Cyborg Legacy: A Fallen Empire Novel

by Lindsay Buroker

The last sun had set, the stars gleaming in the sky overhead, so Jasim paused in his pacing to put on his helmet and allow his armor’s night-vision powers to amplify his sight. Cyborgs had optical enhancements to see in dim conditions, but he didn’t want to chance missing anything. Jasim and Leonidas had already been walking around the side and base of the long dune for an hour. He was about to head into the valley between it and another long dune to broaden the search area. He doubted the drone could have gone far in the time between when they had last seen it flying over that dune and when they’d flown over it themselves.

  Leonidas did not speak much, and Jasim found himself missing Maddy’s commentary, even if she would have mocked them for simply kicking sand around down here. The Interrogator had disappeared as soon as they had jumped out, leaving them alone out here. After only an hour, Jasim wouldn’t let himself believe they were wasting their time, but he couldn’t help but wonder what he would do if they found nothing. If they had to walk back to Port Thorn empty-handed. If they were able to stop the killer, losing his job would be worth it, but if not…

  “I think it makes most sense that something would be in one of these dunes,” Leonidas said, crouching and sweeping at something in the sand. “A structure below could have caused a dune to form, or the dune itself could be a manmade object.”

  “Yes,” Jasim said, joining him and putting more effort into poking into and sweeping away sand. “And you would think a garage door or whatever opened up for the drone couldn’t be buried too deeply.”

  “There aren’t any vehicle tracks anywhere. Dufour either flies to and from his mail delivery spot, or the sand shifts to cover tracks quickly.”

  “Dustor is a hard place to track someone.”

  Jasim patted and thumped at the slope, freezing when one of the thumps sounded hollow. He swept away sand, or tried to. In this spot, the sand did not act normally. It was as if it was glued together. Maybe it was.

  He continued patting around the area, trying to find a crack or outline of a door. “Want to help me, sir?”

  Leonidas had climbed to the top of the dune and was looking out into the desert. Jasim’s first thought was that Maddy might have changed her mind and was heading back, but he was gazing in the opposite direction from the city. Nothing but miles and miles of sand and dunes lay out there.

  “You see the owner coming home to get his comic books?” Jasim asked.

  “No.” Leonidas hustled down the side of the dune, sand sliding under his boots. “Not unless he’s been out carousing with a hundred other people.”

  “A hundred?” Jasim stood up, but from his spot, he couldn’t see through the next dune and to whatever—whoever—Leonidas had seen.

  “A dozen open hovercraft are heading this way, all with armed people in them. Desert pirates, would be my guess, maybe heading to town to visit the cantina.”

  “So long as they’re not coming to visit us.” Jasim had confidence in his and Leonidas’s fighting abilities, but fifty to one odds were not good, even for a cyborg. Those hovercraft might have anti-personnel weapons mounted on them.

  “I’d suggest we take cover under something, but…” Leonidas spread a hand, indicating the distinct lack of cover.

  “If we hunker over by that dune, they won’t have much time to see us as they fly over.” Jasim hoped the darkness would help further, but the hovercraft would probably have lights.

  “Let’s do it.” Leonidas took off, running fast again.

  Jasim hurried to catch up, hearing the first sounds of the approaching craft, the rumble of engines and churning of propeller fans. He and Leonidas reached the dune and sat down with their backs to it. Jasim draped an arm over his knee. They were just two cyborgs relaxing out in the desert. No reason for pirates to stop and harass them.

  “Should we take off our helmets to appear less like we’re looking for a fight?” Jasim asked.

  “Whether we’re looking for one or not, it’ll probably come to us if they see us.”

  Jasim thought of the bikers on Primus 7. He wagered Dufour hadn’t had to spend much to bribe them to attack cyborgs. “You’re probably right.”

  The noise of the engines grew louder. Was it a coincidence that the hovercraft were flying on a route that would take them directly overhead? Jasim looked across to where he had been poking at the suspiciously clumped sand—nothing unusual about it was visible from here.

  “Do you think our friend might have seen us out here and called for them to come visiting?” he asked.

  “It’s possible. Some of the people out here might also pay the pirates for protection, protection from outsiders, protection from them.”

  Jasim snorted. “Right.”

  The first hovercraft buzzed past overhead, its frame and fuel tanks visible from below. A few people’s arms were dangling over the sides of the craft. Instead of hugging the ground and following the contours of the dunes, the hovercraft continued straight across, staying well above Jasim and Leonidas. Several more flew into view, dark shapes against the starry sky. A few had headlights, or perhaps search lights, in the fronts, the beams stretching ahead of the craft.

  At first, it seemed like the pilots hadn’t seen Jasim and Leonidas and would continue on, but the lead craft banked and descended, sweeping into the valley between the two dunes. The others followed, tattooed faces and windswept thatches of hair coming into view. Those faces were all turned toward Jasim and Leonidas.

  Sighing, Jasim rose to his feet. “A fight indeed.”

  Leonidas also stood up, and Jasim thought he might raise his rifle to take the first shot before the pirates got closer or fully committed to anything. But he propped his fists on his hips and waited.

  Soon, ten large hovercraft floated above the sand between their dune and the next, all of them facing Jasim and Leonidas. Artillery weapons were mounted on some of them, long barrels extending out over the skirts.

  Jasim’s suit adjusted the night vision setting so he wouldn’t be blinded by the headlights shining into his eyes, but he could still see adequately. In the lead craft, a big man with brawny arms and long, wild hair stood up, propping a boot on the frame and leaning forward. Scars stretched along his arms, and Jasim stirred uneasily. He’d had incisions in very similar places when he’d received his implants. The empire had been careful enough and operated in such a way that its cyborgs weren’t left with scars all over their bodies, but he’d heard of civilian surgeons not doing as good of a job. And he imagined ones willing to install implants purchased on the black market weren’t the cream of the crop. Or had these implants been purchased directly from the source? Pirates paid for protection, indeed.

  “That one may be trouble,” Leonidas murmured to Jasim, nodding toward the brawny pirate.

  Jasim doubted he would have the full range of cyborg upgrades, including enhanced hearing, but if he had given himself superhuman strength, he could be trouble in a fight, even if he wasn’t wearing combat armor. None of the pirates were. Most of them wore simple trousers and vests, with bandanas, armbands, and heavy chain jewelry adorning their grimy clothes.

  “I don’t doubt it,” Jasim murmured back.

  “I’ll handle him.”

  “Got a tip,” the leader said, nodding toward them. “Heard there were a couple of suits of combat armor strolling around in the desert out here, just waiting to be turned into a pawnshop.”

  “I’m starting to think my days would be simpler if I walked around naked,” Jasim muttered.

  “And cyborg implants,” a man behind the leader whispered. He had significantly thinner arms. “It’s my turn to get some. I want the big one’s implants.”

  “He’s older,” another said. “The littler man will have more recent ones.”

  “Hells, I just want some implants. So Cyclone won’t be able to beat up on me all the time in the boxing ring.”

  “Implants won’t do you any good if you’re dead,” Leonidas said coolly. “Continue on to the cantina and enjoy your lives.” />
  The leader curled a lip. “The Lords of Crush don’t take kindly to being ordered around by imperials. Never did.”

  “Cocky, ain’t he?” one of his followers said.

  “Lords of Crush?” Jasim asked.

  “Witty,” Leonidas said, then lowered his voice. “We’ll both jump on the lead hovercraft. Fight them from inside, keep them from being able to shoot at us down here.”

  “Yes, sir,” Jasim whispered. It wouldn’t take much effort to make the ten-foot leap, and he agreed that they should be safer up there. In theory, the pirates wouldn’t fire at their own craft.

  The leader was giving his own orders. “Do your best not to utterly destroy their armor,” he told his men. “But they’ll be hard to kill, so you’ll have to—”

  Leonidas ran and sprang into the air, sailing straight toward the leader.

  The man jumped back, grabbing a spiked club from the floor of his craft. Blazer pistols hung from his holster, but for some reason he picked that weapon.

  As Jasim ran after Leonidas, planning to jump into the same hovercraft, pirates in the other ones fired. Orange and crimson blazer bolts lit up the night as they slammed into the sand all around him, more than one bouncing off his armor. He leaped into that first hovercraft. Leonidas and the homemade cyborg were already fighting, that spiked club versus Leonidas’s gauntleted fists.

  Jasim barreled into the unaltered men, those pointing blazer pistols at him. He threw punches, not hesitating to break bones as he knocked them over the side. The hovercraft deck rocked, and something snapped next to him. An ominous hiss sounded.

  Jasim had hoped the other pirates would not fire into a hovercraft full of their allies, but blazer bolts streaked toward him and Leonidas. Jasim ducked and rolled across the deck of the craft, trying to keep them from pounding his armor. The deck tilted further, and he crashed into someone’s legs. He turned it into an attack, grabbing the man around the waist and hurling him over the side. The man screamed, not from Jasim’s throw but from one of his allies shooting him in the back. Excited shouts rose over the squeals of blazers.

  The pirates didn’t seem to care if they hit their own people. Maybe they were drugged or drunk. Or both. Their eyes glittered with hunger as several other hovercraft zoomed about, angling for better shots. How many of them believed they would get some implants? That they could cut them out of Leonidas’s and Jasim’s flesh and be able to slide them right into their own? If that was what their crazy leader had done, he was lucky he hadn’t died from an infection.

  A man screamed and lunged toward Jasim with something clutched in his hand. A grenade? Or perhaps a fluidwrap? Jasim rushed forward and knocked it out of his hand. Whatever it was, it flew toward one of the other hovercraft, eliciting alarmed shouts from those inside. Jasim grabbed the man by his vest. The pirate yelled and kicked him, but Jasim barely felt it through his armor. He threw the pirate over the side and started toward Leonidas, who was still facing off against the burly leader.

  Before he made it more than a step, another hovercraft rammed into theirs. Jasim stumbled, the deck already tilted alarmingly. He spread his legs, planting himself and fired one of his arm blazers at the pilot ramming them. It splashed off an invisible barrier a foot in front of the man’s face. Personal forcefield. Either that, or he had Starseer talents. The man grinned wildly and came in to ram them again. Several pirates behind him unloaded their blazers, the bolts streaking toward Jasim.

  He dropped to his knees, using the frame of the hovercraft for cover as he returned fire. This time, he aimed for the hovercraft skirt, hoping to deflate the air cushions. They were not armored or guarded by the forcefield, and he gave a tight, satisfied smile as his blazer cut into them. Air gushed out, and the craft lurched forward, the pilot stumbling across the controls. As they struggled to brace themselves, Jasim took down three more pirates. Then the craft dropped out of view, smoke wafting from something in the rear.

  Something bumped into Jasim’s back, and he whirled, expecting another pirate. Right behind him, Leonidas gripped the leader and threw him over the side. Before Jasim could say anything, Leonidas leaped after him, and the two resumed wrestling before they even hit the sand.

  Jasim tried to reach the pilot of the craft he was on as two other vehicles veered toward the fighters below. Someone threw something toward the men. A grenade? Jasim sucked in an alarmed breath and lunged to the side of the craft so he could shoot it before it landed. Would these fools take out their own leader just to get Leonidas? Or maybe they wouldn’t hesitate to cut out their boss’s implants too.

  “Look out, sir,” Jasim blurted.

  His blazer bolt clipped the flying grenade but didn’t blow it up, only altered its path slightly. It hit the dune and rolled toward the combatants.

  Leonidas gripped the cyborg pirate by both arms, taking several powerful punches to his chest plate while he hefted the man from his feet. He spun and hurled him toward the grenade. Leonidas sprang away, diving and rolling down the dune. The pirate landed on the grenade as it exploded. A shriek of pain broke the desert night, but it was short-lived, as pieces of the man flew everywhere.

  The horror should have scared the pirates, given them a reason to pause, but they did not even seem to care. Three craft bumped each other in their eagerness to fly after Leonidas, who was leaping to his feet at the bottom of the dune. Men opened fire on him.

  Jasim had knocked all the pirates on his craft over the sides, including the pilot, but eight craft remained. He slammed a fist into the propeller fan to break it before taking a running leap toward the next closest group of pirates. He landed in the back of their craft and charged into some of the men firing on Leonidas.

  Leonidas leaped into one of the hovercraft coming at him, once again dropping himself into the middle of the men, confusing everyone as he flung people about. Jasim worked on clearing his own craft. He knocked people aside, not slowing even though his armor kept getting clipped by blazer bolts. He did his best to keep men around him as shields—his armor wouldn’t protect him indefinitely. Alarms flashed on his faceplate, reporting damage to his suit.

  He flung a pirate into the open fan blades of the propeller, and the man screamed. Once again, Jasim wondered if the pirates were drugged. Surely, sane and sober men wouldn’t keep fighting after seeing their leader blown up.

  An explosion boomed from the craft Leonidas was on. Smoke flooded the sky, and his and the other hovercraft around him disappeared into the gray haze. Flames burst through, rising above the smoke cloud and licking the sky.

  Someone behind Jasim shouted in surprise. At first, he thought it was because of the explosion, but then a second boom rattled the night. A shadow flew over Jasim’s head, blotting out the stars. He cursed, even as he ducked more weapons fire from the hovercraft next to him. Did the pirates have reinforcements? Men in airplanes or spacecraft? If so, those would be much harder to bring down.

  But as he rolled to his feet to throw another man overboard, he recognized the vessel zooming down, parting the smoke. The Interrogator.

  The forward e-cannon blazed blue as the ship fired. The energy blast struck down, and a hovercraft snapped in half, wreckage flying. The two pieces hit the sand and skidded down the dune.

  Finally, the pirates seemed to realize and accept that they were outnumbered. The four craft that remained serviceable turned away from the battle, wobbling and bobbing as they headed toward the horizon. Jasim, not wanting to see the pirates again, decided to take down the one he was aboard instead of letting it escape. The more blows they landed, the better.

  He tore the propeller casing from the deck and hurled it into the dune. It struck hard, metal screeching as broken blades flew across the sand. The hovercraft pitched sideways under his feet, and he leaped free of it.

  He landed on his feet in the sand, his arms extended, the blazers in his suit ready to fire, but the battle was over. Smoke wafted from six wrecked craft around him, and the pirates who had been thrown over
board, the ones who were conscious and could move, were running or hobbling away.

  Jasim spotted Leonidas a hundred meters away with the Interrogator settling down in the sand behind him. After making sure none of the downed pirates around him looked like they would make more trouble, Jasim headed toward Leonidas.

  He opened a comm channel to the Interrogator. “Thought you were leaving us, Maddy.”

  “I was, but I realized I hadn’t finished your friend’s hat yet.”

  “Ah.”

  “Also, I was scanning the channels of the local authorities and heard them talking about trouble in the desert, trouble that they decided wasn’t close enough to the city to worry about. I just had a feeling you were at the source of it.”

  “I don’t know why you would assume that,” Jasim said. “We’re law-abiding and gentle souls.”

  Leonidas had removed his helmet, and he lifted his eyebrows at this statement. “You must not have told her about the cantina owner that we locked in his own lav.”

  “You did that, sir. All I did was—”

  “Illegally open someone’s mail?”

  Jasim held a finger to his lips over his faceplate. “Shh, she can hear you saying those things. She might not finish knitting your hat if she learns what a miscreant you are.”

  “That would be a tragedy,” Leonidas murmured, turning to face the slope where Jasim had been digging earlier.

  “What did he say?” Maddy asked. “I didn’t hear that.”

  “He said that however many tassels you’re adding to his hat, it’s not enough. Cyborgs love tassels.”

  Leonidas squinted at him, but did not comment. He strode toward the slope with the suspiciously clumped sand. Jasim gawked at the smoke wafting from his charred and dented armor. It would need a lot of repair time in his case and likely an extended visit with an armor smith. His own was probably smoking just as much.

  He hoped that whatever waited inside that dune wouldn’t cause too much trouble, but he had a feeling that was a delusional hope.

  Chapter 12