Resurgence (Redleg In Space Book 2)

by Z D Dean

“Twelve o’clock, one hundred meters,” he called out as he dove for cover.

  His men, like everyone else in the bazar, scrambled for whatever cover they could find to hide behind. He had made it to a vehicle, and quickly took stock of his men. The RPG had detonated harmlessly behind the patrol, and he could see his men returning fire from their positions. After the RPG came the almost deafening cacophony of small arms fire. He could hear the machine guns and AK-47s down the street, intermingled with the M4s and 240Bs from his men. He glanced over the Hilux he was crouched behind and saw the assailants on the rooftops on either side of the street. To him, it appeared that the RPG was premature. Fifty more feet and he and his men would have been caught in a perfect crossfire from an elevated position.

  While returning fire himself, he worked the radios, sending reports to higher and getting reports from his men. Just as he was about to call up their sister unit for help, he heard a scream and the 240B went silent.

  “Can anyone get to Johnson? We need that 240 back up,” he asked across the net.

  “Sir, you’re closest to him. He’s at the car to your five o’clock,” came the response from one of his men.

  After crouching back behind his cover, he scanned the road behind him. Sure enough, he could see a pair of boots sticking out from the back of a sedan parked on the opposite side of the road.

  “Cover me, on my mark. Mark!” He shouted as he sprang from cover in a full sprint.

  As he hit his stride, he could hear the volume of his men’s return fire double. Five steps away, he was doing good. Three steps, still no trouble. One. He felt the rapid staccato of impacts on his backplate. The rounds knocked him forward, and his momentum helped him slide behind cover next to his downed machine gunner. At first, he could only feel the force and heat from the rounds. Once he came to a stop, the pain started. His left thigh and right shoulder were burning like they had been dipped in the pits of hell. It took all of his will to sit up and begin to provide self-aid. After propping himself against the vehicle he looked down to find both his trousers and blouse covered in blood. The arm seemed to be leaking, but the leg was spurting fire engine red. He knew the signs of arterial bleeding. He quickly tightened a tourniquet around his injured leg. It was difficult with the arm injury, but he got it to stop bleeding after a few seconds. As he tightened it down his world went dark.

  When he opened his eyes again, he realized he was still dreaming. Clad again in his black spacesuit, he was stacked next to the door of a stone building in a dense jungle environment. Although the jungle didn’t look too different from one found on Earth, the two suns peeking through the canopy were definitely not of Sol origin.

  “The target is a deranged warlord who has been torturing and abusing the people of this planet. He has hidden here, deep in the jungle, in an attempt to hide from the Abyss Hunters. We will show him the error of his ways. You new guys have already earned your helmet. When we complete this mission, you will have earned your chest plate.”

  With those final words of encouragement, the comms in his helmet clicked off.

  He was the second man in the stack, wielding a rifle that he had never seen before. Like in the arena dream, he only seemed to be riding along. He did a quick function check then gave the man in front of him a squeeze to signal he was ready to go. When the team was ready, charges blew the door off its hinges and the men filed in, their weapons at the ready. The room they were entering was filled with guards and the gunfight began as soon as they shook off the blast. The lead man went through the door to the right, so he went to the left. He felt comfort that room clearing was eerily similar to what he had learned in the US army, even on an alien planet with alien species.

  With the room cleared and targets neutralized, he scanned his sector and waited for the command to move to the next. He didn’t see the murder hole open in the wall to his left. He heard something scraping against the wall beside him, and turned his head to look. He was too late. As soon as he noticed the muzzle of the weapon, the attacker unleashed a volley of plasma rounds that ripped into his body. Zade hit the ground, the all too familiar feeling of hellfire washing over him.

  The rest of his sleep was equally disturbing, filled with memories of traumatic life experiences fading into equally traumatic experiences from a life he hadn’t known.

  Chapter 2

  Zade was awakened by the ship veering sharply to the left, tossing him from his bed. He hoisted himself up from the floor, trying to regain his bearings.

  “What the hell is going on, Ann?” he shouted, as his confusion started to melt into adrenaline. It was an unfortunate, familiar feeling from his past. “Are we being shot at?”

  God, I wish this was the first time I’ve had to ask that, he thought as he headed for the command deck. I doubt it is going to be the last time either.

  “We’ve just broken atmosphere on the core planet,” the calm voice responded. “The deadline was approaching while you slept, so I began take-off procedures. As for your second question, yes. I am currently conducting evasive maneuvers, as we have no weapons or shields on the ship. The two Unity fighters are trying to hail us. They have been following us since we began our ascent.”

  “Can you let me talk to them?” he asked as he carefully made his way towards the command deck, the ship bucking him around like a bronco.

  “They will be on screen when you get to command.”

  In his stupor from being rudely awakened from his restless sleep, he had completely forgotten about the direct entrance to the command deck from his quarters. Moving down the hallway towards his destination was a feat of determination. He learned that the lights would ominously dim as Ann transferred power to the maneuver the thrusters, giving him just a second of warning before the ship would perform an acrobatic maneuver. Although he was determined to get to the command deck, he took a second to appreciate the inhuman effort Ann was putting in to avoid shots from the fighters. He realized that he was being tossed around because her erratic movements were pulling power from the grav-plating as well as the lights. Since the initial volley that woke him, he hadn’t felt any damning impacts against the hull.

  After making it to the captain’s chair, he fastened his restraints and turned his attention to the screens at the ends of his armrests. As if on cue, one of the screens flashed to life. On it, he saw a pilot wearing a fighter helmet with the Unity crest inscribed across the front.

  “Why the hell are you trying to shoot me down?” Zade asked, “I still have time to get out of core space.”

  “Captain Alexander Zade, the chancellor and his heir have determined that you are a threat to the Unity. We have been ordered to neutralize you.”

  The coldness in the voice of the pilot gave Zade the chills.

  “Aren’t you fuckers supposed to give me some kind of ultimatum? Turn around now or we will be forced to fire? Power down your weapons or we will be forced to engage?”

  He watched as the pilot shook his head and let out a chuckle before the comms were cut and his screen went black. Without weapons or shields, he knew how the engagement would turn out. The only option he had was to run.

  “Ann, we have to jump now. It doesn’t matter where as long as its outside core space.”

  “Retreat appears to be the course of action with the best probability of survival. To make that jump, however, I will need to divert power from the maneuver thrusters and main engine...”

  “Giving the fighters a chance to close with us and land a killing blow,” he finished for her. “Fuck.”

  While being tossed against his restraints like a rag doll, he looked out the windows on the command deck searching for a solution to his dilemma. The space just outside the planet’s atmosphere was lit with the twinkling of ship engines. There had to be at least a thousand other ships that he could see. As the clock ran down, an idea struck him.

  “Ann, highlight all of the surrounding ships,” he ordered. The windows of the ship lit up with little green squares moving slo
wly across space in front of him.

  “Now, get rid of any ship smaller than us, and any ship that is unmanned.”

  The field of ships lessened by half.

  “Get rid of any ship not carrying hazardous materials.”

  The field was reduced to four ships, and he began to feel an inkling of hope spring up in his chest.

  “Get rid of any ship that isn’t between us and our jump destination.”

  One ship remained.

  He focused on the lone remaining square and zoomed-in on it so that it filled the front window of the command deck. It was an ugly cylindrical tanker, built for function over form. An information window opened under the moving ship, which indicated that it had a crew of one hundred and four. The information also showed that the cargo was Diazomethane. The chemical itself meant nothing to Zade, but the little icon of an explosion next to the name was easy enough to understand. He had a second of uncertainty before he decided to go through with his plan. Was he really going to use innocent bystanders as a shield?

  “Ann, minimize all evasive maneuvers and give us full speed to the main. Make it to the other side of the ship I have marked, then divert all power to the jump drive. Jump to the point we agreed on earlier. Let’s hope these guys wouldn’t risk blowing up that tanker and killing the whole crew just to get us.”

  He felt the erratic movements of his ship reduce in intensity and the forward momentum pick up. As Ann sped towards the tanker, she outpaced the fighters enough that she was no longer slipping to avoid fire. As she neared the cover vessel, she inverted, allowing Zade to see into the tanker’s command deck. Even though there were aliens aboard, he could see the amazement and surprise on their faces at his sudden appearance. Safely on the far side of the tanker, Ann lined up with the jump point, and then the ship quieted, leaving Zade to wait for the jump in uncomfortable silence.

  “Thirty seconds to jump.”

  Seconds turned to minutes.

  “Fifteen seconds to jump.”

  At ten second mark, he saw the afterburner trails of the pursuing fighters clear the nose of the tanker. They hadn’t expected Zade to stop just behind the vessel and were still barreling ahead in pursuit. He watched them veer back toward him in a lazy arc, separating and scanning the area for him.

  “Five seconds to jump.”

  Zade watched as the engines flared back to full power as the ships began speeding back towards Zade’s position. He was relieved to know that he wouldn’t have to see if they would choose to engage him in front of the tanker, as they were outside of the effective range for their weapons.

  “Initiating jump.”

  As the ship made its jump, the windows on the command deck blurred to a neutral grey. The light from the surrounding stars blended into the bottomless darkness of empty space all around him. He let out the breath that he didn’t realize he had been holding. He had been in his first space battle, lopsided as it was, and he’d survived. With shaking hands, he unbuckled himself and stood.

  “What is the status of the ship? How long will we be in warp?” he asked as he made his way off the command deck towards the galley.

  “Ship systems are functional. None of the fighter’s shots penetrated the hull, and two days,” she responded.

  “Good enough for me. Nice driving back there. I’m off to get some sloop and a shower.”

  “Thank you, but I was driven by a sense of self-preservation…” Ann trailed off before starting again. “There is one other issue.”

  “We are in warp after just surviving an assassination attempt. The ship didn’t take any hits, but we don’t have a shield or a way to fight back if they managed to follow us, and the chancellor of the Unity is trying to kill us. What ‘other issue’ could we possibly have?”

  “Before you act irrationally, understand that during my initial scan of you, I found that your species is naturally social. Prolonged periods of isolation in deep space can lead to mental instability.”

  “I’m glad you learned something when you shocked me, but that doesn’t sound like an issue. Out with it.”

  “There is another lifeform on the ship. They came aboard in one of the storage crates from the XES01.”

  Mother fucker, he thought as he stormed into his quarters to arm himself. That fucking chancellor sent backup in case the fighters missed us. It took him a second to find the duffel bag he had requested from the other ship. It had been tossed about the cabin before coming to rest in the back corner of the room, next to a chest of drawers. After strapping on a holster and grabbing his trusty sidearm, he headed down the corridor towards the cargo hold.

  “Ann, can you show me where they are in the cargo?”

  “The crates from your old ship are to the starboard side of the bay towards the rear. I have overlaid a thermal image in your helmet visor.”

  Her last statement made him finally realize that he hadn’t taken off the Groz helmet since he had fallen asleep the night before, yet he could see out of it and function normally. In fact, he barely noticed that he was wearing the helmet at all. It was something he would puzzle out in due time, but now he was focused on ferreting out the stowaway that had found their way on to the ship. He marched down the corridor, weapon at the ready.

  He scanned around the hatch that led into the cavernous cargo bay. Without a threat in sight, he moved forward quickly and crouched behind the nearest piece of cover he could find. After a bottom-to-top scan of the space, he could see the faintest of pink outlines inside the largest crate brought aboard from the XES01. Although he tried to stay quiet as he crept towards the intruder, his footfalls echoed through the space, ringing like hammer blows on the metallic deck plating.

  As he got to the intruder’s hiding spot, he examined the outside of it for a way to open the lid. With Ann’s help, he found the release highlighted in green on his visor. After taking a few deep breaths, he raised his weapon and popped the top of the crate. The box opened with a hiss, and he saw a figure hunkered down next to some miscellaneous electronics. The age, gender, and species of the assassin were all obscured by the protective suit they wore, decorated in Unity colors.

  Not wanting to give the attacker a chance to react, he quickly grabbed them by the scruff and hurled them into the adjacent wall of the bay. The attacker struck the wall with a bone-rattling thump and slid to the floor.

  “Ann, will my sidearm penetrate the hull of the ship?” he asked as he stalked towards the motionless body. After the chancellor’s most recent attempt on his life, his rage had almost overtaken his rational mind.

  “Your weapon will not harm me, but there is a probability of a ricochet wounding you,” Ann replied in her usual matter of fact tone, her voice coming from inside the helmet.

  He was hesitant to take the weapon off of the threat but realized that he would need both hands to subdue them when the time came. As he closed the distance between himself and the other, the form held their hands up pleadingly.

  “Highlight and open the nearest airlock,” he demanded of the ship as he bent down to grab the threat by the throat, easily batting away their hands.

  He felt the being struggling in his vicelike grip when Ann spoke up again.

  “We are in warp. There is no way to open the external door to the airlock until the ship has slowed.”

  “That wasn’t a fucking request. Show me the nearest god damned airlock now.”

  A small hatch just to his left highlighted green and opened. The assailant didn’t know the ship was in warp. Upon realizing what was about to happen, they began to struggle harder. They lashed out with weak blows that wouldn’t have mussed his hair under the Groz helmet. A tighter grip around their throat and a violent shake quelled their fighting spirit. Zade stalked towards the airlock holding his attacker at arm’s length in front of him. Although he was looking at them eye-to-eye, he couldn’t see a face behind the smoked visor of their suit.

  He tossed the attacker unceremoniously into the airlock and slammed the door. As he s
tood, watching them through the window, he saw them regain their feet and begin frantically banging their fists against the hatch that separated them. With the threat contained, his rage began to cool, and he almost felt pity for the assassin. They had been given a mission that put them on a ship that was supposed to be destroyed.

  “You do realize the chancellor and his kid did you just as dirty as they did me right?” he said to the attacker after finding the intercom button. “They sent you on a suicide mission. This ship was supposed to be destroyed as soon as it was out of the atmosphere.”

  As soon as he spoke the attacker ceased their assault on the hatch, and their hands set to unclipping their protective helmet. Zade watched as his words sank in and the attacker realized they were in an unwinnable situation. Once the attacker removed their helmet, he was looking at Samix through the window to the airlock.

  “Zade, is that you?” she asked, uncertain of herself.

  Looking through the glass at the woman who had ordered his murder caused his anger to return tenfold.

  “You bitch,” he started coldly, unsure of how to continue. “You did this. I wouldn’t be your father’s plaything or stay and do what you wanted me to, so you ordered this?”

  “Since I’ve known you, you have never thought through problems before reacting,” she stammered. She could see the tension in his posture and chose her next words carefully. “Why would I put myself on a ship I ordered to be destroyed?”

  His world was spinning. He thought he had left her and the problems she had caused him behind. Part of him saw the wisdom in her words and knew that the chancellor had ordered him shot out of the sky, not Samix. The other part of him was unsure. As his rage cleared, a new and equally damning situation presented itself. She may not have ordered his death, but by being on his ship she had guaranteed that every member of the Unity government would be hunting him.

  With a mental command, his helmet split open and he pulled it away from his face before speaking.

  “What have you done to me?” he asked, as he opened the door to the airlock, freeing Samix before he took a seat on one of the nearby crates, thoughts of freedom evaporating before his eyes.