Lee and Alvarez were probably having a lot more fun.
****
Two former shipmates hurried down an alley not large enough to fit them side by side.
“Vee, I’m telling you we’re being followed,” Lee said, holding their equipment bag tighter. It carried untraceable personnel devices and other non-USSF issued equipment, part of the hard won package from Luyten.
Alvarez didn’t miss a step. “Let’s just maintain our pace, until we’re certain.”
At least the stubborn senior officer didn’t look back. That would have been a big mistake.
Since completing their objective in Luyten, they’d arrived on Rigel ahead of schedule. Lee wasn’t accustomed to waiting or peeping around corners, he wasn’t a spy. He’d argued that with the Supreme Commander in front of the XO. But the old man simply said—“That’s why we want you, that and your other skill set. Professional spies have certain characteristics, which stand out. No one will give amateurs a second glance”. Okay, he had to admit the idea was clever, or the SC was just superb at spinning things.
But that didn’t mean he had to like it.
This planet was a tech-2 rated world. The governing body chose to appeal to a particular group of United citizens and attract them as settlers. Not everyone in the United Star Systems desired life on the most advanced tech-5 worlds. Some citizens chose tech-1 worlds, with infrastructure similar to old nineteenth century Western North-American townships. A tech-2 world appealed to anyone who enjoyed farming the land, living in simple but elegant wooden structures, riding horses and just being free and outdoors. These people were capable of doing many different things, but they chose this way of living because they loved it.
A tech-3 world featured infrastructure and an economy similar to a major city during middle twenty first century Earth. People moved about in air-cars, ground cars, and many sectors revolved around labor in exchange for wages. There wasn’t much unemployment throughout the United Systems because you could find work on any planet. Despite this, no matter what century it was, there always seemed to be people who didn’t like to work. They preferred to take by force what others earned and some among them enjoyed doing it. And then there were the other basket cases—who just didn’t like to do anything constructive.
A tech-5 world was life at warp speed. Prominent corporations employed the majority of the work force on these advanced worlds. From brilliant research and design technicians, to miracle-working engineers. Researching everything from quantum mechanics to wormhole stabilization theory. These worlds contained the largest single adult demographic throughout the United Systems. It was all work and no play. Their work was their life.
And a luxurious life it was. Only citizens earning tech-5 level salaries could afford the pricey tourist-liners to see other worlds. They owned estates across the sector and a few employed their own small work force and owned small but elegant civilian warp-capable star-liners with the personal security to keep it all safe.
Tech-5 worlds boasted the tightest security. Everything from energy dampening fields to AI android security. There was no crime—organized or otherwise—unless you factored in the underhanded dealings of the corporations themselves. An offender might face deportation, depending on the seriousness of the offence. And no other tech-5 world accepted deportees, unless you were uniquely brilliant, which would have stayed the deportation sentence in the first place. No . . . once you were deported from a tech-5 world, there was no going back. Many became privateers, and some turned to outright piracy out of desperation.
It wasn’t a perfect society, but there was something for everyone. If you wanted a family, you could leave and start a new life on a world where the pace suited raising one—a tech-3 world. Did you prefer living free of corporation rules and regulations? Migrate to a tech-1 world. Every world had something for everyone. But that—
Swish, Swish, Swish. It sounded like footsteps and they were getting closer. Lee slowed his breathing and tried to still his racing heart. His neck muscles stiffened.
Don’t turn around.
He couldn’t fight it anymore, his eyes darted to the side and he craned his head ever so slightly, glimpsing three long shadows, stretching towards them. The shadows shifted.
They know I’ve seen them!
He pushed Alvarez aside and pulled. “Get down!”
They tumbled together to the pavement as several objects cut the air nearby. Projectile weapons! It made sense since laser weapons would alert security forces sooner. Good thing he brought one of his own. He whipped it from his waist as he rolled over the XO. He didn’t have to hit his mark, just cover their retreat. He squeezed off eight rounds before surging to his feet.
Alvarez was on his knees now, but he hadn’t drawn his weapon yet. “They shot at us!”
Lee yanked the motionless operations officer to his feet and pulled him around a building. Several puffs hit the structure. An inch closer and Lee would be breathing from his cheeks.
“I told you . . . damnit. I’m taking operational command of this deployment until the Commander gets here. Otherwise he’ll arrive in time to bury us!”
Alvarez didn’t protest. “Well, Lieutenant, which way?” he said, finally drawing his sidearm.
“There’re four of them, could be a fifth, not sure, but he’s hanging way back for some reason. I’ll bet one of them has gone around somewhere to cut us off.” He glanced around the building, up the street and pulled back a fraction of a second before more projectiles whizzed by his ear.
He flipped out his personnel device and switched to the layout of the city, with their position marked on it. “They probably expect us to run.”
Alvarez was breathing hard. “Isn’t that what we’re going to do?”
Lee grinned. “Oh we’re gonna run alright. Right at those punks.”
“What if that isn’t what they expect us to do?”
“I’m sure a mutual friend of ours would agree, you make the decision, you stick with it and you go all in—not half way. Or something like that anyway.”
“Indeed he would. Evidently the Commander has been a great influence on you,” Alvarez said.
Lee ignored him and instead handed him the equipment bag. “On my signal, I want you to return fire up the street, there’s no one behind them. Just shoot. I’ll move across and proceed to engage them further.”
“I won’t be able to hit them from here, you know that!”
“Of course I know you’re a lousy shot and two days training on the range with an unfamiliar weapon isn’t going to change that, but it’ll give me what I need.”
“What’s that?”
He chuckled. “A different target for them to shoot at.”
Not waiting for his terrified friend’s response, Lee darted out of cover. “Now, Vee!”
Lee sprung from cover. Alvarez’s weapon fire rattled his ears. Their assailants covered themselves for a brief moment but recovered and sent a hail of projectiles towards the XO. They had to reload at some point.
Lee crouched behind a ground car and took a deep breath, gripped his sidearm and dashed forward firing. Wump! Wump! Wump! The sidearm recoiled with each shot. He kept firing, emptying his own magazine and sliding another one in while on the move and continued shooting. Multiple puffs of dust and sparks landed around his target area and that meant Alvarez must be continuing to fire as well and more importantly—the XO was still standing.
When the first attacker looked up from cover behind a ground car, Lee was still a bit far. The man raised his sidearm.
Lee jumped, feet out towards his target. He saw straight down his target’s barrel. Wham! Both boot heels landed square in the assailant’s chest, hopefully crushing a lung. He would be down a few seconds.
The second man kneeling half a meter away, stared wide-eyed and raised his sidearm. Lee, having landed on his back after the jump-kick, pivoted his waist over to his right and with his arms steadying him, he launched a sweeping left kick, knocking the
gun from goon number two’s grip. It scraped away along the pavement further up the street in the direction of Alvarez.
Lee then pivoted his waist to the left, the momentum helped his right foot sweep kick the punk square across the jaw, but the goon deflected some of the blow.
The fight was on.
Lee twisted to his feet, bent his knees, raised his arms, and lowered his chin. Clenched fists protected his chin and thick arms protected his ribs. His opponent’s arms waved over each other.
Lee unleashed a flurry of quick jabs followed by a sweeping right fist and pivoted backwards. As he expected the man counter attacked with a punch of his own, not a total amateur yet not quite up to Lee’s level of expertise.
Lee sidestepped, grabbed the arm in toward him, and gripped the goons elbow—bending it in a way elbows weren’t meant to bend. Crack! The man howled.
Lee heard a shuffle from behind. The other goon likely regaining his feet.
He chopped the throat of the goon he was holding—a satisfying crunch, then a hard left cross dispatched contender number one towards the pavement. He swung the flailing unconscious goon over at the other one now regaining his feet. He pounced on contender number two and several cracking strikes later goon number two lay flat out.
Another shuffle from behind, he twisted and poised to unleash fury.
“Wo! Lee, it’s me!” Alvarez was breathing hard.
“You need to get in shape, Avery.”
“I got one, he doubled back, but I got him, no sign of the rest.” His chest heaved as he lowered his head to his knees.
“So I was wrong then,” Lee said. “He didn’t try to out flank us.”
“You were wrong and right,” Alvarez said. “Go hard or go home right? That’s why we’re a team and a crew. It’s not a one-man show. Let’s see if these guys have anything on them.”
Lee bent and rustled through the goons’ dark, tight jump suits worn underneath equally dark trench coats. Neither looked a day over thirty, both appeared clean-shaven with perfect distinguished features. They carried nothing, apart from replacement magazines for their sidearms, not even a personnel device. That made sense in this business, nothing to trace back to anywhere, except maybe the weapons. But they were only generic projectile sidearms. Anyone with a basic fabricator could make them. They were ideal for use anywhere utilizing energy dampeners. Projectile weapons were crude but effective.
Alvarez grunted and Lee looked up at him. Vee’s brow creased. He always had that look when he was processing something. “What is it?” Lee asked.
“These look like Imperial citizens,” he said.
Lee reached and picked up his sidearm. “How can you tell?”
“I can’t be sure of course. This is what Intel says they look like. Perfect-cropped hair, smooth face and flawless features. Seems these guys will go under a laser the first sign of sagging skin.”
“I’m going to take a sample from each. See what we can learn otherwise,” Lee said. He yanked out several hair follicles from each and placed them in a jacket pocket then took still images of their faces with his personnel device.
Lee twisted his head around.
“What is it?” Alvarez asked.
“More are coming. Let’s go!” Before they could dash off, something wet splattered the side of Lee’s face. Then something hard struck his back, it felt like someone drove a screwdriver through his spine. He touched a finger to his back and pulled them out covered in red. Then the XO yowled dropping his personnel device and went down clutching his leg.
“Got me in the calf, damnit I can’t stand.”
“Get up, Vee! Now!” Lee yanked his friend to his feet, careful to keep the wounded right leg close and provide support.
The XO grunted in pain. “Just go without me, Lee.”
Lee half dragged and half ran with his friend while ignoring the realization he was losing sensation in his back. There’s no way he would leave Vee.
“Lee! You can’t carry—”
“Quiet, Lieutenant Commander! The more you talk, the heavier you seem to get.”
He snatched the equipment bag back from Alvarez and slung the strap around his chest. The chase was on.
Chapter 9 – Fight Lee Fight
Star Runner
Rigel
Aaron looked on as Lieutenant Delaine lowered the high-speed courier onto the landing pad. Star Runner, as she called it, landed on the night side of the planet less than ten miles from the team.
During the descent, his personnel device locked on and paired with his two shipmate’s devices. Now, studying the location markers, Vee’s was inactive and Lee’s was quite the opposite.
His eyes narrowed. Lee’s marker was speeding up and slowing down, as though he was doing some sort of high intensity training. A slow jog for one minute, followed by a sprint for thirty seconds.
Lieutenant Delaine must have checked her personnel device and saw the same thing.
“What are your crew doing, Commander?”
Why in blazes would she assume he could know such a thing?
“Intel is your job, Lieutenant, why don’t you tell me.”
She shrugged. “It seems an odd time for doing interval sprints,” she said.
The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. This was no time to be wondering around in public at all. He raised his personnel device. “Prodigal son, it’s your father, please reply.”
Those codenames didn’t sound any less ridiculous to him now than when Delaine had chosen them. Despite secure end-to-end encryption, protocol still demanded the use of codes.
He tried again. “Nothing,” he said, sliding back behind one of the control stations. “They’re in trouble. Something’s wrong, we can’t waste time in a ground car, we’re going directly to them.”
“You can’t be serious, if you attempt such a thing, we’ll be intercepted and forced to land by one of the atmosphere patrol craft. We’ll have a hard time explaining this to civilian authorities.”
He pulled his harness over his shoulders. “It’s that or they’re dead—or worse.”
“What makes you so sure? There could be another explanation,” she offered.
He flicked the controls. “There could be. But none comes to mind so I’m going with the one that does. Strap in.”
“Might I remind you, Commander, I have operational authority of this mission, as its ambit is under the USSI. I’m merely assigned to SC Shepherd, but this mission is under civilian oversight.”
Aaron bit down hard on his lip, civilian oversight!
“And as I recall,” he said. “I have operational authority when it comes to ship based decisions and concerns. Right now, we’re aboard a spaceship, and I’m concerned about our team. Work that into your stone-cold synapses and see what your civilian oversight comes up with. In the meantime, you need to secure your harness. We’re in atmosphere after all, and I’m not Miroslav.” The last part was really a reminder to himself.
“Who?” she asked.
The engines rumbled, and the thrusters pushed them up, forcing her into the seat.
A panicked air traffic operator signaled. “Star Runner, you are not cleared for lift off! Pilot, you just landed. Power down. I repeat—you do not have clearance for lift off. Acknowledge.”
Aaron increased the engine power. He turned to face the Lieutenant. “Lieutenant, start screaming,” he said, “huff and puff, act like you’re in labor or something.”
She stared back in horror. “I will not! Women don’t ‘huff and puff’ when in—
“I don’t care what they do! This will be just as confusing for them now do something!”
Delaine sucked in a deep breath, and began yelping and blowing it out, in a manner she probably thought was the best imitation of an expectant mother in labor—three hundred years ago.
She sounded more like an injured sea whale.
He flicked the comm open. “Control. Please my wife is in labor, she wasn’t due for two weeks now she . . .�
� He paused looking at her, waving his hands, and she groaned louder. “This is our first child please . . . I need to get her to the hospital as soon as possible.”
“Negative, Star Runner, we have medics here who can help, cut power and let us help.”
Time to kick it up a notch.
“Oh stars in heaven, by every known deity in the universe and all we hold holy, she’s bleeding—bad!” He looked at her and she waved her hands for him to continue. “Oh my! Blood, there’s blood everywhere, hold on, honey, they’re going to help us!”
She screamed and shook her body. Damn, she was really into it now.
“Star Runner, I am clearing a path in real time for you to Rigel State Care. It’s the closest. Be warned atmospheric patrols are on their way to escort you over and will likely take you into custody once you land. I’m sorry, sir, but what happens after is up to the security forces.”
He cut the comm-link, disengaged VTOL and transitioned to forward flight. “Right, I’m going!”
He turned to Lieutenant Delaine. “Well, no thanks to you, it worked for now.”
“No thanks to me? I poured my heart and soul into that performance!” she said.
“Good thing you’re not an actor then, it was horrible,” he grimaced. “Way over the top.”
She stood with clenched fists. “Why you sniveling—”
He punched the acceleration on the little courier and burned for the hospital. The sudden surge tossed the “pregnant” Lieutenant into her seat. Now, she strapped herself in.
The flight path was clearing. And it was in the relative direction of Lee’s personnel device.
I’m coming boys . . . hold on.
****
“Lee, stop,” Alvarez breathed hard. “I can’t go anymore. Just stop.”
Lee strained his neck, no sign of the other goons behind them. Maybe they could rest a moment. He stopped and eased Vee to the pavement. His friend wheezed with every breath.
Border Worlds (United Star Systems Book 1) Page 7
