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

  Cannon rounds thudded into the metal and Hallam surged forward, using the desk to bulldoze the machine through the glass wall of another office. Hallam could see the gleam of moonlight through the floor-to-ceiling windows at the far side and pushed on, hoping to propel the machine out and over the side of the building. The Enforcer bot dug its claw-like metal feet into the floor and managed to wrestle the desk away from Hallam’s grasp. The huge slab of metal hammered into the side wall, and the bot again struck out at Hallam with its powerful robotic limb. This time, Hallam was prepared, blocking the blow with his armored forearms, then whirling a ferocious backfist across the side of the bot’s cranial unit. The machine wavered, whirring and bleeping chaotically. It then raised its cannon, but Hallam caught the barrel and forced it away, sending a spray of bullets across the ceiling of the office. Roaring like a weightlifter going for a world record, Hallam brought his other fist down across the bot’s shoulder, smashing the limb clean off. With the threat of being shot gone, he then spun on his heels and hammered a double axe-handle strike into the bot’s torso. The power of the strike took even Hallam by surprise, propelling the Enforcer bot out through the office window like a cannonball. He stepped closer to the opening, seeing the machine smashed and broken on the asphalt below.

  “Nice hit, Captain Kirk,” said Dakota, resting on a section of the smashed office wall. Her hair was a tangled mess, covered in dust, debris, and fragments of glass, and she was breathing heavily. Dakota then removed her Five-Seven-Seven pistol and offered it to Hallam. “Here, since our robot friend trashed your rifle.”

  Hallam took the weapon, noticing the ruined remains of his rifle amongst the debris inside the adjacent office. “Thanks, though I’m not sure what use it will be against these bots.”

  “If we don’t get out of here soon, it won’t matter anyway,” Dakota replied, releasing the chunky magazine on her semi-automatic grenade launcher and thumping in another. “I’ve got another eight shots, then it’s down to fighting hand-to-hand.”

  The sound of more glass smashing and heavy metal footsteps heading their way cut short their brief respite from the action. Hallam spotted an emergency exit stairwell in the corridor behind Dakota and moved over to it, rapping his knuckles on her shoulder as he went.

  “Come on, we can reach the engineering lab through here,” said Hallam, pushing open the door and quickly checking inside that the coast was clear. “Whether the Doc is done or not, we’re out of time.”

  Hallam raced up the narrow flights of stairs, grateful for the power assistance of his armor, then cautiously opened the door to the upper level. Dakota stepped out first, grenade launcher held ready, while Hallam covered their rear.

  “Her lab is at the far end of this lobby,” said Hallam, indicating the direction with the barrel of the Five-Seven-Seven. Without warning, two Enforcer bots then rampaged through the double doors at the end of the corridor, knocking them clean off their hinges. Hallam stopped dead, like a rabbit caught in headlights.

  “Hal, get down!” Dakota yelled.

  Hallam ducked and two grenades whistled over the top of his head, blowing the CSF bots to pieces, along with the entire end section of the corridor.

  “Subtle…” said Hallam, letting out a heavy breath. Then he smiled at Dakota. “But I like it.”

  Hallam and Dakota moved into the engineering lab, with more heavy footsteps closing in behind. Dakota covered them while Hallam burst through the laboratory door and saw Dr. Rand still working with the intricate array of machinery. She was wearing only her flight suit. The scientist’s power armor was stacked up against the far wall.

  “Doc, we’re out of time. We have to go, right now,” Hallam called over to her.

  “The mechanism is jammed!” Dr. Rand shouted back, fighting with the controls of the robotic limbs inside the shielded area. Her usual cool demeaner was gone, and instead, she sounded frantic. “The equipment is still stuck inside the safe room.”

  Hallam peered at the panoramic screen, which provided a window inside the shielded lab where the scientist’s robotic helpers had been hard at work. He could see two cases on the floor. One was sealed shut, but the lid to the second was still open.

  “We’ve been blowing holes in the building left, right and center, Doc, so it’s no surprise things aren’t working,” said Hallam, trying to usher the scientist toward the door. “But the building is crawling with Enforcer bots, and we have to go.”

  Dr. Rand shook Hallam off and returned to the consoles. “If we leave now, we’ll never get another chance. We have to get those cases.”

  Hallam growled and looked up at the screen again. Then an idea popped into his head. It ranked pretty high on the “stupid and reckless” scale, and he knew Dakota would hate it, but he also knew that Dr. Rand was right. Without the equipment, their chance of destroying the Centrum was precisely nil. Necessity outweighed the risk in this case, though Hallam knew he was already walking on a razer’s edge when it came to exposing himself to more Randenite.

  “I’ll get the cases, Doc. Just go,” said Hallam, placing the Five-Seven-Seven down on the desk in front of him. “Dak is waiting outside; she’ll get you back to the ship.”

  “Mr. Knight, another dose of Randenite radiation is the last thing you need right now,” said Dr. Rand, the concern visible in her puffy, tired eyes.

  “Well, hopefully, you are actually as good a medical doctor as you are a scientific one,” replied Hallam, again trying to usher Dr. Rand toward the exit. “And forget the armor. There’s no time to put that back on now.”

  “Very well, but you must limit your exposure,” Dr. Rand grudgingly agreed. She then collected an object that was resting beside her armor. It looked like a high-tech rifle, but from the unfinished appearance of the housing, it was clearly a prototype of some kind. “Just a little something to even the odds,” said Dr. Rand, noticing that Hallam was scowling at the device. Then the scientist became more somber again. “Remember what I said, Mr. Knight. Get in and out as quickly as you can. You are resistant to the debilitating effects of radiation poisoning, but not immune.”

  Dr. Rand then finally left the lab, leaving Hallam alone to contemplate the daunting task ahead of him. He puffed out his cheeks and blew out a heavy sigh, stepping up to the door of the sealed laboratory. The red strip lights and illuminated signs warning him of Randenite radiation only served to intensify the flutters in his belly, but it didn’t change what he had to do.

  Taking a couple of steps back from the door, Hallam steeled himself, then charged forward, hammering the heel of his armored boot at the lock. The door shook but did not break. Cursing, Hallam took four paces back, to the background of cannons firing and grenades exploding outside, and charged again. This time, the door caved in, and Hallam practically fell inside the shielded room. Nausea hit him almost immediately, as if the lab was spinning like the drum of a washing machine. He dropped to his knees and vomited, and for a second, he almost passed out completely, but just managed to stay conscious through sheer force of will alone. Making himself crawl over to the open container, Hallam slammed it shut then collapsed on top of it.

  “Come on, get up!” he growled, fighting the sick feeling in his gut and urging himself on. Hallam grabbed hold of the two containers, hauled himself upright, and forced himself back to the smashed-open door. Picking up momentum, he crashed out of the lab then almost tripped over the broken remains of three more Enforcer bots.

  “Hal, over here!” he heard Dakota shout. He saw her waiting for him at the foot of a stairwell. “This leads to the roof; come on!”

  Dakota and Dr. Rand disappeared up the dark flight of stairs, and Hallam hurried after them, beginning to feel the nausea subside and the strength return to his body. He ran up the steep stairs, hauling the two suitcase-sized containers at his side, then burst through the door at the top. He let out another sigh of relief, spotting the fighter right where they’d left it. Hallam and Dr. Rand were already standing at its side, waving
him over. Hallam smiled, realizing they were in the home stretch. Against the odds, yet again, they’d pulled off the impossible. However, before he’d even taken another step toward the fighter, three Enforcer dropships surged over the side of the building. The downdraught from their rotors blew dust into Hallam’s eyes, forcing him to look away. The Enforcer craft then slowed to a hover fifty meters from the mercenary fighter, nose cannons aimed toward it.

  “Attempt to board that fighter, and I will open fire!” a voice blared out over an address system from the middle dropship.

  The middle vessel then descended to the rooftop while the other two held their position, like airborne sentries. Hallam hurried alongside Dakota and Dr. Rand and reached them in time to see the rear ramp of the landed dropship lower. Three figures emerged. Two were Enforcer bots, while the third was a man, wearing a CSF officer’s uniform, adorned with the distinctive silver aiguillette denoting the rank of Commandant.

  Hallam cursed. “I don’t believe it,” he said, watching the officer approach, illuminated by the searchlights of the other two ships. “That’s Dexter Stone.”

  24

  Dexter Stone marched toward Hallam, Dakota, and Dr. Rand, digging his heels into the ground like he was on parade. The commandant and new leader of the Consortium was flanked by the two Enforcer bots that had departed his dropship, both of which were aiming their cannons at Hallam and the others. Hallam glanced across to Dakota and noted that she was still carrying her semi-automatic grenade launcher, barrel aimed skyward. The curious prototype device that Dr. Rand had taken from the lab was tucked under the scientist’s arm, resting across the inside of her elbow, as if she were about to go game shooting.

  “I said, throw down your weapons,” Dexter Stone barked, his orotund voice sounding almost as forceful as it had done through the dropship’s PA system. “And tell me just who the hell you are, and what you…” Stone continued, before cutting himself off mid-sentence and stopping dead in his tracks, his narrow eyes locked on to Dr. Rand. “Hang on, you’re Shelby Rand?” he bellowed. Stone then jabbed a finger in the direction of Hallam and Dakota. “Which must mean that you two are those renegades Damien Doyle was talking about,” he added. Then, unexpectedly, Dexter Stone burst out laughing, clapping his hands together like a seal. “I don’t believe it. Doyle had a group of halfwit mercs chasing you all over the galaxy in an effort to grab you without drawing attention to himself. But as soon as he gets himself killed, you just land right in my lap!”

  Hallam placed the cases on the ground and took a step toward Stone, causing the Enforcer bots to aim their weapons solely at him. “I think you’re confused, commandant,” Hallam said, practically spitting out Stone’s rank like it was an insult. “We were just leaving.”

  “I don’t think so,” Stone spat back, waving his hand in a forward motion. The two Enforcer bots at Stone’s side stepped forward, brandishing their cannons. Hallam felt a swell of panic in his gut as the machines advanced, but then the commandant raised his calloused hand. The machines obeyed again and stood down. “I know you, don’t I?” said Stone, tilting his head a little and scowling back at Hallam. “You’re that jumped-up trainee who thought he could take me on all those years ago, right?” Then he clicked his fingers and smiled broadly. “Hallam Knight, isn’t it? I’ll never forget that name. “‘Not Bright Knight,’ that’s what we used to call you,” Stone continued, chuckling to himself. “And here you are, still thinking that you can stand in my way.”

  Two more Enforcer bots climbed up onto the roof from nearby stairwells and filed in neatly besides the others. With their arrival, Hallam realized that their odds of escaping from Vesta had shrunk to practically zero.

  “As you can see, Mr. Knight, your little insurrection is over,” said Stone, gesturing to the bots and the dropships still hovering above them. “You put up a good fight. A better one than I would have expected from you,” he added, looking at Hallam specifically when he said this. “But it’s time to face facts. The doctor is coming with me to fix this almighty mess she created. While you and your renegade comrade can choose to surrender to me, now, or die.”

  “We’ve fought worse odds and come out on top, Stone,” Hallam barked back. However, his bravado didn’t impress the commandant in the slightest, and the leader of the Consortium just laughed in his face.

  Unexpectedly, Dr. Rand then stepped forward, causing two of the Enforcer bots to aim their cannons at her. The scientist gently raised her arm in front of Hallam’s armored chest then met his eyes.

  “It’s okay, Mr. Knight. Please allow me to speak with the new President of the Consortium. Perhaps we can reach an accord.” Hallam scowled as the scientist then turned to Dakota. “Place the weapon on the ground, please, Miss Wulfrun. Everything is under control.”

  Dakota also scowled and glanced at Hallam, who just shrugged in response. As usual, the scientist’s actions were unfathomable, but Hallam had also learnt to trust Dr. Rand. Whatever she was doing, she had a plan, and Hallam was confident that it didn’t involve surrendering to Dexter Stone. Dakota growled but then reluctantly placed the grenade launcher on the ground. She then took a single step back and lazily raised her hands to show that she was now unarmed.

  “You too, Dr. Rand,” said Stone, pointing toward the object that the scientist was carrying.

  “Oh, this is not a firearm,” said Dr. Rand, displaying a casual indifference to the half-dozen powerful cannons that were pointed at them. “This is the device I need in order to fix the ‘almighty mess I created,’ as you so eloquently put it.”

  Stone scowled at the contraption then raised his cynical eyes back to Dr. Rand. “So you’re telling me that you can actually fix all these gravitational glitches?” he asked, folding his arms across his chest. The sleeves of Stone’s uniform jacket bulged as the man’s huge muscles flexed beneath the fabric. Dr. Rand merely nodded politely in response. “So why the hell have you been disabling our tankers and playing space cowboys for the last decade?” Stone barked, his voice becoming as bitter as the bile he was spouting. “You’ve caused a whole crap-load of trouble for no reason.”

  Dr. Rand shook her head this time, though equally as politely as she had nodded it. “It has taken a decade to devise this technology, Mr. Stone,” the scientist said coolly. “Damien Doyle, however, did not want to believe there was even a problem to begin with. He tried to have me killed to keep his secret, in order to ensure the flow of Randenite remained uninterrupted. If I had not crippled the other refineries and taken further actions through the formation of the Darkspace Renegades, these ‘gravitational glitches,’ as you describe them, would have already destroyed every inhabited planet in the system of bridge worlds.”

  Stone grunted. “Doyle was an obstinate ass,” he growled, still with his arms folded. “Things will be different on my watch. If it had been down to me, I’d have already destroyed your little renegade band using my elite Vanguard enforcers.”

  Hallam snorted. “Such a big man. It sounds to me like you’re compensating for something.”

  Dakota laughed, but Stone jabbed his finger at them both, his face suddenly flushing red. “Shut your mouths, or I’ll fill you two full of holes right here!” Stone barked. The Enforcer bots then advanced, raising their cannons. Stone spun around and angrily waved them off again. “Stand down, you damn idiotic contraptions!” he snarled. Stone pointed to an area of ground off to the side. “Go and stand in formation over there,” the commandant snapped. The bots complied, moving away from Stone and assembling in a vee-formation a few meters away. “These damn things were also the work of Damien Doyle,” Stone continued, hooking a thumb toward the formation of bots. “But they’ll be replaced soon,” he added mysteriously. Stone then glared at Hallam again. “As will the useless enforcers that have allowed you to run rings around them on nearly every damned planet in the system of bridge worlds. I’ll replace them with new Enforcers. Good, loyal enforcers, who know how to follow orders and keep their big mouths shut.”


  Hallam took another pace toward Stone. “Why don’t you try to shut my big mouth?” he snapped, but again, Dr. Rand held up her arm to ward him off.

  “I’ll deal with you soon enough,” Stone hit back, a sadistic smirk creeping across his face. “But first, I need the doctor to fix the bridges so I can get everything back to normal. Thanks to your meddling, our stock prices are through the floor!”

  “Oh, you misunderstand, Mr. Stone,” said Dr. Rand, still an oasis of calm on an otherwise stormy sea. “I can fix the anomalies, but in order to ensure they remained fixed, bridge travel must end.”

  Stone visibly recoiled. “What? What good is that? I need you to fix things, not make them worse!”

  “It is not possible in the time we have left, Mr. Stone,” said Dr. Rand, a measure of impatience slipping into her voice. “The choice is to either repair the damage and survive as a species, or not. It is really that simple.”

  Stone shook his head almost violently. “No, unacceptable!” he barked. “You’re supposed to be a genius. You’ll go back into the lab and figure out how to reverse this so that the bridges remain open. If other planets have to suffer in the meantime, then so be it, but the Randenite must flow.” Stone then turned to the Enforcer bots and waved them over. “Take her,” he snarled. Then he grinned at Hallam again. “And kill the others.”

  Hallam’s mind started racing at a million miles per hour, trying to think of a way to defeat the bots and get away from Stone. However, it seemed like an impossible task, even with the advantage of the power armor he was wearing. Then before either he or Dakota could act, Dr. Rand again calmly intervened.

  “Very well, Mr. Stone,” Dr. Rand said. The new President of the Consortium held up a finger, instantly halting the approach of the marching Enforcer bots. “I’ll do as you ask, but first I must explain how this device can help,” she added, bringing the contraption out from under her arm.