Starfighter Page 7

  “Is everything okay, sir?”

  “Just be ready to leave, Kelvin. Officer Hilden will be there any minute. Make sure you get the package in the lavatron cistern before you leave.”

  “Cistern, sir?”

  He heard a click.

  “Sir?”

  No answer.

  Kelvin shrugged his shoulders and made his way to the lavatron. He removed the clips holding the flush system cover in place. A small plastic case bobbed in the water.

  He removed the container and dried it with a towel before bringing it to the couch.

  Kelvin held his hand against the reader and the lock snapped open.

  A piece of card rested on top of ruffle blue paper.

  He muttered the message on the card as he read. “Shave your head, and stare at the ID badge for ten seconds until it takes your picture.”

  He dug through the packing paper and found a set of electric shears and an ID badge sporting the name Ernest Perry and a blank picture slot.

  Kelvin held the shears in one hand shaking his head.

  He retrieved a mirror from the lavatron and activated the cutters.

  His stomach sank and brown locks fells to the floor.

  When done, he checked the stranger in the mirror. “Hello Mister Perry. Welcome to hell.”

  He fished the ID card from the box and followed the instructions. Within seconds of taking his picture, it appeared in the blank slot. Kelvin slid it into his pocket and cleaned the mess.

  He fetched his duffel bag from the bedroom and threw it on the living room couch.

  The door to his apartment whooshed open. He lurched back.

  I didn’t give access to anyone. Dyson must have given Officer Hilden the passcode.

  He was beginning to think that Hilden wasn’t the usual Delta Fleet officer.

  Footsteps sounded in the hallway.

  Kelvin checked the security feed via his chronograph.

  Two large men marched toward the sitting room door. One held a ballistic and the other a metal pipe.

  He struggled to keep his cool as his shaking fingers flicked through the apartment’s security settings. He tapped the display on his wrist, confirming the lock on the sitting room door just as it opened.

  The door snapped shut again, but a thug got his pipe through, stopping the panel from closing all the way.

  The thugs grappled with the door as its gears whined.

  Kelvin cursed Dyson for taking away his gun as he looked to the window.

  There was no balcony and it was a long way down.

  He thought about the knives in the kitchen, but that meant running past the door and the thugs appeared to be winning.

  Hell with it.

  As he sprinted by, something caught his jacket and pulled him to the ground.

  The thinner thug had made it through.

  He brought the pipe down on Kelvin.

  He rolled out of the way as the metal shaft bit into the wooden floor.

  Kelvin sprung to his feet and ducked under another swipe that took a chunk of plaster out of the wall.

  “Out of the way, Roj.”

  The thug with the pipe threw himself to the ground, offering his partner a clear shot.

  Kelvin expected his life to flash before his eyes, but all he could think about was how the waiting game didn’t seem so bad after all.

  9

  A Better Offer

  Fox held his breath as the throne room doors slammed open and closed again.

  “Where’s Doctor Grong?” Vismark demanded.

  “Hasn’t returned from his lab yet, m’lord,” a Drahk guard answered.

  “Send for him,” Vismark’s hollow voice boomed. “At once.”

  “Yes, m’lord,” the guard said. A moment later, the doors closed again.

  Fox smiled. His plan counted on Lord Vismark returning first. And now the throne room was one guard down. It didn’t improve his chances much, but he would take anything he could get.

  The black-armored lord walked to his throne. “How is our Fox holding up? Staying out of trouble I hope?”

  “Yes,” Tick hissed; his rifle still trained on Fox.

  The grouchy guard wasn’t one for words. Fox had tried to converse with him when his throat felt a little better, but outside of yes, no, and shut up, the Drahk didn’t say much.

  Lord Vismark regarded Fox as he sank into his throne. “I don’t suppose you’ve had a change of heart regarding my project.”

  “I’ll never agree to work with a slaver lord.” Fox was glad to see the Drahkrod still attached to the lord’s belt.

  “Your voice sounds a little stronger. At least we’re making some progress.” He sighed as though disappointed. “Of course you wouldn’t work with me. Which is why we need the doctor…if he would hurry up.” Vismark chuckled. “But I’ve brought a little something…on the off chance that it might persuade you otherwise.”

  “What could you possibly have that I—”

  “Bring her in,” his voice thundered, making Fox jump in his seat.

  Tick’s eye twitched as though he tried to figure out whether the movement was considerable enough to warrant the use of his plasma rifle.

  Vismark wasn’t kidding about this one being trigger happy. I’ll need to watch him.

  The doors made the usual sounds and boots scraped the floor as several more people entered the throne room.

  Though bloodied and swollen, his nose picked up a familiar scent. It can’t be.

  Fox didn’t turn his head too far in case Tick took it as a threat.

  Two Drahk draped in brown robes walked into view, a smaller figure between them covered from head to toe.

  “Remove the covers,” Vismark ordered.

  One of the robed Drahk obeyed, pulling the sheets from the stout figure, revealing a human.

  “Sasha…” his tongue barely managed the word. He couldn’t see Vismark’s face, but something told him the bastard was smiling under that helmet.

  “You’re probably wondering how we knew.”

  “The thought may have crossed…my mind,” Fox said.

  Vismark laughed. “I like your sense of humor. That’s something the Drahk lack.” He gestured to the frightened girl. “What if I told you that I’m the one who hired you for the case?”

  Fox squinted. That would have been impossible. ASTRA had policies in place. “Impossible.”

  “If that were so, would I know the unique case identifier?” Vismark scratched his helmet. “Let’s see if I can remember. Was it one-nine-one-four-six-zero-seven?”

  Fox’s eyes widened. “How?”

  “Poor Sasha’s parents approached ASTRA, but they couldn’t afford the relocation fees. You see, we slave lords aren’t the only people who take advantage of the slave business.”

  Fox almost choked. “That’s different. If we didn’t make money, we wouldn’t be…able to operate. And if there were no slaves to begin with, there would be no need for ASTRA.”

  “Supply and demand.” Vismark shrugged. “Sounds like any other business model to me. Anyway, Sasha’s parents were open to help from a certain…wealthy benefactor. I had them open a case with ASTRA and chose their best slave hunter. Of course, I knew they would give infamous Fox first refusal, and how could he turn down a hundred thousand credits when that was more than he needed to fix his voice.”

  It took everything Fox had not to balk. “You’re a sick bastard, Vismark.”

  “Me?” He said in mock surprise. “All I wanted was to unite poor little Sasha here with her family, but you don’t want to go through with it. I mean, look at the little thing. So frightened. So alone. And Mister Fox refuses to take her home.”

  The kid stared at Fox, still as a statue. He couldn’t make out if she was drugged or just frozen in fear, though he could swear her eyes glowed with determination.

  The girl entering the equation changed things.

  I could try to take her with me, but she’ll probably get in the way, and I�
�m already pretty much screwed without my weapons and armor.

  His hand slowly reached for his aching throat. He could speak again. He hated the idea of being some butchered Drahk experiment, but the voice was serviceable. Vismark had a point…

  No. You can’t think like that.

  “I already fixed your voice,” the slave lord said as though reading his mind. “Is she really worth all the trouble?”

  “I’ve never backed out of a contract.” He scrunched his face as he swallowed hard. “I’m not about to start now.”

  “Then…if you take care of Lord Darris for me, I might just let you both leave after.”

  “As if I could trust a slaver.”

  Vismark waved at the robed Drahk. “Very well…Take her away.”

  As one of the Drahk reached out to grab her, the girl screamed so loud Fox thought his ear drums might pop. She slipped from the Drahk’s grasp and kicked him in the shin before running off toward the large doors.

  Seeing his opportunity, Fox launched out of his chair, and time seemed to contort so that everything happened at once.

  Tick pulled his trigger.

  A cramp tore through Fox’s leg and he stumbled to the ground.

  A plasma bolt seared the fur on his shoulder as it sailed by, smashing a window.

  Fox bounced off the ground and launched for the throne.

  One of the robed Drahk dove out of the way as the other dropped in a heap of smoking cloth and flesh.

  Lord Vismark threw his hands in the air, screaming for Tick to stop firing in their direction.

  The entire throne room erupted into a frenzy.

  Fox wrestled with Vismark, reaching for the blaster holstered at his side. The man overpowered Fox and flung him to the ground.

  Fox turned to see the slave lord pull his weapon free.

  A hiss issued from his other hip and he turned to see what had happened.

  Almost instantly, Tick tackled the lord to the ground, quickly followed by six other Drahk, their minds overcome with the Drahkrod.

  Fox smiled. His plan couldn’t have gone any better.

  He looked around for Sasha but couldn’t see her anywhere. He had to leave her after all.

  Three blasts rang out and two Drahk fell off the slave lord as he struggled free of the fray.

  The throne doors swung open as Doctor Grong burst in wearing a mask, followed by three armed guards also wearing headgear.

  Shit!

  Fox snatched a Drahk rifle from the floor and slung the strap over his shoulder. He sprinted for the smashed window, ducking under a flurry of orange bolts.

  Without a second thought, he flung himself through the opening.

  10

  Officer Hilden

  Roj hit the floor, blood pooling around his head.

  Hilden put five bolts into the thug on the couch, staining the cream fabric red.

  “Get up. We leave now,” Hilden said calmly without missing a beat.

  Kelvin sat up, blinking wildly. He wanted to pat himself down, but couldn’t bring himself to move.

  Hilden dominated the doorway, his Fleet fatigues in stark contrast to the thugs’ attire. The blaster in his right hand smoked as he slid it into his holster.

  “Hilden…” Kelvin looked at the dead men and let out a puff of air. “How…where…I…”

  The officer walked into the room and pulled Kelvin’s bag from under the body, shoving it into Kelvin’s arms. He placed a firm hand on Kelvin’s shoulder. “No time to explain, kid. We need to move before more show up. I need you to stay right behind me. Do you think you could do that?”

  Kelvin nodded. “Sure.”

  Hilden picked up the dead thug’s gun and checked it before deciding to hold onto it. “Then let’s go.”

  Kelvin swallowed as he stepped over the body and followed Hilden into the apartment corridor, his heart thumping wildly.

  The officer’s head snapped from side-to-side as he kept an eye out for danger, gun held out before him.

  “We take the stairs.”

  Kelvin obeyed, following Hilden down several flights, struggling to keep pace.

  The officer moved like a well-oiled machine.

  They reached the bottom and Hilden opened the stairwell’s back door, the sounds of hovercars and the city’s nightlife rushing at him like an ocean wave crashing against rocks.

  Hilden sprinted to a hovercar parked at the sidewalk. He opened the rear passenger side door. “Get in.”

  Kelvin obeyed instantly and the officer slammed the door closed behind him.

  He climbed into the driver’s seat and turned to face Kelvin over the partition. He reached over, the thug’s gun in his hand.

  “You ever used one of these?”

  Kelvin looked at him bewildered. “What kind of—.”

  “When someone asks if you’ve used a gun, they want to know if you’ve ever shot someone.”

  Kelvin thought about the dead thugs. Those were the first people he’d seen shot with an actual blaster. “No.”

  “Take it anyway. Remember what you learned on the range and you’ll be okay.”

  The idea of shooting someone horrified him, but he was too scared to refuse Hilden anything. “Thanks,” he muttered, accepting the gun.

  He turned to the controls and started the engine.

  “If you want to live, I need you to do everything I say. Understand?”

  Kelvin nodded, his stomach almost in his throat. “I don’t understand any of this, but I’ll do everything you say.”

  Hilden pulled the hovercar into the road. “I’d feel the same if I was in your boots right now, but you have to trust me. Now, get your restraints on.”

  “Yes, sir.” Kelvin belted himself in. “Where are we going?”

  Hilden looked over his shoulder. “You'll see.”

  He pulled the controls and the hovercar lifted into the air, joining a lane of traffic following the floating guidance system lights.

  Powerful overhead lamps cast repeating shadows through the hovercar interior.

  Hilden merged onto the freeway and slowed down as he was cut off by another vehicle.

  “You slow piece of crap. Get out of the way.” He looked over his shoulder, making sure the next lane was empty and zipped passed the vehicle. “Admiral Dyson doesn't want anyone knowing where you're going. They’re watching his every move. His every communication. You're heading someplace only four people know about, myself included.”

  “No one will tell me who they are,” Kelvin complained.

  “Because no one knows who they are, kid. That’s what makes them so dangerous.”

  Kelvin pinched the ridge of his nose with his free hand and stared into his lap. He wiped clammy perspiration from his bald head, and looked at the wetness on his hands.

  Hilden zoomed around another car and took a hard left, his eyes darting from the hoverlane to his rear-view mirror and back again.

  “If no one knows who they are then how does the admiral know they’re watching?” Kelvin asked.

  Officer Hilden cocked his head, keeping his eyes on the hoverlane ahead. “They always seem to be one step ahead of us. The only way that could happen is if they’re watching.”

  “I see,” Kelvin said, feeling stupid.

  Hilden shrugged. “We aren’t sure, but we think they might even have eyes in President Moon’s office, though for all we know, it could go deeper than that.”

  “Deeper? What could possibly be deeper than the president’s office?”

  Hilden took a right, and the car shuddered, the hovercar scraping against a traffic barrier. “What the hell are they teaching you kids at the academy these days? The president’s nothing more than a figure head. The real decision makers sit on the military, trade, and finance councils.”

  His mother had always said something along those lines. He suddenly fought down a wave of anxiety. “If they find out I’m helping the admiral, they could go after my family.”

  He hated himself for n
ot considering it before. Had he known; he wouldn’t have accepted the admiral’s damn mission.

  Hilden glanced at him through the mirror and then back at the road.

  “Hilden, is my family in danger?”

  The officer pursed his lips and hesitated. “I don’t know.”

  Damn, I should have answered when my mother called. What if she was in trouble?

  “If it makes you feel any better, I think they knew what apartment you were in but not your identification. We’ve done everything we can to keep that secret, but even then…”

  Kelvin held his head in his hands. “I can’t believe this.”

  “Hold it together, kid. You’ll need to have your wits about you when we arrive.” Hilden drew a deep breath. “Listen. I’ll level with you. The way things stand, no one’s safe. They best way to protect your family is getting through this mission so we can find out who they are and act accordingly. Right now, we’re fighting in the dark and it doesn’t look good. If the Drahk attack, we all die. Simple. If you keep your head on straight, we stand a real shot at stopping something like that from happening. You get it?”

  Kelvin slowed his breathing and looked at Hilden’s eyes in the rearview mirror.

  “I get it,” he lied.

  Hilden slowed the car and guided it toward the ground. He pulled over, landing on a street outside a tall wire fence. Beyond that, endless rows of broad structures loomed in the shadows.

  Hilden looked over his shoulder. “We're here.”

  Kelvin tilted his head as Hilden pulled the wire gate shut behind them. “We’re on the east side, aren’t we?”

  Hilden shushed him. “We're safe here so long as you don’t broadcast our location to half the city.”

  “Sorry,” Kelvin said, lowering his voice.

  He put his hand out. “Only senior personnel are allowed to carry inside.”

  Kelvin pulled the gun from his pants and gladly passed it to the Delta fleet officer.

  “This way.” Officer Hilden led him past several warehouses.

  They stopped between two structures as non-descript as the others in the area.