Rikkard's Revenge: A Military Sci-Fi Series (Darkspace Renegade Book 4)

by G J Ogden

  “How long until we reach the alien planet?” said Dakota, eventually breaking the silence. She was more subdued than Hallam had ever seen her. Normally, Dakota was the one to lift the cloud of gloom from any somber occasion. Not this time.

  “We’re not yet heading to the thirteenth world,” replied Dr. Rand. The way she spoke the words suggested the scientist thought this fact should have come as no surprise to either of them. However, a quick glance at Dakota suggested she was as astonished by Dr. Rand’s announcement as Hallam was. “We’re currently en route to Minerva,” Dr. Rand continued. She had not looked up from her palm computer, which she used so often that it was practically an extension of her body.

  Hallam felt annoyed that the scientist hadn’t offered a qualifying reason for their diversion, forcing him to once again push her for answers.

  “Doc, why the hell are we heading to Minerva?” said Hallam, spinning his chair to face her. “Last I heard, there were no high-tech alien gadgets on that planet. Just a load of new frontier types, looking to strike it rich or die trying.”

  Dr. Rand continued working on her computer without looking up. “Unfortunately, this vessel’s navigation system lacks the detailed data that I had uploaded to your renegade fighters,” she replied, fingers tapping lightly on the screen of the device. “Therefore, I must re-plot the course from a known point of reference.” Then she paused and corrected herself. “A point of reference known to this vessel’s computer, that is. And the closest is Minerva.”

  Hallam blew out a heavy sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb. He felt suddenly weary and hoped that he was merely experiencing a comedown from the huge adrenaline rush of their escape. However, at the back of his mind was a perpetual worry about the long-term impact of his exposure to Randenite radiation on Doyle’s now obliterated rogue world.

  “Do you still have the tablets I gave you, Mr. Knight?” asked Dr. Rand, who had paused from her work to glance up at Hallam.

  Hallam couldn’t remember if he’d packed them or kept them on his person and began patting himself down as if looking for lost car keys. He then found the packet in the breast pocket of his jacket and held them out to the scientist.

  “Take two of them now,” said Dr. Rand, looking down at her palm computer again.

  Dakota peered around the side of her seat as Hallam popped two pills out of the foil-backed plastic packet and tossed them into his mouth. Without any water to wash them down, the bitter taste made him gag and he almost spat them out.

  “Hey, are you okay?” Dakota said to Hallam. Then she quickly re-thought the question and directed a new one to Dr. Rand instead. “Is he okay? Why do you have him popping pills?”

  Dr. Rand peered over the top of her computer at Dakota, annoyed at the continual interruptions to her work. “Mr. Knight will be fine, so long as he keeps taking my medication.”

  The slightly non-committal answer did little to placate Dakota, nor did it make Hallam feel any less apprehensive. Dakota looked ready to press the enigmatic scientist further when the navigation computer began bleeping urgently. Dakota spun around to check it, but her silence and deepening frown suggested she wasn’t sure what the cause of the alert was. Hallam flicked to the navigation scanner readout on his terminal and was similarly perplexed.

  “I don’t understand these readings,” said Dakota, again distracting the scientist from her work. “It’s like there’s something else on the bridge with us.”

  Dr. Rand huffed a disgruntled sigh and leant over the back of Dakota’s chair to view the scanner readings. Then her bothered scowl morphed into one of apprehension.

  “You are correct, there is another ship following us along the same bridge,” said Dr. Rand.

  Hallam felt his pulse quicken and he too jumped up to view the full scanner readout. “How the hell has Cad Rikkard managed to follow us onto the bridge?” Hallam asked. He was cursing the mercenary’s persistence and ingenuity while also regretting having taunted him earlier.

  “There is nothing to stop other vessels traversing the temporary bridges that my advanced Shelby Drives construct,” replied Dr. Rand, though her tone was still anxious. “However, to do so is extremely dangerous. This is why I prevented the navigation systems on your renegade fighters from being able to achieve this.”

  “Dangerous, how?” asked Hallam, though he guessed he wasn’t going to like the answer.

  “At best, the bridge will destabilize and we’ll be thrown violently back into normal space,” the scientist replied. Then she met Hallam’s eyes and added, “At worst, the strain will tear a rift between bridge space and normal space, causing the bridge to collapse and space to fracture along our current trajectory. If that occurs close to Minerva, it could destabilize the entire planet.”

  For once, Hallam hadn’t needed to prompt the scientist for more details, though on this occasion, he almost wished she’d stuck to her usual vague responses.

  “So what do we do?” asked Hallam, suddenly feeling all of the stresses that had ebbed away earlier return with a vengeance. “Should we just drop out of bridge space now?”

  Dr. Rand shook her head. “Since they are travelling along the bridge this ship is creating, they would drop out almost on top of us,” she replied, returning her attention to her palm computer. “And then there would be nothing to stop them following us again, along any new bridge we created.”

  The mercenary fighter shuddered, as if they were flying in atmosphere and had just hit a patch of turbulence. Then it happened again, though with even greater intensity.

  “The mercenary ship is attempting to fire at us,” said Dr. Rand, who was beginning to look more uneasy with each passing second.

  “I’m not picking up any impact damage,” said Dakota, frantically checking the damage readouts.

  “That is because conventional weapons are useless inside bridge space. The physics of this domain are entirely different,” Dr. Rand answered. She was tapping on her palm computer with increasing rapidity, so that her fingers were almost a blur of motion. “The only damage they will deliver is to the integrity of the Shelby field.”

  Hallam had studied enough about Shelby Drive technology at the CSF academy to know that the Shelby field was the end result of Dr. Rand’s remarkable invention. The Shelby Drive was not an engine in a conventional sense. Instead, it created a protective cocoon around a ship that allowed the vessel to exist within bridge space. This was despite the laws that governed this mysterious sub-dimension differing from normal space in almost every regard. Like a bubble of air underwater, it allowed ships to travel through the unique medium without being consumed by it. However, if the bubble burst, the two different physical realities would rush into contact, like matter and antimatter, with similarly destructive properties.

  “The fool will kill us both,” snarled Dakota, her response suggesting she understood the dangers just as well as Hallam did. “We’re still a minute out from Minerva. Can we stay on the bridge until we get there, assuming that idiot merc keeps trying to shoot us down?”

  “I’m afraid not,” said Dr. Rand, finishing the calculations she’d been running and lowering the palm computer to her side. “The risk is too great. We must drop back into normal space as quickly as possible, then create a new bridge and hope that Cad Rikkard is not as adept as I am at reinitializing Shelby Drives.”

  Dakota cursed and returned to the controls, working fast to program an emergency shutdown of the Shelby Drive. The ship shuddered again as she worked, and Hallam turned an anxious eye toward the scanner. Then his heart leapt into his throat.

  “He’s right on top of us,” Hallam cried out, unable to contain the swell of panic building in his gut. “I think he’s trying to ram us!”

  Dr. Rand shot out of her seat, the palm computer sliding off her lap and slamming onto the deck as she did so. A split-second later, she was by Hallam’s side, scrutinizing the data. The ship was rocked again, but this time, it felt like an entire wrecki
ng crew was outside, battering the hull with sledgehammers.

  “He’s going to collapse the fields,” said Dr. Rand, placing a hand on Hallam’s shoulder. Her grip was so tight that it actually hurt. “Please give me your seat; we have no time to lose.”

  Hallam practically threw himself out of the chair to allow Dr. Rand into the second seat. The scientist’s fingers immediately set to work, tapping feverishly on the computer screens.

  “I suggest you take a seat and strap yourself in, Mr. Knight,” said Dr. Rand, glancing at Hallam over her shoulder. “If this works, we will drop out of bridge space somewhat severely.”

  “I don’t suppose you fancy telling us what your idea is, Doc?” said Hallam, rushing over to the auxiliary seat and pulling the harness tight around his chest.

  “I’m going to reverse the Shelby field,” said Dr. Rand. “This is the basis of the Darkspace Interjector technology I created so that you could knock the Randenite tankers out of bridge space.”

  “Will it work?” asked Hallam, hopefully.

  “If it doesn’t, Mr. Knight, then we won’t be around to find out,” replied the scientist. Her response was so dry that Hallam wasn’t sure if it was an attempt at humor or just Dr. Rand’s usual casually unflappable style.

  “You had to ask, didn’t you?” said Dakota, shaking her head at Hallam.

  However, Hallam wasn’t fazed by Dakota’s snarky comment. If he was going to get scattered across half the cosmos, he’d rather know about it than sit on his hands in fear and ignorance, just waiting for his fate to be delivered to him.

  “Hold on, everyone,” said Dr. Rand, sitting back and tightening her harness. “Reversing the field in three… two… one…”

  The swirling red lights outside vanished and were replaced by swirling streaks of silver instead. However, their stolen fighter hadn’t entered another new sub-dimension. They were back in normal space, but spinning end-over-end like a boulder hurtling down a grassy bank. Alarms wailed from half a dozen consoles and the ship shuddered, creaked, and groaned, like it was being fed through a mangle. Hallam gripped the arms of his chair and gritted his teeth, bearing down against the intense dizziness, pain, and nausea. He could see Dakota battling to regain control of the fighter, and slowly the streaks of silver resolved into single points of light. The alarms all silenced and Minerva arced into view ahead of them. However, Hallam could already see a new addition to the star system. Cutting through space directly toward the planet was a vast strip of pulsating energy, like an aurora borealis. The bridge had collapsed, opening a channel between normal space and bridge space, and Minerva was directly in its path.

  Hallam unclipped his harness and groggily staggered between Dakota and Dr. Rand’s seats to get a better look at the anomaly. Dr. Rand, who looked more clearheaded than Hallam felt, was already working on a new navigation sequence, while attempting to re-initialize their Shelby Drive. Suddenly, another alarm blared out, and Hallam recognized it as the standard collision alert tone. He craned his neck, peering out through the cockpit glass, then his mouth fell open. Cad Rikkard’s mercenary fighter was heading straight at them, spinning out of control.

  “Dak, fire the dorsal thrusters, now!” Hallam yelled. Dakota reacted instantly, pushing the fighter away from the approaching ship. Seconds later, the mercenary vessel raced overhead like a spinning shuriken star.

  Hallam watched Cad Rikkard’s vessel cartwheel into the darkness, but then his eyes were drawn back to the planet, which seemed to be growing larger. More than this, the planet no longer looked perfectly round. There were tufts of color sprouting from its surface, like solar flares erupting from the sun. And with every passing second, it seemed to draw closer.

  “Dak, are we moving toward Minerva?” Hallam asked, though his gut told him the answer was darker and much more unbelievable.

  “No, I’m registering us at a full stop, though I’m not sure I trust these readings,” replied Dakota. There was a brief pause before she added, scarcely believing her own words, “But somehow it looks like the planet is moving toward us...”

  “We’ll be gone before it gets here,” said Dr. Rand, again with remarkable composure. The scientist was the only one of them who didn’t appear nonplussed by the surprising events that continued to befall them. The pulsating beat of the Shelby Drive system then began to thump through the ship. However, Hallam was still gripped by the sight of the planet, expanding in size like one of Ruby’s gum bubbles.

  “What the hell is happening, Doc?” said Hallam, unable to tear his eyes off the planet.

  “The spatial fracture is tearing Minerva apart and drawing it closer,” Dr. Rand replied. Her hands were finally still and her eyes were now locked onto the dying planet. As Minerva had drawn closer, Hallam could see that the tufts sprouting from its surface were parts of the atmosphere, or maybe even oceans, bleeding into space. And already he could see fissures the size of North America rippling across the planet’s surface.

  “Are we safe here?” asked Dakota, also fixated on the spectacle.

  “This anomaly is uniquely localized along the trajectory of the collapsed bridge,” Dr. Rand replied, still sounding strangely calm. “For the moment, the surrounding space remains uncorrupted.” Then the scientist glanced at Dakota and Hallam in turn. “But it will not remain this way. Eventually, the effect will leak along the connecting bridges, rapidly accelerating their decay. It is only a matter of time.”

  Hallam peered down at his scanner readout and saw that Cad Rikkard’s fighter was still tumbling through the Darkspace. However, the course of the vessel did not align with the planet or the anomaly. At some point, the mercenary would resume control of his vessel and be able to continue his pursuit of them.

  “What about Cad Rikkard, can he still follow us if we bridge again?” asked Hallam, conscious that even the destruction of a planet likely wouldn’t be enough to throw the mercenary off their scent.

  “I have modulated the program to collapse the bridge entrance, seconds after we enter,” said Dr. Rand. The thrum of the Shelby Drive was beginning to dominate all other sounds in the cockpit, forcing the scientist to raise her voice to a shout. “He will not be able to follow us. But I have no doubt whatsoever that he will find us again.”

  Hallam didn’t respond and neither did Dakota. Both knew that Dr. Rand was right, and both knew that there was nothing more to say. Minerva would die. Vesta too, most likely, would share its fate, if it hadn’t already. Two of the twelve bridge worlds would not make it, no matter what Hallam Knight, Dakota Wulfrun, and Dr. Shelby Rand did next. However, the fate of ten other worlds and billions of lives continued to rest on their shoulders. If this wasn’t already enough to contend with, there was also the reality that the Blackfire Squadron was still on their tail. And Hallam knew that even if all the worlds crumbled to nothing, Cad Rikkard would never stop hunting them.

  7

  Cad Rikkard slammed the whiskey tumbler down onto the table and topped it up from the now half-empty bottle. Alexis Black sat opposite, and Cad was conscious that she was regarding him with a judgmental eye.

  “Do you have something to say?” growled Cad, growing tired of the disapproving looks.

  “You’re hitting that a little hard, aren’t you?” replied Alexis, folding her arms and reclining back in the rusted metal chair, which groaned under the added weight of her armor. The mercenary’s more icy, serious persona had remained dominant ever since they had lost the renegade ship near Minerva. Cad had put this down to his own foul mood and the fact he had yet to shake off the gloom that was immersing him.

  “You’re not normally one to caution against excess,” said Cad, taking another sip of the liquor. He knew Alexis was right, but he wasn’t in the mood for a lecture. He figured that if he was unable to repeatedly hit Hallam Knight in the face, he’d hit the bottle instead.

  “And this isn’t like you either,” Alexis hit back, still peering at him, arms folded tightly across her chest.

  Cad grunte
d again. Alexis wasn’t letting him off the hook, and her words were already getting to him. Cad knew that Alexis understood him better than anyone had ever done, living or dead. She probably knew him better than he knew himself, he admitted. However, Alexis wasn’t rebuking Cad for his misery and self-pity. If anything, she sounded concerned about him. And this was as unlike Alexis as it was for Cad to drink.

  Cad sighed and tossed the contents of the whiskey glass into the dirt. Then he set the glass down and pushed it into the middle of the table before resting back in his chair and folding his arms. “Speak your mind, Alexis,” he said. He genuinely wanted to hear her thoughts, though he still came across sounding a little petulant.

  “Okay, you asked for it,” said Alexis, leaning forward and locking eyes on Cad. Her raven skull pendant slid out from beneath the collar of her armor and dangled down. It caught the Pomonan evening sun and glinted hypnotically. “This thing with Hallam Knight is becoming an obsession. We’re taking crazy risks just to take him out, and look where it’s got us.” Alexis then gestured to the ramshackle bar they were sitting outside on the edge of a mining town on Pomona. They’d limped to the planet after crashing out of bridge space and almost getting consumed by Minerva as it was destroyed. “Who cares about these renegades and their mission?” Alexis went on. “Hell, after what we saw happen to Minerva, I even want them to succeed.”

  This last comment triggered Cad and he leant forward, slamming his armored fist on the table, denting it like it was made of putty. “They killed Draga, damn it,” Cad snarled. “We agreed to make them pay for that. I can’t believe you’d back down now.”