Star Scavenger: The Complete Series Books 1-5

by G J Ogden

  Time ticked on as Hudson waited impatiently for the skelly to finish. It was the early hours of the morning and the presidio was so deathly quiet that Hudson thought he could have heard a gnat fart. As the skelly worked, occasionally bleeping and chirping softly, every little noise felt like a firecracker going off next to his ear. After one of the most nerve-wracking four and a half minutes of his life, the skelly finally decrypted the lock. He pulled the device away from the keypad and slipped inside the vault room, closing the door behind him with the gentleness of a teenager sneaking home from a curfew-breaking night out on the town.

  Wasting no time, Hudson crept up to the vault door and attached the skelly to the lock. Given that it had taken almost five minutes to crack the door to the vault room, Hudson expected a much longer wait to open the vault door itself. He slid the switch to activate the device and then huddled down to wait. The green LEDs flickered chaotically as the device probed the lock mechanism to reveal its secrets.

  Several minutes ticked by, during which time Hudson’s heart-rate had fallen to an almost normal level. Then he heard footsteps outside and his blood pressure rocketed again. He crept back to the door, pulse racing, and listened. There were heavy boots clomping along the polished stone floor of the hallway directly outside.

  Damn it, the second guard has come on duty! Hudson thought, and he began to frantically scan the vault room for places to hide or escape. However, the room was empty, bar a couple of metal-framed tables that wouldn’t even hide a mouse. The door he’d entered through was also the only way in or out. Any attempt to leave would place him directly in the path of whomever was approaching.

  Shit! he cursed, as he pressed his body flat against the wall directly beside the door. This was the only location where he could hide from the gaze of anyone who peered through the glass. If he was lucky, the other guard would just breeze past the vault room or take a casual peek inside and then move on. If his luck had finally run out then he’d have to improvise. Hell, I’ve already assaulted one CET soldier tonight, so adding another to the rap sheet won’t make much of a difference… he figured.

  The footsteps grew louder and then seemed to stop. Hudson held his breath, careful not to make even the slightest sound. Then he heard the door to the vault room gently creak open. The shadowy outline of a man crept inside and took two careful paces into the room. The figure was still shielded from Hudson by the open door, and he didn’t want to risk a move until he had a clear run at whoever it was. Yet for some reason the man hung back. Hudson felt like his lungs were going to burst, willing the guard to take another step forward. Then he noticed that the guard’s gaze appeared to be directed at the vault door. Hudson glanced over and saw the flashing green lights of the skelly, still working to crack the lock’s encryption. He cursed himself for leaving it in plain sight. If the guard had spotted the skelly then he’d charge out of the room at any moment to raise the alarm. Hudson knew he’d run out of options and out of time; he had no choice but to act.

  Barging his shoulder into the open door, Hudson launched the guard into the vault room, as if he’d been hit by a rampaging bull. The guard tumbled and skidded across the shiny floor, arms and legs flailing helplessly. Hudson rushed over, conscious of ensuring the guard didn’t get chance to cry out for help. Hudson slid down at the guard’s side and pressed his hand over the man’s mouth, feeling a wiry mustache push back against his skin. Hudson then drew back a fist, ready to strike, before he saw the man’s eyes cleanly for the first time and froze. It wasn’t a CET guard. The man was Logan Griff.

  CHAPTER 21

  Hudson’s moment of startled indecision was all that Griff needed to throw him aside. Hudson slid across the polished floor and clambered to his feet, before squaring off against Griff. However, his former training officer had already expertly drawn his sidearm and was aiming it at Hudson’s chest. In a split second, the tables had turned.

  “What the hell are you doing here, rook?” yelled Griff. He wiped his mouth on his shirt sleeve to remove the sweaty imprint of Hudson’s hand. Griff then he noticed the skelly again and a smug grin lit up his face. “You’re here to rob the vault? And with a skelly too; I’m actually impressed.” Griff let out a mocking laugh. “And to think I actually believed all your crap about doing things ‘by the book’. Truth is you’re no different to me.”

  “I’m nothing like you!” Hudson spat back. “You only think about yourself. I’m not stealing this stuff for me. I made a promise, and I intend to keep it.”

  Griff’s eyes narrowed and he shook his head. “This here is the only person that matters, rook,” he said, tapping himself on the chest with a yellowed finger. “Looking out for number one is why I keep beating you. But I guess that’s a lesson you’ll never learn.”

  “So why are you in here, big shot?” Hudson hit back. “Robbing a vault seems a bit desperate, even for you.”

  “Yeah, well some moron went and cost me my score, remember?” Griff growled. His mood had soured just as quickly as he’d drawn his sidearm. “And now Wash is on my ass to pay your full outstanding quota as well as mine. And I don’t have that kind of money.”

  “Why my quota too?” asked Hudson. He was trying to stall Griff and buy time to think, but he was genuinely curious too.

  “Payback for Wash backing up my story with the CET. Those stiff assholes wanted to open an investigation into your girlfriend’s death.”

  Hudson flushed with anger, but managed to hold himself back, “Don’t talk about her, you murdering bastard,” he growled, jabbing a finger at Griff like it was the tip of a knife.

  “Or what, rook?” Griff hit back. He had seemed to find Hudson’s threat more insulting than intimidating. “You already screwed up your chance to take me down. You should have left Brahms Three while you had the chance.”

  “Yeah, well thanks to you, the RGF left me with nothing, so it’s not like I had a choice.”

  “You had a choice,” replied Griff. Hudson could almost taste the bitterness in his breath. “You chose to double-cross me, and now it’s going to cost you, like I promised it would.”

  There was a quiet trio of beeps from behind them as the skelly finished deciphering the vault key. This was followed by a resonant thud as the bolts holding the thick steel door shut retracted into their housing.

  “After you, rook,” said Griff, motioning for Hudson to back towards the vault with the barrel of his pistol. Hudson now noticed the weapon had a suppressor attached. “Thanks for saving me the effort of breaking it open.” Then he seemed to have an epiphany and his face scrunched into a confused scowl. “I had to bribe a night guard to give me his keyfobs and take a sick day, so how did you get in here? And where did you get a skelly; you just said you were broke?”

  “Maybe I’m smarter than you think, after all,” said Hudson, being deliberately evasive. He was conscious of not saying anything that might implicate Ma and put her or the Landing Strip onto Griff’s radar. Ericka had paid the ultimate price for getting involved with him, and Hudson’s fragile conscience couldn’t stand it if Ma got hurt too.

  Griff shrugged and then tapped the weapon with his free hand, “Not quite smart enough, though.” Then he redirected the barrel of the weapon towards the circular door behind Hudson, “Now, open the vault, step inside and head to the back.”

  Hudson felt a chill shoot down his spine. “Why, what are you going to do?” Every instinct warned him that getting inside the vault was a bad idea.

  “You’re going to rob it for me,” said Griff, casually. “It’s the least you can do for all the trouble you’ve caused.”

  “And then what?”

  “And then you’re going to be my fall guy, of course. The CET will open the door at second sunrise and find you inside. You’re a ready-made scapegoat.” Griff shrugged again, “Assuming you don’t suffocate and die first, but then I don’t give a shit either way. Point is, they’ll arrest you and won’t be looking for me.” He aimed his weapon at Hudson’s right leg,
“Now, open the door and get inside, before I put a bullet into your foot. That would make your stay in ‘vault city’ a whole lot less comfortable, don’t you think?”

  Hudson did as he was instructed, hauling the heavy vault door open before stepping over the threshold. He knew that his prospects of getting out alive were deteriorating rapidly, but he didn’t see that he had a choice. Griff wasn’t bluffing about locking him inside the vault. And Hudson also believed that he’d wound him to prove his point if provoked. However, he didn’t believe for a second that Griff would leave him alive. He must have known that Hudson would implicate him as an accomplice. He was merely dangling the prospect of survival as a way to gain Hudson’s co-operation. Griff had already threatened to kill him once in order to silence him, and there was no reason to believe this situation would be any different. Hudson had to stop Griff, before he’d had his fill from the vault, otherwise he was dead. However, time was running out.

  Griff followed Hudson inside, removing his flattened, empty backpack before throwing it at Hudson’s feet. “Start filling that up, rook,” he commanded, “and only with the good stuff. I’ll be watching, so don’t try anything stupid, if that’s even possible for you.”

  “Don’t you ever get bored of ripping people off?” said Hudson. He opened the bag and began rifling through the contents of the vault’s shelves, placing some of the more valuable alien relics inside. His only chance now was to find something in the vault he could use against Griff. It was a long shot, but he’d had more good luck than bad so far today. He had to believe he could still roll a hard six.

  “Don’t you ever get tired of pissing me off?” replied Griff, vindictively. “Just shut the hell up and fill the bag. And be on the lookout for something that looks like a crystal, about the length of a hand with a weird metallic sheen. Maybe the girl got lucky and found it.”

  The crystal again? thought Hudson, wondering what was so important about this new discovery to warrant so much attention. He played dumb, and tried to eke out some more information from Griff. “I’ve never heard of a crystal being found on a wreck. What does it do?”

  “How the hell should I know?” replied Griff, irritably. “But any new relic discovery could be worth a fortune.” Then he scowled and raised his weapon a little higher. “You sure you don’t know anything about a crystal? That would actually explain why you and the lady hooked up.”

  “I didn’t help Ericka for money,” said Hudson, resentful that Griff would assume he could sink to his level. “Her brother is broke and about to lose his home, his kids… everything.”

  Griff bellowed out a laugh, “And you bought that crap? Man, you are a special case, aren’t you?”

  “I wouldn’t expect you to understand,” said Griff, tossing a few more alien components into the bag. “You only care about ‘number one’ right?”

  “You expect me to believe you’d risk your own life to rob this place just out of sentiment?” spat Griff, his contempt growing more apparent with each word that passed his lips. “Fulfilling her dying wish, is that really it?” He laughed again.

  Hudson threw down the piece of alien tech in his hand and made a move towards Griff, but the muted crack of his suppressed sidearm made him stop dead. Hudson frantically checked himself, expecting to see blood leaking from a wound, but he wasn’t injured.

  “That was a warning – the only one you’ll get. The next one goes into your gut, rook,” warned Griff. “I’ll fill the damn bag myself if I have to.”

  Hudson backed away and then returned to scouring the shelves, his heart thumping. He’d let Griff rile him, and he was lucky to still be alive. Now, with the bag almost full, he perhaps only had another minute or two to come up with something – anything – to take Griff down first.

  Then Hudson spotted something familiar that had gotten pushed to the back of a shelf. He glanced across to Griff, who was yawning and no longer paying close attention, and took a more detailed look. Ericka’s electroshock ring? Thought Hudson, unsure if he was remembering it correctly. It certainly looked like the device she’d used to subdue the mugger in the alleyway. Checking again to make sure Griff wasn’t watching, he casually slipped the ring onto his finger. If it was the electroshock ring, it might just end up saving his life, just as it had saved Ericka. And if it wasn’t then he was going to look as dumb as Griff already thought he was, except a whole lot deader.

  “Come on, rook, I don’t have all night,” complained Griff, again prodding the weapon in Hudson’s direction.

  The mention of time seemed to make him more anxious. Like Hudson, Griff would have known that the CET cleared the vault at second sunrise. Griff stepped back over the threshold to check the coast was still clear outside. Hudson used the opportunity to stuff the bag with a couple of larger, less valuable items. It was enough to make it look like he’d done his job. He pulled the drawstring of the rucksack and then clipped the flap shut, before holding the bag out towards Griff.

  “Here’s your blood money,” Hudson called over. He was intentionally teasing the bag in front of his body in order to entice Griff closer. He doubted that his former partner would risk shooting him with the bag full of relics held up like a shield. “Murder, extortion, theft… I wonder how you sleep at night?”

  Griff stepped back inside the vault and eyed the bag, greedily. “I sleep just fine, rook. Now, throw the bag over.”

  Hudson took a measured pace forward. “You want me to throw a bag full of fragile alien tech at you?” he said, in an ‘are you really that stupid’ tone of voice.

  Griff took another step closer, but still left a good couple of meters between him and Hudson. “Just put it down and then back off,” he snarled, again jabbing the barrel of the weapon towards him.

  “Did you ever play sports?” asked Hudson.

  “What?” replied Griff. The question had briefly thrown him.

  “Sports, did you ever play?” Hudson repeated.

  “No. What kind of asinine question is that?”

  “I just wanted to know if you can catch…” said Hudson. And as he spoke the word ‘catch’, he threw the bag at Griff. Hudson watched as Griff’s gaunt, mustachioed face contorted and eyes widened, tracking the rucksack as it arced towards him like a football. Instinctively, Griff went to seize the bag before it crashed to the solid metal floor. Both hands stretched out for it as if he was about to take a match-winning catch. However, before Griff’s arms could close fully around the tough, black fabric, Hudson rushed forward and drove a shoulder into his bony ribs. If it had been a football match, Hudson would have made the perfect play. As soon as Griff’s back hit the floor, Hudson reached up and pressed the electroshock ring against his neck, holding it firmly against his mottled skin. Griff spasmed and convulsed like a dancing Halloween skeleton. Enjoying Griff’s pain perhaps a little more than he should, Hudson finally released the pressure and rolled aside. His own body was fizzing with adrenalin and residual shock from being in contact with Griff while the ring discharged.

  Hudson lay on his back for a minute or two in order to recover his breath and stop himself from shaking. Then he pushed himself to his feet and stared down at Griff. He was out cold, with an ugly burn mark smoldering on his neck, like a love bite gone horribly wrong.

  Hudson blew out a heavy sigh and then said, triumphantly, “Touchdown, asshole.”

  CHAPTER 22

  Hudson checked the time; first sunrise was a little under two Earth hours away. This was just enough time to grab some valuable relics and get to the transport. With Logan Griff still unconscious on the floor, Hudson set about scouring the vault for the choicest items to steal. Griff’s rucksack was too large and conspicuous, and the unregistered contents would still set off the Shaak radiation alarms. Every scavenger town had a very limited black-market trade in alien artefacts, but he didn’t have time to auction them on Brahms Three. In order to get off the planet without raising suspicion, he’d need something subtle; something he could find a way of hiding from t
he Shaak scanners.

  Hudson frantically searched the vault for something small and highly valuable. He then caught sight of what looked like a brown leather satchel, shoved into the far corner. He went over to check it, but as he picked it up, he realized that it wasn’t a satchel, but a jacket. He recognized it immediately as Ericka’s over-sized leather jacket. There was a bullet hole just above the left pocket, and Ericka’s blood was still visible.

  Hudson pressed his eyes shut and dropped to his knees, gripping the jacket as if it were a long-lost childhood teddy bear. Her death again played out in his mind, no matter how hard he tried not to see. The stab of guilt was powerful and unexpected. He thought he’d managed to bury his feelings, and was unprepared for how quickly and potently they had reemerged. “I’m sorry, Ericka…” he said out loud, though speaking the words didn’t make him feel any better.

  The constraints of time soon compelled him to get moving again. Wondering why the CET would bother to add the jacket to the vault at all, he checked the area around where he’d found it. There were several other items in the same location and a sign that said, ‘Incident 00F-1A (Case Closed) - Evidence to incinerate.’ Hudson released a heavy sigh, “Evidence to incinerate…” he spoke out loud, shaking his head. Then his mind went to a darker place, wondering what had become of Ericka’s body.

  He stood up and removed the CET military jacket belonging to Private Hanes, tossing it into the pile of other items marked for incineration. He then pulled on Ericka’s leather jacket, and smiled as he discovered that it fitted perfectly. It had been way too big for her, perhaps intentionally to mask weapons or otherwise just allow her to carry more on her person. However, on Hudson it looked like it had been tailored precisely to his measurements.

  Hudson pressed his hands into the pockets and found a small clip of hardbucks. He took it out and counted it; five hundred and thirty in total. Not much, but he was amazed the clip was still there at all. Obviously, the CET have more of a moral code than the bastards at the RGF, Hudson supposed. Then he felt something pressing into his chest and slipped his hand inside, discovering the concealed compartment that Ericka had shown him in the alley. The strange metallic, crystal was still there. He slid it out and held it in his hands, again transfixed by its mesmerizing alien sheen. “Well, you are certainly creating a lot of attention,” he said to the crystal, as if it could hear him. “I wonder what you are…” He slipped the crystal back into the compartment and smiled. He had an idea.