with me?”
They nodded.
“Wearl?”
“You don’t even have to ask,” she replied.
“Glad to hear it. We’ve got your back, Valerie. Say hi to Flynn for us.”
With that, Valerie put the Bandian on her shoulder and headed for the western airlock with Arlay, Talrok, Garcia, and Robin close behind.
Kalan watched them go, then turned to his remaining friends. “I hope you guys aren’t tired of killing mechs.”
Jilla grinned. “We’re just getting started, Grayhewn.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Tol’s Moon: Outpost Alpha
Shots whistled around Valerie and Robin as the two ran for the Grandeur, which had set down behind cover. Valerie still had the Bandian slung over her shoulders, refusing to let the enemy get their hands on him.
Kalan had his own way of getting around now, and she would have to trust in his abilities to not get his head blown off.
“Like the good old days, huh?” Robin said through her helmet.
“The hell it is!”
“Well, except we’re on a moon and have non-living things shooting at us…kinda?”
Valerie laughed despite their predicament and glanced back to see Garcia providing cover fire as Talrok sprinted up his ship’s ramp. She would’ve preferred to have Garcia with her, but they needed Talrok alive and the sergeant was a damn good shot. Even as she watched, one of those shots hit a drone dead on and sent it careening into one of the mechs, where it exploded on impact.
The Bandian grunted, totally awake now since he hadn’t had his sleeping or pain medicine, but keeping him happy wasn’t the goal here—just out of enemy hands.
As she ran up the ramp to the ship, she had to wonder if the concept of bait was still in play. They were being attacked, after all. Was there any scenario in which she would offer him up to get close, as they had originally intended?
He swore at her when she placed him in his seat and strapped him in, and for a moment she would’ve loved to hand him over.
She shouted, “Get us the hell out of here!” and ran forward to join Flynn on the bridge as the ship took off.
“I saw them coming,” Flynn grunted as he pulled the ship up and glanced back. “Shit, where’s Garcia?”
“With Talrok. They’re following, and have a plan to override the EMP or whatever the hell they did to us last time.”
“Yeah?” He punched the air. “Hell, yeah.”
They darted past more drones, shooting as they could and happy to see shots coming from behind them that hit their mark.
“Talrok’s been planning this for a long time,” Valerie explained, pulling up the display and watching as red dots bleeped out of existence and more ships rose from Talrok’s hidden base. “We’re in for one hell of a time.”
“Game on, bitches!”
“’Bitches?’” Robin asked, joining them at the front and bracing herself as they turned sharply. “Come on, now.”
“My bad, I’m… I’m used to operating with a bunch of sweaty, hairy dudes.”
“Not us,” Robin said with a constrained laugh. “From now on, it’s all rose-smelling chicas, got it? So show a little respect.”
“To be clear, he wasn’t calling us bitches,” Valerie interjected, but pulled back at Robin’s look. “I get it, just don’t like the language. Still, you’re kinda acting like a—”
“Don’t you say it,” Robin threatened, but she couldn’t help but laugh. “Shut up.” She pulled out some of the leftovers from their meal and handed them to Flynn. “In case you got sick of the food on ship.”
“Thanks,” he replied, nodding to the controls. “Val?”
“On it.”
; Valerie took over and was glad she did, because just then three enemy fighter planes appeared on the screen. Now she was mentally back home, flying a Pod as enemies fired—only here it was intensely three-dimensional, so she had to focus on attacks from all directions.
Her wing nearly clipped one of them as she tore through the latest one and came out whooping on the other side, hitting the next ship and sailing through the explosive flames.
Blips converging on the display showed that the ship carrying Talrok and Garcia was in trouble, so she pulled up and did a loop-the-loop. She rained hellfire on the attackers and took down two planes in the process, then made a break for space.
“If only this was a thing you could do for fun,” she said, catching her breath. “I’d do it all the time!”
“What, like one of those movies but you have control over it?” Robin laughed. “Yeah, call me when that’s invented.”
***
Soon the Grandeur was past the battle and flying toward the space station, and Valerie was glad to still see four ships behind them.
The communication window beeped and she hit accept, and a second later Garcia’s face was on the screen.
“Talrok says it’s time,” Garcia said. “You ready?”
“Just tell me what to do.”
“When he says go, turn off all power. Thing is, we need the trajectory, and if power’s off they can’t do shit.”
Valerie nodded. It was so simple.
“NOW!” Talrok’s voice rang out from behind Garcia, and the screen went blank.
Valerie glanced back at her own screen to ensure they were on track, then cut the power.
It was deadly quiet, floating through space like that. She finally took her helmet off and glanced around to see that the others already had, and she smiled.
“Well, this is fun.”
Robin picked her teeth with an extended nail, watching Flynn wipe sweat from his brow.
“Okay, not that fun,” Valerie admitted. She watched through the window as the space station grew larger and a realization hit her. “They can’t sense us, huh? I mean, without the equipment…other than with cameras and that sort of tech.”
“That, and with them being focused on the attack back on the moon, this might be smooth sailing.” Flynn wiped his forehead again. “I mean, one can hope.”
“All that sounds great,” Robin said, “but I don’t think we’re exactly on track.”
“What?” Valerie leaned forward, and nearly bit her tongue off. “FUCK ME!”
She was right, of course. When was Robin not? Judging by their current trajectory, they would be veering too far to the left of the space station.
“We got this,” Robin said, nodding to herself.
“How, exactly?” Flynn asked.
“Thrusters on our armor,” Valerie offered, figuring out what Robin meant. “We’re going to have to make a jump for it.”
“It’s not…computerized, right?” Flynn asked, but it wasn’t really a question. “Damn, it might work. And the ship?” He glanced back at the Bandian. “That guy?”
“You wait until you guestimate you’re out of range,” Valerie advised, “then turn on the engines and get out of Dodge. Wait for our communications. If we turn our comms back on, you’ll know we’re ready to get the hell out of there.”
“Or ready to hand over that sleazebag,” Robin offered.
Flynn took a deep breath, then nodded.
“Fun times to be had by all,” Robin said, standing and grabbing her helmet. “I estimate we have to jump in about three minutes. But hey, what the hell do I know?”
Valerie turned from her to the window, then to her again, and blew out a deep breath. “Sounds good to me. If we miss it… What’s the worst that can happen? So we float around in space forever, or until our ever-healing bodies finally give out on us.”
Robin snorted a laugh. “Valerie the pessimist? I never thought I’d see the day.”
“Oh, I’m as optimistic as a bear in a beehive.”
“Let’s get us some honey.” Robin patted Flynn on the shoulder. “You got this, right?”
“You two are doing the hard work,” he replied, then cringed. “Sorry. Yes, I got this.”
Robin and Valerie wished him luck and then went to it, strapping on their helmets and checking to be sure everything was in place. They waited as the massive space station loomed over them, getting closer and closer like a mighty space-kraken about to devour them.
“When we get back to Earth, remind me to never say yes to another crazy adventure with you,” Robin said, bracing herself.
“Sure! You can hang out with Sandra and help with the kid. I bet they need a babysitter.”
Robin guffawed. “Me with children? I think I’ll take my chances here.”
“Come on, a little poop and spit-up can’t be that bad.”
“If I’m lucky, I might die today and never have to find out.”
Valerie hit her in the shoulder, and nearly knocked her free of the ship. “Oh, shit, sorry—but don’t talk like that.”
“Right, got it. Damn.” Robin checked her shoulder. “Careful you don’t rupture my damn suit.”
“Again, sorry.”
Robin turned back and said, “Damn, now!”
“What?”
“GO!” Robin grabbed her by the arm and linked with her at the elbow, and together they ran and leaped into space, then activated their thrusters and aimed for the station.
Every bit of Valerie wanted to clench. Horror welled up and threatened to burst forth in a scream. Her breathing came short, and her eyes were wide—not at the sight of the space station, but the empty space beyond.
What was it with space and the way it made her lose control? She normally had it together. She was the Champion of New York, Justice Enforcer of the Dark Messiah…and here she was, as terrified as a small child. Dammit, she had promised herself not to ever allow that emotion again. In her line of work, though, she supposed it couldn’t be avoided.
Pull yourself together, she thought, remembering Robin at her side, remembering all those on Earth who depended on her.
She wouldn’t let them down.
“Brace for impact!” Robin shouted, and then they landed on one arm of the station, turning to watch the Grandeur fly clear and several others arriving.
“Took you long enough,” Valerie said when she saw Garcia. He was recognizable by his Bad Company armor as compared to the flamboyant colors of Talrok and his followers, who were preparing weapons.
“Shouldn’t there be more resistance?” Garcia asked, glancing around. “They can’t all have been sent to the moon.”
“Then let’s find ‘em and tear ‘em apart,” Robin said. “I’m anxious for some good ol’ hand-to-hand action.”
“Careful what you wish for,” Talrok interjected, walking past them. He now wore a helmet similar to those of Arlay and the others, with only the black line where his eyes would be. It gave him an ominous feel, despite his short stature.
His team was already on the move, breaching the outer walls of this arm of the space station. Soon they would be inside, and find out if anything waited for them or if this was one big wild goose chase.
Valerie and her companions stood ready to provide cover-fire, but there was no need.
As the other group made their way in, the only action were the space ships floating out there at the ready.
“Something feels off about all this,” Robin pointed out.
“Agreed,” Valerie said. “Stay alert.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Tol’s Moon: Outpost Alpha
Kalan stared down the long corridor, waiting for more mechs to arrive.
They’d been standing guard for nearly five minutes since Valerie, Garcia, and Robin had left with the Bandian and the leader of the outpost. Their orders were to defend the corridor so the mechs couldn’t get through to the western airlock. Not that they might not be waiting outside the airlock, but Kalan would have to trus
t that Valerie could handle her end of things. He needed to focus on his mission.
It was liberating, in a way. He pushed aside thoughts of saving the Grayhewn species, of the two Grayhewn leads that had both led to literal dead-ends. Of his ambiguous, complicated relationship with Jilla.
He just had to kill anything that came down this damn hallway.
Only problem was, so far nothing had.
Talrok had taken his communicator device, and he’d promised to let them know when the Grandeur was clear. Until then, they needed to hold fast.
Kalan held his Tralen-14 at the ready and watched.
Jilla nudged him. “Hey, Kalan, I know you love that little pistol and all, but don’t you think a bigger gun might be more useful in a firefight?”
“I wasn’t exactly planning on a battle with mechs. Next time I’ll pack something more appropriate.”
Bob grinned. “Don’t you know by now? When you roll with Valerie’s Elites, you gotta be prepared to fight anything and everything.”
“I know. It’s awesome!” Wearl said.
Kalan listened for a moment. “That gunfire is getting closer. Maybe we’ll finally have company.”
They waited a little longer, everyone listening. The gunfire was not far away now.
“Let’s take cover,” Kalan said, “and open the gates of hell on anything mechanical that comes down that hall.”
They ducked into doorways on opposite sides of the corridor, Kalan and Jilla in one and Bob and Wearl in the other.
Kalan glanced at Jilla, who was carrying an impressive rifle.
“Where’d you get that thing?”
“Guard station outside the cell where they were keeping the Bandian,” she said with a grin. “Sorry, they only had the one.”
“Unbelievable,” he muttered.
Clanging filled the hallway, sounding very different from the mechs they’d fought earlier.
He gripped his pistol and waited.
The thing that appeared at the end of the hallway was not what he’d been expecting. It was metal, like the mechs, but much broader. It gripped a huge rifle in its massive right hand and the other hand clenched at its side in a fist that looked like a wrecking ball ready to knock down somebody’s favorite building.
