by G J Ogden
Hudson had run ahead to get the Orion started, while Tory helped the injured Ma inside. He’d barely had time to drop into the pilot’s seat, before he saw the arrow-like shape of seed ships soaring overhead. One cut through a departing freighter, smashing it apart like a walnut being cracked open.
“Martina is strapped in, go!” cried Tory as she dropped into the second seat and hurriedly fastened her harness.
Hudson lifted the Orion off the deck and pushed the throttle forward. Another freighter surged ahead of him and he threw the controls hard to port to avoid it, before a seed ship cut past and sliced a chunk out of the freighter’s rear quarter. The larger ship’s engines flashed out and it sank like a stone, before smashing through the control tower. It exploded like a bomb had just gone off, engulfing two other ships, before they could escape the inferno.
“We have a seed ship on our tail,” Tory called out, as she activated the Orion’s enhanced weapons systems. “If we stay in the atmosphere, it might level the playing field. We’ve seen how those things seem to defy physics.”
“There won’t be an atmosphere soon,” Hudson replied. “Hell, there won’t even be a planet in a few minutes, but I’ll see what I can do…”
Hudson leveled off and pushed the Orion harder across the barren terrain of Brahms Three. The navigation scanner showed the seed ship in pursuit, but then a second chevron appeared close behind it. “Shit, there’s two after us now!” Hudson called out, pushing the Orion as hard as he could. “I’ll try to lose them.”
Tory shook her head, “They’re gaining too quickly, we have to destroy them, before they smash us like an egg.”
Hudson checked the scanner again and saw that Tory was right. He tightened his grip on the throttle and steeled himself. “Hang on everyone!” he called out, hoping his voice would carry to Ma too. “Let’s see if these alien bastards can handle a good, old-fashioned dogfight.”
Hudson cut the throttle and hit the airbrakes, then pulled up. The g-forces pressed him hard against his harness, but he held the move until the two seed ships raced past. Pushing the throttle forwards again, he turned towards the nearest seed ship, which was banking hard to reacquire them.
“Take the shot!” cried Hudson, struggling to match the seed ship’s sharp turning circle.
Energy bolts flashed out ahead of the Orion as Tory engaged the alien vessel. The first four bolts shot past the seed ship, narrowly missing, but then the next two landed square on the hull. The seed ship exploded and spiraled to the ground in flames.
Breathing out and sucking in another breath, Hudson craned his neck, looking for the second ship, before he saw it coming at them on a collision course. He throttled up and jinked the Orion in the opposite direction, and the seed ship shot past, missing only by meters. Hudson wrestled to regain control as the pressure wave buffeted the Orion, then he turned towards the seed ship, which was trying to loop around to make another run.
Hudson watched anxiously as the targeting reticule searched for a lock. Come on! Hudson urged, as the seed ship completed its turn and accelerated towards them. Then the crosshairs locked on and Tory fired. Without waiting to find out if she’d hit, Hudson banked hard, then the burning remains of the seed ship roared past, like a giant flaming arrow.
“That was close!” Tory called out, as Hudson pulled the Orion into a steep climb.
“Too close!” Hudson shouted back, peering out of the window at the surface of the planet, which was now breaking apart. “But we’re not out of this yet,” Hudson added, switching the waypoint on the navigation scanner to the portal’s location.
The Orion surged through the remains of the planet’s collapsing atmosphere and into space, directly into the path of the core matter that Goliath had ejected. It was glowing, like a mini sun, bleeding its heat into space. Hudson knew that it would soon fall into the planet's gravity well and turn Brahms Three into the galaxy’s latest asteroid field.
Hudson veered away from the core matter and accelerated the ship towards the portal, before quickly glancing down at the navigation scanner again. No other seed ships were in pursuit; they were in the clear. Hudson allowed his muscles to relax and then throttled back, before spinning the ship around to take one final look at Brahms Three.
“What the hell kind of power can do that?” said Ma, suddenly appearing at Hudson’s side. The planet was already fractured and collapsing into itself.
Hudson glanced up at Ma. He’d never seen her looking so sullen. It was like the breaking apart of the planet had fractured her heart too. He brought up an enlarged view of Goliath on one of the monitors. The great ship was still turned towards the planet, as if gleefully spectating its demise.
“That’s what can do this,” said Hudson. The sight of Goliath still sent a chill down his spine.
Ma sighed heavily, then simply said, “Why?”
Hudson wasn’t used to hearing sadness in Ma’s voice. Even on a planet that was as bleak as Brahms Three could often be, she had always maintained a sunny disposition. However, faced with Goliath’s apocalyptic power, she was reduced to asking the one simple question that mattered.
“Hate,” replied Hudson, solemnly. “Nothing more. That ship is a raw nerve. It’s pure rage, and all it wants to do is destroy us.”
Hudson heard the material covering his headrest creak as Ma tightened her grip on it. It was like she was imagining she could somehow choke the life out of the alien that had destroyed her home.
“So, how do we kill it?” Ma asked, before meeting Hudson’s eyes. “There must be a way to kill it, right?”
Hudson looked back at what remained of Brahms Three, then at the image of Goliath, which was slowly turning towards the portal, and gathering up its seed ships, ready to unleash them again on its next victim. He gave a slight shrug. “I hope so.”
Ma moved away for a second, then returned with a square bottle of whiskey. She removed the cork and said, “To Brahms Three. And to taking out the alien bastard that destroyed it.” She took a swig, before handing the bottle to Hudson. He drank and then passed it to Tory, who did the same, also without saying a word. Then they watched in silence, as Brahms Three was finally reduced to rock and dust.
CHAPTER 14
Griff stepped off the dilapidated shuttle that Yaeger had sold them on Mars and looked around the rendezvous point. Despite being a popular tourist spot, Cutler Wendell had chosen an area of Point Reyes that was well off the beaten track. This, combined with the fact most people on Earth seemed to be hunkered down in fear of the approaching alien invader, meant there was no-one else around for at least a kilometer in any direction. However, there was also no sign of the hostile mercenary, either.
The roar of another ship’s engines filled the air and Griff watched as Jane Wash circled around in her personal RGF Transport, before landing a couple of hundred meters away. Her transport was basically a standard RGF Patrol Craft, but without the weapons and with considerably more creature comforts. It was a perk of Wash’s former position that she obviously hadn’t wanted to give up. Certainly, compared to the crappy shuttle that Cutler had traded his desirable FS-31 for, it was luxurious. Wash’s ship also worked faultlessly, which was something that also could not be said for the shuttle. This was despite Swinsler’s inept attempts to rush through some rapid repairs. If it hadn’t been for the shuttle’s hazardous condition, he would have taken great pleasure in suggesting that Cutler trade the crystal for Wash’s ship instead. He was still considering it, just to see the look on the cantankerous witch’s face, but as much as it would bring him satisfaction, his own sense of self-preservation had prevailed.
“So, where is he?” asked Wash, promenading up beside Griff and hugging herself tightly as a gentle breeze picked up. Griff had never seen anyone look so ill-at-ease in the outdoors as Wash looked then. Boardrooms and social engagements were her natural habitat; anywhere that she could brown-nose other members of the military and political elite.
“How the hell should I know
?” snapped Griff. “I’m sure he’s lurking around here somewhere.”
Wash drew her pistol and moved closer to Griff, almost as though she was using him as a shield.
Griff shook his head, “Relax, he’s not going to shoot us, at least not until he has the shuttle,” he said. “I have to transfer the ID fob to him first, otherwise he won’t be able to fly it. I can’t do that if I’m already dead.”
Wash didn’t seem convinced, “But he flew it back here from Mars, surely he already has the same access you do?”
Griff held up the fob, “I already used the RGF bypass hardware to delete his ID. I’m not stupid.”
Wash raised her eyebrows, “That is debatable.”
Griff glared back then turned away to resume his survey of the surrounding area. “Well, I guess we’d better hope that Cutler has a higher opinion of me than you do,” he answered, testily.
“Again, I doubt it,” sneered Wash.
Griff was a second away from spinning around and throttling his former commander, but then he caught sight of something moving out of the trees. Moments later, Cutler Wendell appeared, walking out into the open brazenly and seemingly without fear.
“There he is,” said Griff, pointing Cutler out to Wash. He noted that the mercenary didn’t appear to be armed, and that his shoulder was also heavily strapped up, but from the quality of the work, it didn’t look to have been self-administered. Griff became immediately suspicious, and drew his sidearm just to be sure, but held it low.
“I am unarmed,” said Cutler in his droning voice. “So, you can holster your weapons.”
“Like I’m going to trust you, after the shit you pulled?” laughed Griff. “You’re lucky I don’t just shoot you now, and take the crystal off your still warm body.”
Cutler did not appear at all intimidated by Griff’s warning. “I suspected you might threaten such an obvious act,” said the mercenary, contemptuously, “which is naturally why the crystal is inside a locked container. A real lock, not one that your infamous RGF skeleton keys would be able to open.”
“Yeah, well I also erased your ID from the shuttle’s fob, before you get any ideas about stealing it,” Griff hit back, eager to show he was just as shrewd as Cutler.
Seemingly emboldened by Cutler’s lack of a weapon, Wash stepped forward. “Can you two blowhards just skip the foreplay so we can get down to business?” she said, straightening her back, and looking down her nose at Cutler. “Do you have the crystal or not?”
Cutler slowly reached into his jacket pocket, watched attentively by Griff and Wash, then removed a small metal box. “I merely want the shuttle,” he said. “Then I will gladly depart, and you will never see me again.”
Griff was still suspicious; it all seemed to be too easy, and also too reasonable. He had expected Cutler to push for more than a crapped-out old shuttlecraft. He pointed to Cutler’s shoulder, “You seem to have been patched up pretty well. Who helped you?”
Cutler smiled, “Ah, the ever-paranoid Logan Griff,” he said, in a flat, mocking tone. “It may shock you to know that, unlike yourself, I do have other acquaintances on Earth.”
“Just no-one who would buy the crystal from you?” replied Griff, still pushing. There was something about Cutler’s demeanor he found off, before he then realized what it was – the mercenary wasn’t angry. Even for someone as generally composed as Cutler was, he still expected a great deal of bitterness and resentment over what had happened.
“As I’m sure you are aware, this crystal is wanted by the CET and MP, which makes it a somewhat difficult item to move,” replied Cutler. “For you two distinguished RGF officers, however, it may provide enough leverage to keep you out of a cell. For me, a mere mercenary, it would not.”
Wash holstered her weapon, and stepped forward. “Okay, let’s just get this done, so I can get out of these damn woods,” she snapped. She started vigorously rubbing her shoulders, as if she were standing at the South Pole, rather than the breezy, but moderate climate of the national seashore. “Open the box, and put it on the ground, then back away. Griff will set the ID fob to imprint mode, and toss it to you when we have the item.”
Cutler shook his head, “I am not opening this box while you two are still armed,” he said, smoothly. He looked over to his left, “Toss your weapons into the long grass, then we can make the exchange.”
Griff was about to tell Cutler where he could get off, but Wash cut in.
“Fine, if that will satisfy you,” she said, before tossing her weapon. Then she looked at Griff, expectantly.
“Are you mad?” he hissed.
“Just toss the damn pistol,” Wash snapped. “If he tries anything, it’s two on one, and he’s injured.” Then she looked at Griff, provokingly, “Even someone as puny and pitiable as you should be able to subdue an injured man.”
Griff growled, then tossed his weapon too. “There, now open the damn box and piss off,” he snapped, pulling a cigarette from his breast pocket.
Cutler smiled, before entering the combination into the lock and opening the lid. He set the box down, so that Griff and Wash could clearly see the contents, and took two paces back. “Now, the ID fob, if you don’t mind,” he said, opening a hand towards Griff.
Griff lit the cigarette and held the shuttle’s ID fob in front of his face. He activated it and said, “Voice print ID, Logan Griff. Erase and set imprint mode.” The fob bleeped, scanned his eyes, then flashed green. Griff sucked on the cigarette, and tossed Cutler the device.
“A pleasure,” said Cutler, catching the ID fob with one hand, and backing away towards the shuttle. He was still wearing a saccharin smile, which continued to make Griff feel anxious.
Wash collected the box and plucked out the crystal, before discarding the container like a piece of trash. “Is this it?” she asked, holding the crystal up to the light and sounding hugely unimpressed. “I expected something more ornate.”
“It’s not a piece of damn costume jewelry,” grumbled Griff, turning to look at Wash. Then he saw the crystal in her hand and snatched it from her. “Shit!” he cursed, before turning back to Cutler. “This isn’t it! That double-crossing bastard has conned us!”
Wash screamed, then ran to find her weapon. “Don’t just stand there, go after him!” she yelled, as she frantically scrambled around in the long grass.
Griff shoved the fake crystal into his pocket and raced after the mercenary. Then he saw more movement in the trees ahead, and abruptly stopped, skidding across the dry grass. Cutler was already at the shuttle, but before he went inside, he turned back to face Griff. He was smiling more broadly than ever.
“I was not lying when I said the crystal didn’t provide me sufficient leverage,” Cutler shouted out to Griff. “But handing you and Miss Wash over to the CET authorities gave me all the leverage I needed.”
“You bastard, I’ll get you for this!” Griff roared. Then he heard urgent shouts from the trees ahead, and saw the distinctive uniforms of CET soldiers advancing.
Griff turned and ran back towards Wash’s RGF Transport. “It’s a trap!” he shouted, as Wash came towards him, weapon in hand. She glanced over towards the shuttle and saw the CET soldiers. Instinctively, she fired four shots towards them, forcing the soldiers to dive behind cover, and then ran after Griff.
Shouts of “freeze” and “stand down” blared out behind, but Griff ignored them. He reached the RGF Transport and searched for another weapon. Finding a flare gun, Griff leaned around the door and shot at the approaching soldiers, hitting one in the chest with the burning projectile. The soldier went down, screaming, in a cloud of bright red smoke. Wash raced inside, slapping her pistol into Griff’s hand, before running to the cockpit.
“Keep firing at them!” she yelled, as she powered up the engines, bypassing all the safety checks.
Griff continued to shoot until he emptied his magazine. The RGF Transport suddenly lifted off, and Griff had to grab hold of the handle on the inside of the door to keep from fal
ling out. Gunfire crackled at them from below, and bullets pinged off the hull of the transport, but, like the RGF Patrol Crafts, the ship was hardened and designed to take enemy fire.
Griff hauled himself back inside and hit a button to close the hatch. He then dragged himself into the cockpit, as Wash turned south along the shoreline, staying as low as possible.
“Head North!” yelled Griff, realizing that Wash seemed to be flying back towards San Francisco.
“No, we need to reach the city,” Wash shouted back. “They won’t attack us over a populated area.”
Griff shook his head, and climbed into the second seat. “Damn it, Wash, what kind of bubble do you pen-pushers live in?” he snapped, “The city’s air defenses will destroy us before any CET patrol can! Head towards Canada, we have to lose them in the forests!”
Wash turned out over the water and then back north, remarkably without any complaint or curt response. Griff fastened his harness and checked the navigation scanner, but already he could see two red CET blips approaching.
“I’ll kill that rat bastard, I swear I will!” Griff yelled, slamming his fists onto the armrests and cursing himself for not seeing Cutler’s deception sooner. “That’s the last time Cutler Wendel gets the better of me.”
Yet, despite his angry declarations, Griff knew that Cutler Wendell was now the least of his problems. All that mattered was avoiding capture, and in order to succeed, he was once again forced to rely on the most unlikely of allies.
CHAPTER 15
Griff anxiously tracked the progress of the pursuing CET ships on the scanner, as Wash continued to fly fast and low up the northern coast of California. The two CET vessels were still in pursuit, but there were also multiple new warnings on his monitor. The whole state had been put on alert, and he knew they wouldn’t be able to stay airborne for long.
