by G J Ogden
“Hal, come on, what are you waiting for!” he heard Dakota yell, but Hallam couldn’t take his eyes off Ruby and the two mercenaries. Watching with bated breath, he saw Ruby soak up a hard combo from Alexis, which dropped the renegade to her knees. The mercenary then reached down and crushed the exosuit’s power pack with her armored gauntlets, rendering it nothing more than a useless dead weight.
“Hal, where’s Ruby?” he heard Dakota cry, her voice strained and practically pleading with him. “We have to go!”
Hallam still didn’t answer; he couldn’t leave Ruby behind, even if it was the only way to save his own skin. He pushed off from the crumbled metal bay door and ran back inside the hangar. However, he’d barely made it ten meters before Alexis Black lifted Ruby Rivas to her feet and held her as Cad Rikkard thrust his sword through her gut. Hallam dropped to his knees as the iridescent steel-gray blade pierced through Ruby’s back. The mercenary held her upright, peering into the renegade’s startled eyes, as if watching the light leave them. Then Cad tilted the blade down, allowing Ruby to slide off the edge of the sword into a crumpled heap on the deck.
Hallam cried out, though it was just an animalistic wail. A mix of rage and terror and shock and guilt. Cad Rikkard and Alexis Black both looked up, their eyes meeting Hallam’s across the length of the hangar. Then both began charging toward him. Hallam wanted to stay and fight, but he knew it was hopeless. Too many had died already, and if he also fell, then everything they’d fought for would have been for nothing. He turned and ran, this time without looking back. His boots thudded up the rear ramp of Alexis Black’s fighter, and he dropped to his knees in the cargo hold, body trembling and lungs gasping for air.
“Where’s Ruby?” Dakota called back from the cockpit, but Hallam was still too dazed to answer.
Through the still open rear ramp, he could see Cad Rikkard and Alexis Black drawing closer, both holding renegade rifles that they’d collected off the deck as they ran.
“Hal, where’s Ruby?” Dakota shouted again.
“She’s gone…” Hallam called back, though his voice was weak and the sound barely carried beyond the end of the cargo hold.
“Hal, I can’t hear you…” Dakota said, but Hallam spun around and cut her off.
“She’s gone, Dak,” he cried out, and this time, his voice was steady, shored up by the adrenaline and anger surging through his body. “She’s gone… they killed her.”
Dakota’s lips trembled and she tried to speak, but no sound came out of her mouth.
“We have to go, Dak,” said Hallam, though even the act of speaking the words made him sick with guilt. “We have to go…”
Dakota’s lips pursed tightly together and her eyes shimmered with tears, then she turned away. The ramp began to close as bullets clattered inside the cargo hold. However, just as the renegade rifles had been ineffective against the mercenary’s power armor, they were similarly useless against the advanced armor of the Blackfire Squadron fighters.
Hallam felt the ship lift into the air, and he grabbed hold of anything he could find to steady himself as the vessel began to accelerate away from Dr. Rand’s hideout. However, he knew that they had not escaped from Cad Rikkard and Alexis Black yet.
5
Hallam untangled himself from the cargo netting in the hold of Alexis Black’s mercenary fighter and staggered toward the cockpit. The planet’s lush green terrain was flashing past beneath them as Dakota soared the stolen fighter fast and low away from the hideout. Hallam flopped into the auxiliary seat behind the Dr. Rand, who was focused on a row of computer consoles, brow furrowed.
“Rikkard has already launched,” Dakota called back, spotting Hallam in her peripheral vision. “We should stay inside the atmosphere until we’re ready to bridge. If we blast into space now, it will be a lot harder to evade them.”
Hallam glanced at the auxiliary console and saw Cad Rikkard’s fighter on the scanner, gaining on them steadily. The mercenary clearly knew the capabilities of the advanced vessel far better than Dakota did.
“We should have blown up the other damn fighter as soon as we took off,” said Hallam. With the benefit of hindsight, he realized how easily they could have prevented the Blackfire Squadron mercenaries from pursuing them.
“Honestly, Hal, it’s a miracle I even got this thing airborne,” said Dakota, who was cycling through different console screens and flicking switches seemingly at random. “I haven’t even worked out how to arm the weapons systems yet, so there’s no way I could have taken out Rikkard’s ship. It’s like this thing speaks a different language to the renegade fighters.”
Hallam scanned the flight deck and controls and considered that if he was in the pilot’s seat, he probably wouldn’t have even gotten off the ground yet. Dakota was right, the heavily modified and customized fighter seemed to have been uniquely tailored to its owner, like a custom-made suit.
“Thankfully, I have been able to access the Shelby Drive,” Dr. Rand chipped in, still focused on the computer screens. “However, the system fitted to this vessel is what you might call a ‘crude knock off’ of my self-bridging technology,” the scientist continued. She sounded affronted, as if she were an artist that had stumbled across a poorly-painted copy of her work in a gallery. “I will do my best to set a course for the alien homeworld, but we may be forced to adapt our plans.”
Hallam reckoned they probably had less than a minute before Cad Rikkard was in weapons range. That he hadn’t launched a missile at them already was telling, he thought. The mercenary still wanted their deaths to be intimate. A missile was too quick. Too impersonal. However, in their current situation, Cad’s fixation with killing Hallam face-to-face worked to their advantage, giving them precious extra time to escape.
“Right now, anywhere other than here will do, Doc,” said Hallam, conscious that even Dakota’s excellent piloting would be tested to the limit against Cad Rikkard, especially in an unfamiliar ship. “They’re already on our tail, and the longer we frustrate Rikkard, the greater the chance he’ll just blow us out of the sky and call it a day.”
Dr. Rand didn’t answer immediately, and instead continued to furiously tap away at the compact computer keyboard. Finally, she hit the command button, which executed with a satisfying clack, and rested back in her seat.
“It’s a crude hack, like this ship’s Shelby Drive, but the bridge program is running,” the scientist said. “However, we still have perhaps two or three minutes until the drive is fully spun up and ready.” The look on Dr. Rand’s face as she said this suggested she also knew that two minutes was more time than they had to spare.
Suddenly, the sharp report of metal striking metal rang through the cabin. “Hang on!” Dakota cried, pushing the fighter lower and banking sharply. However, despite the warning, Hallam was still nearly thrown to the deck.
“Did we take any damage?” asked Hallam, climbing back into his seat and peering down at his console. He cursed, unable to find the damage report readout within the unfamiliar menu system.
“I have no idea,” replied Alexis, banking hard in the opposite direction and dropping into a system of canyons. “And I still haven’t figured out how to activate the weapons in this thing, so we can’t even shoot back.”
Hallam unclipped his harness and gripped the back of Dakota’s seat for support. “Doc, would you mind changing places?” he asked the scientist. “These mercenary fighters have armor shields. If I can figure out how to activate them, it might give us the time we need to bridge out of here.”
Dr. Rand nodded and unclipped her harness. “Very well, Mr. Knight, but if I fall on my face, I will be most displeased,” she said humorlessly.
Hallam was again almost thrown to the deck as Dakota wrestled with the controls to keep them inside the narrow system of canyons. “You and me both, Doc,” he answered as Dakota jerked left then right, forcing him to grip on to the back of her seat with every ounce of strength in his body. Waiting for Dakota to level off again, Dr. Rand t
hen dove for the auxiliary seat, but misjudged and ended up almost headbutting it. “Doc, are you all right?” said Hallam. The scientist managed to pull herself into the chair and hurriedly fasten the harness. Blood was trickling from her nose, but she held up a hand to signify she was okay.
More metallic pings rattled the hull, and Dakota was forced to take desperate evasive action. Hallam was caught completely unprepared for the ferocious maneuver. He was first thrown into the cockpit glass, then hard to the deck before finally being tossed across the other side of the cabin, like a stuffed toy spinning around in a washing machine. Hallam cursed and rubbed his aching head, which felt like he’d just soaked up a solid left-right combo. For a moment, he didn’t know where he was, then he realized he was face down in something soft and warm.
“Hal, get the hell off me!” Dakota yelled.
Hallam jerked up to see Dakota’s horrified face staring down at him. He’d evidently landed face first in her lap. Hallam climbed off Dakota, feeling a swell of embarrassment in addition to the swell of bruises from being tossed around the ship. Clambering back to his seat, he finally managed to secure the harness. “Thanks for breaking my fall, Dak,” said Hallam, smirking at her. He thought that a bit of levity might cut through the tension.
“I’ll break your damn nose if…” Dakota began, clearly not seeing the funny side, but then she cut herself off mid-sentence. Cursing, she threw the fighter into another hard sequence of maneuvers as more cannon rounds flashed past, raking the surface of the rocky canyon. “Those armor shields would be good about now!” Dakota yelled, glancing across to Hallam.
Hallam stared at the screen, desperately trying to understand the mercenary fighter’s unfamiliar systems. “I’ll find you something, even if it means dropping the rear ramp and throwing my damn boots out at him,” he called back.
“Two minutes…” Dr. Rand said as the pulse of the Shelby Drive system began to build. Her voice, unlike those of Hallam and Dakota, was remarkably calm. “It would be preferable if we bridged while in space, rather than in atmosphere…”
Dakota pulled out of the canyon and banked hard to put a steep hillside between them and Cad Rikkard’s fighter, which was still pursuing them relentlessly. “I don’t think we’ll have a choice,” she called back to Dr. Rand. “I can’t even promise we won’t be a burning pile of wreckage in two minutes.”
The exchange between Dr. Rand and Dakota washed over Hallam like a light breeze. He was too engrossed in the command menus and systems of the mercenary ship to pay any attention to them. However, his concentration was paying off, and he was finally beginning to understand how the fighter’s systems worked. Most of it seemed to be done through interfaces in the helmet visor, which Dakota wasn’t wearing. However, the vital offensive and defensive systems were all neatly and conveniently arranged in an easy-to-reach menu system. Once you knew how it worked, it was simple and intuitive, Hallam realized.
“I think I’ve got this thing figured out,” Hallam said as Dakota pulled up hard and looped back on herself, narrowly avoiding another volley of cannon fire. “Dak, let him get on your tail, and then prepare to bank hard.”
Dakota laughed nervously. “Honestly, Hal, I don’t think that will be a problem…” she replied, leveling off and trying to turn in behind Cad’s ship. “What do you have in mind?”
Hallam activated the fighter’s defensive systems and hovered his finger over the screen. “I’m going to blow out every countermeasure we’ve got, and try to temporarily blind Rikkard’s sensors,” he said, watching as the enemy ship again managed to outmaneuver them. “Then you turn hard and I’ll raise the armor shields. With any luck, it will be enough to ride this out until the bridge drive kicks in.”
An alert rang out in the cockpit, and Hallam saw that the mercenary had a missile lock on them. Cad’s patience had clearly been exhausted.
“I told you it wouldn’t be hard to let him catch me,” said Dakota sarcastically. “Do it, and let’s hope this works…”
Hallam engaged the system, blanketing the space behind them with a chaotic mix of physical and electronic countermeasures. Even their own sensors glitched, and he lost track of Cad Rikkard’s fighter. However, Dakota then banked hard and began to climb, which was the cue for Hallam to act.
“I’m activating the shields, now!” Hallam called out. A shell of metal panels grew around the core systems, adding extra protection for the engines, flight controls, and cockpit. “It worked!” Hallam yelled, shaking his fist triumphantly. Then his mood – along with the entire cabin – darkened, as the shields also enclosed the cockpit glass in a cocoon of metal.
“Hal! What the hell!” Dakota yelled as the armor shields completely cut off her view outside the ship.
Another alert rang out and Hallam peered down at his screen, which was still a jumble of white noise. Then his eyes grew wide, spotting a missile soaring toward them through the maelstrom of interference. “Dak, bank hard right!” Hallam yelled.
“Hal, I can’t see!” Dakota hit back, but Hallam cut her off.
“Now, Dak, or we’re dead!” Hallam yelled.
Dakota growled and threw the controls right. Hallam saw the missile shoot past on his screen, missing by barely a meter. However, with the electronic countermeasure still pumping out interference, Cad was snap-shooting the missiles blind. The ping of cannon rounds hammering into the ship’s armor shields resonated through the cabin, then Hallam spotted that the comm system was flashing. He had no idea how long it had been that way, but it gave him an idea.
“Hang on, Dak, let me try something,” said Hallam, reaching for the communication console.
“Hang on!” exclaimed Dakota, who was still flying purely on instruments alone. “Hal, this isn’t a damn submarine. I’m supposed to be able to see where I’m going!”
Hallam ignored Dakota’s cries and enabled the comm channel.
“Return my ship and face me like a man, you coward!” snarled an incensed Cad Rikkard. Hallam had seen the mercenary angry, but this was a whole other level of wrath.
Hallam glanced to Dr. Rand and she mouthed the words “sixty seconds.” He could hear the rhythm of the Shelby Drive getting faster and knew he only had to stall the mercenary for a short time.
“You mean like how you bravely faced Ruby Rivas,” Hallam hit back. He hadn’t intended to bring up Ruby. Her name and the memory of her death had just sprung back into his mind, and now the pain stabbed at him again. Dakota was peering at Hallam, her eyes revealing the same pain and anguish that Hallam was feeling. “You know, our friend who you stabbed through the gut while she was held helplessly in front of you? That shows exactly the kind of man you are, Rikkard. You’re the coward, hiding behind your armor!” Hallam added, practically yelling through the mic.
“Draga Vex was worth a hundred of that pathetic girl!” Cad spat back. Dakota looked like she was ready to punch her way through the armor shields with her bare fists and throw herself at Rikkard’s ship. “Land and face me now,” the mercenary went on. “There’s nowhere you can go that I won’t find you. At least die with some honor and self-respect. Your cowardice and tricks won’t save you forever. I am superior to you in every way, Knight. I swear to you now that you will admit this to my face before you die.”
Hallam muted the comm channel, then roared and slammed his fist on the console. “Give me some good news, Doc…” he said, turning to Dr. Rand.
“We’re ready,” the scientist replied. “Just keep him talking for a few more seconds while I adjust the program for an in-atmosphere bridge entry.”
Hallam clicked open the comm channel again and leant in closer so that his lips were almost touching the mic. “You’re right about one thing, asshole,” spat Hallam, suddenly opening the tap on the raw emotions he’d been bottling up. “There will come a time when we meet, face to face. But it will be after we’ve stopped the bridges from collapsing. And you won’t need to worry about finding me, because I’ll find you. And then we’ll see just h
ow superior you really are.”
A roar was fed back through the speaker, but it was more like the snarl of the reptilian monsters from the rogue world than any sound uttered by a man. Then the thrum of the Shelby Drive built to a crescendo, and the advanced mercenary fighter vanished from the planet’s atmosphere in the blink of an eye. Hallam withdrew the armor shields, and bright, swirling patterns of red filled his eyes, forcing him to squint them shut.
“We’ve done it,” said Dr. Rand, flopping back in her seat. “We’re through…”
Hallam let out a heavy sigh and reached over to Dakota, taking her hand in his. She smiled at him and squeezed back, but her grip trembled. Hallam didn’t know whether it was his hand that was shaking, or hers.
Nothing that had happened in the last hour had gone as they’d planned, but somehow, they’d scraped through. Then Hallam shut his eyes, remembering Ruby and Castell and the other renegades that had perished on the hideout. Some of us scraped through anyway… he corrected himself.
The next stop for the Wolf Squadron and leader of the Darkspace Renegades was a planet that for over a decade had been considered mere myth, like El Dorado or Atlantis. However, the distant and dangerous alien homeworld was real. And the secrets it contained were now their only hope to stop the collapse of the bridge network and prevent the human race from being wiped out of existence.
6
Hallam closed his eyes and let his body go slack, allowing the seat take his full weight. He wasn’t especially tired, despite the events in the renegade base being physically and mentally draining. It was more an attempt at meditation. A way to bleed the anger from his belly like air from a tire. Now that they were inside the relative safety of bridge space in their stolen mercenary fighter, everyone had become contemplative. It was like they’d all wordlessly agreed to observe a minute’s silence for the fallen. Cad Rikkard’s continued, relentless pursuit of Hallam, Dakota, and Dr. Rand had cost many lives. And while none were more important than any other, the loss of Ruby Rivas was already felt keenly, by Dakota in particular.
