by G J Ogden
Draga made a move toward the opening, but this time, Cad was quicker. His blood was pumping, adrenaline was surging, and his fears were calcifying into rage. He discarded the rifle and drew the Black Prince sword from its scabbard. The renegades had now made it personal, and his reprisal would be equally intimate. The rifle was too quick – too easy. Cad wanted to see the life leave his enemy’s eyes, and to feel their last breath on his face as he slid the blade deeper into their flesh.
Cad stood on the threshold then launched his body through the opening and into the Darkspace Renegade hideout. The mission was no longer at the forefront of his mind. Now his mind and body were gripped only with a hunger for retribution.
18
Cad Rikkard landed on the deck of the renegade command operations center like a Greek god descending to Earth from Olympus. The sudden shock arrival of the sword-wielding mercenary in shimmering power armor stunned the renegades and gave Cad the opening he needed to attack.
Advancing with his sword raised, Cad cut down the first two renegades with a brutal combination of strikes, driven by the anger and terror that was fueling his bloodlust. Bullets pinged off his armor, but he ignored the danger and vaulted the outer row of consoles, driving the blade hilt-deep into the chest of a third man.
The renegades began to mobilize and Cad could hear their frantic calls for help, directed down the connecting corridor to the main part of the base. More bullets landed on his armor, and Cad swung again and again, first removing a renegade’s arm below the shoulder before practically cleaving another in half; such was the unrestrained ferocity of his blows. Renegades fled from his path as Cad advanced toward the commander in the center of the room. More shots landed and Cad felt the bite of pain, but nothing was going to stop his relentless advance. The edge of the Black Prince sword was wet with the blood of two more renegades before there was another resonant thud on the deck plating. Draga Vex had arrived, mystery weapon slung across her back and shotgun in hand. Deafening booms drowned out the panicked shouts of the terrified renegades as Draga unloaded into the room. For once, her bloodlust was at a level below that of her leader’s. Cad could see that she was careful to avoid taking out the commander – more careful than Cad was able to be at that moment, such was the overwhelming influence of his fury.
Draga advanced, taking down four then five then six renegades before she stood at the entrance to the connecting tunnel. There she unslung the equipment from her back and set it down, then pressed a single red button on the top. Cad finally realized what it was, and were he less filled with bile, he would have commended Draga for her ingenuity and foresight. However, there was no room in his thoughts for anything other than Alexis and murder.
The sentry turret unfurled from its inactive state, dropping spidery legs onto the deck before a powerful automatic cannon rose from the central column. Renegades started to pour down the corridor, unaware of the trap that Draga had laid for them. A second later, the turret had tracked its first target and begun to fire. Leaving the automated weapon to deal with the choke point, Draga moved into the side rooms that were linked to the operations center, calmly reloading her shotgun as she moved.
Cad was hit from the rear and turned to see a renegade feebly attempting to crack his armor with a piece of twisted metal from a collapsed section of roof. Grabbing the renegade by the neck with his left hand, Cad lifted the helpless man off the deck, tightening his hold as he did so until he heard the throat collapse and the neck snap. Tossing the man away like a piece of garbage, Cad leapt over the final row of consoles to the backdrop of Draga’s booming shotgun and the rapid pounding thump of the sentry turret.
“Shut down the outer defenses and seal this room!” Cad growled, aiming the tip of his blood-stained sword at the base commander’s neck. He was now the only renegade left alive in the entire operations center.
The renegade commander vacillated, seemingly torn between bravely resisting Cad’s threats and capitulating to the mercenary’s demands. It was a choice between selfless duty and self-preservation. Normally, Cad would have encouraged his enemy to see reason and to graciously admit their defeat. He was not a monster or a crude implement of destruction. Any thug could kill. Cad Rikkard’s skill was in making his enemies realize the certainty of their death and to recognize his superiority. He wanted them to stoop and prostrate themselves before him prior to ending their lives with honor. Not this time. This time, Cad would make them suffer.
Driving the tip of the blade into the commander’s shoulder, Cad reiterated his order. “Shut it down and seal that door, now!” he barked, continuing to press the razor-sharp metal through the man’s flesh as he spat each word. The blade had now penetrated through the rear of the commander’s shoulder, blood pouring from the tip.
Mewling muted screams of anguish, the commander struggled over to his console and entered a sequence of commands. Moments later, a heavy blast door thudded down, closing off the corridor linking the operations center to the main base. The sentry stopped firing and emitted a deep, whirring groan as its motors relaxed like aching muscles. The barrel was glowing red like a hot poker, yet the weapon had already left its mark.
Cad checked the watch built into his armor, which was linked to the sensors in his fighter, and confirmed that the outer defense turrets had powered down.
“I’ve done… what you asked…” the commander said, face still contorted in agony. “Spare my people… I will… order them to… stand down!”
The renegade’s pitiful pleas for mercy merely served to further enrage Cad. He slowly removed the blade from the man’s shoulder and allowed the commander to slump forward onto the console, clutching his wound and gasping for breath.
“Is this your main command computer?” Cad asked, tapping the console with the sword.
A twisted frown was added to the commander’s already tortured expression. “Yes, but…”
Cad did not allow the man to finish the sentence. Spinning on his heels, he swung the Black Prince sword and removed the commander’s head in a single clean strike.
No sooner had the severed head hit the deck than an alarm sounded, except this time, it was not coming from any of the consoles. He peered down at the headless body and saw that the watch on the commander’s wrist was pulsing red.
A life signs monitor… Cad realized before a powerful mechanical thud shook the room, centered on a large metal door to the rear. Cad knew what was coming. He’d faced one before. This time, however, he was more than ready for it.
The heavy door slid open and the colossal metal frame of an Achilles Seven UGV stepped through, sparked into action by the death of the base commander. Cad placed the Black Prince down on the command console and advanced toward the powerful combat bot, slowly drawing the Electroblade from its sheath on his back as he did so. The weapon was a sword in everything but name, with one major difference, which was that its blade could be charged with electrical energy.
Cad twisted the activation ring at the base of the hilt and heard the crackle of energy enliven the edge. Vaulting the row of consoles, his advance seemed to confuse the mighty combat machine, whose twisted logic circuits perhaps expected Cad to retreat rather than attack. They met in a clear section of the deck, in front of the layers of computers, all of which were now devoid of any potential spectators.
The Achilles Seven attacked first, driving toward Cad with arms swinging, but he evaded the strikes and rolled past the machine. The Electroblade flashed through the air, striking the combat bot’s shoulder and producing an intense spark of energy. Residual crackles of electricity rippled through its frame, and it appeared momentarily stunned.
Cad attacked again, but his eagerness got the better of him, and the bot’s breeze-block-sized hand hammered into Cad’s armored chest. He was thrown through the air, colliding hard with the metal panels forming the outer-row of computer consoles. He tasted blood, but it only made his desire to destroy even stronger. Pushing himself upright, he advanced again, blocking th
e bot’s next strike with his reinforced forearm. The armor cracked and buckled, unable to repel the colossal might of the Achilles Seven, but Cad had no intention of winning a battle of strength. Raising the Electroblade high, he brought the crackling blade down onto the machine’s faceless cranial unit. The entire body of the Achilles Seven crackled and sparked as the blade dumped its charge into the machine’s circuits, but Cad continued to press down, gritting his teeth and forcing the suit to give him every last watt of power it could muster. The Achilles Seven crumbled to its knees and slumped forward, cranial unit bowed low. Cad released the weapon from his grasp as the Electroblade fizzed and sparked, smoke rising from the handle. The grip then blew itself apart, like a firecracker exploding.
“Cad…”
Cad stopped dead, leaving the now broken weapon impaled deep into the machine. Standing tall and perfectly still, he listened again for the voice.
“Cad, do you read me?”
Cad’s eyes widened as he realized it was the voice of Alexis Black. “Yes, I read you Alexis,” he replied, rushing his words out. “What’s your condition?”
“I’m hurt…” said Alexis, sounding weak but not afraid. “I crashed on the moon’s surface. Location unknown. All power has failed.”
“Hang tight, Alexis, I’m coming!” cried Cad, raising his wrist and recalling his fighter with a single command from his watch.
Draga Vex reentered the command operation center and inspected the carnage before she addressed Cad. “The rest of them are dead, but that door won’t hold the others forever,” she said, again with the cool clinicality that Cad expected of her. “Any news of Alexis?” she added, allowing a hint of concern to bleed into her voice.
“She’s alive, for now,” said Cad, vaulting the rows of computer consoles to reach Draga’s side.
“She is strong,” said Draga. “She’ll live.”
Cad nodded then recovered his Black Prince sword and sheathed it before tapping a finger on the command computer.
“Recall your ship, and load this onto it,” Cad said, turning back toward the breaching pod.
“Stay on your guard; they could still launch their fighters,” said Draga, not questioning where Cad was going.
Cad knew she would have guessed his intentions and would never try to talk him out of his decision. However, Draga had a far cooler head than Cad at that moment, and she was right to warn him. He knew the odds of taking out a squadron of renegade fighters on his own were slim, but this time, he didn’t care about the odds. Nothing would stop him from rescuing Alexis.
Cad leapt up and grabbed the edge of the breaching pod, pulling himself inside. “Find me when you’re done here. I may need your help,” he called back to Draga through the opening.
Draga nodded. “I’ll see you out there,” she said, turning to the computer and beginning the task of forcing it free of its mounting.
Cad felt and heard the thump of his fighter docking to the breaching pod, and was about to enter the main compartment when he had a final thought. Ducking back inside the command operations center, he called over to Draga. The mercenary turned and awaited his order patiently. Her killing spree had sated her hunger, at least for now, Cad realized.
“Once you’re off this base, I want you to reduce it to dust,” Cad said, his mind returning to his mission and his plan, now that he knew Alexis was still alive. “Send them a message. Nuke the damn base and everyone still in it.”
19
Cad Rikkard thumped his fist on the door to Falken’s lair for the fifth time. Each successive bout of hammering had been harder than the last, and now his hand throbbed. A light dusting of snow had already coated his flight suit and hair while he’d been waiting, and the cold was quickly seeping into his bones.
“Come on, damn you!” Cad snapped as he thumped his fist again. Then he felt a thud on his back, and he quickly drew his pistol and spun around, pulse quickening at the anticipation of an attack. However, all he discovered was the remains of an icy snowball stuck to the back of his shoulder. He glanced up at the innocent-looking face of Alexis Black before casting his eyes across to Draga.
“Don’t look at me…” said Draga huffily, while Alexis faced away, pretending to inspect her nails, despite the fact that she was wearing gloves.
“Shouldn’t you still be on bed rest?” Cad called over to Alexis, who mimed a “who, me?” gesture in response. Then the heavy metal door to Falken’s lair finally creaked open.
“At last. I’ve been freezing my ass off out here!” Cad barked, shoving the door open wider. He picked up the command computer that Draga had removed from the renegade base and stepped past Falken into the warmth of her mountain den.
“I told you, it takes me a while to get down here,” said Falken. She was unapologetic, but also unfazed by Cad’s rudeness.
“Couldn’t you install an automatic door buzzer or something?” Draga chipped in, also walking inside while irritably brushing the snow from her black one-piece jumpsuit.
Alexis walked in next, wound-dressings visible on her neck and chest, extending inside her flight suit.
“You look like you’ve been in the wars,” said Falken, observing Alexis’ various injuries as the mercenary closed the heavy metal door behind her.
“Always…” Alexis replied, winking at Falken and sashaying along the corridor in pursuit of Cad and Draga.
Lugging the heavy command computer console through the maze-like structure of the lair was more challenging than Cad had anticipated, and he wished he’d worn his power armor. Eventually, he reached Falken’s mezzanine-level working space and dumped the bulky piece of equipment on the floor. Another twentieth century movie was playing on the old-fashioned cinema screen. The movie involved a couple of teenagers messing around on an ancient-looking computer in what appeared to be the boy’s bedroom. On the screen was an extremely basic wireframed representation of the United States and the old Soviet Union, with what looked like random numbers underneath. Cad scowled, but almost at the same time, Alexis chirruped an excited noise as she entered the mezzanine and saw the movie playing. She then wasted no time in hurrying over to the enormous selection of drinks and snacks that Falken kept stocked up on the side wall. She grabbed a luminous orange soda and a large bag of popcorn before seating herself on the sofa in front of the screen.
“That crap’s no good for you,” commented Cad as Alexis pulled open the silver-foil bag.
“It’s medicinal,” said Alexis with a shrug, tossing some popcorn into her mouth.
Meanwhile, Falken had been busy connecting the command computer to a device nestled alongside her primary system, using an array of brightly-colored cables.
“Can I keep this?” said Falken, gently patting the command computer as if it were a puppy. “Once I’m done getting the information you need, I mean.”
Cad shrugged. “I don’t give a damn what you do with it,” he answered brusquely. Then he scowled, intrigued by the request, and added, “Why? What good is that beat-up old thing to you?”
“You’re kidding! This ‘beat-up old thing’ is an IMSAI 8A-8A,” Falken said as her various physical and holographic screens flickered into life. She flopped down into her chair in front of them before adding, “It’s the last system they designed before the Consortium bought out the company and gained a monopoly on all computer hardware.”
Cad shrugged again. “So? So what?”
Falken interrupted her work to peer up at Cad, regarding him in the same way that someone might look at a peculiar piece of abstract art.
“All of Doyle’s computers have tracking tech built in,” said Falken, clearly surprised that this was information Cad didn’t know. “Whoever your renegade head honcho is, he’s as smart as they come for using this baby,” Falken added, patting the computer again. “With this, you can interface with the BridgeNet without being snooped on. You have no idea the trouble I go to in order to circumvent the Consortium’s spyware.”
Cad shook his head and sigh
ed. It shouldn’t have surprised him that Doyle would be secretly mining private information in the way Falken had described, but it still made him uncomfortable. It also explained how the multi-trillionaire always seemed to know where he’d been and what he was up to.
“I don’t suppose any of these gadgets can stop that rich asshole from snooping on me and my crew?” Cad asked, picking up one of a dozen anonymous-looking pieces of equipment on Falken’s desk.
“I can give you something that’ll circumvent most of their tech, yeah,” said Falken, who was now working at an almost frenetic pace. Then she stopped typing for a second and looked up at Cad, smiling. “For a price…”
Cad’s watch bleeped and he checked the screen before cursing. “Speak of the devil,” he muttered, more to himself than to Falken, then turned back to the genius hacker. “Get me three of them. I’ll pay whatever you want,” Cad said, causing Falken’s smile to widen further. Then he walked away, searching for a place where he could speak to Doyle without being overheard.
Cad paused alongside Draga, who had been observing the exchange from a distance, ever watchful, ever vigilant. “Keep an eye on her,” he said in a hushed voice. “I have to speak to Doyle.”
“I will,” replied Draga, but then her eyes sharpened and jaw tightened as she nodded toward Cad’s still flashing watch. “He’s becoming a problem. This job is spiraling out of control.”
“We can handle it,” Cad hit back, keen to quash any suggestion that they might walk away. “And I can handle Doyle.” Draga nodded respectfully, and Cad took a step away, but then paused and turned back to her. “But, just in case things do go south quickly, we need a contingency plan.”
