Rogue World: A Military Sci-Fi Series (Darkspace Renegade Book 3) Read online

  The internal comm channel inside his helmet clicked on, and Cad heard Draga’s voice cleanly over the speaker. She was calm but urgent.

  “We may have a problem,” Draga said. “I need you up here on the roof.”

  “I’m on my way,” Cad replied, knowing that anything Draga considered “might” be a problem almost certainly was one – and a serious one at that. He climbed over the rubble where the front door of the vault had been before he’d blown a hole there. The bandit whose arm Cad had severed was wandering around outside, looking lost and confused. Cad shook his head and drew his pistol from his hip, shooting the bandit in the head. It wasn’t an act of mercy – the bandit was simply distracting him. Cad then peered into the sky and saw two ships approaching, their inky black exhaust trails visible on the horizon. Cad engaged his thruster system and flew up onto the roof, landing expertly beside Draga. “What is it?” he said to his partner, assuming that she had already run an analysis.

  “It’s Group X,” said Draga stiffly. “And they appear to be heading in this direction.”

  “Group X?” said Cad, frowning while enhancing the view of the ships in his visor. “What the hell is that idiot Xander Blade and his merry band of morons doing here?”

  “It could be a mistake,” Draga answered, though she didn’t sound convinced by her own suggestion. “The local administrators could have issued the contract on these bandits twice.”

  Cad grunted, but then shook his head. “No, I don’t think so,” he replied, continuing to watch the vessels as they approached. Something didn’t add up. Then an alert chimed inside Cad’s helmet, coinciding with a third trail of smoke appearing on the horizon. The lead ship had just launched a missile, and it was heading directly for them.

  2

  Cad Rikkard and Draga Vex barely had time to engage the thrusters in their power armor before being forced to leap from the rooftop of the gold vault. A split-second later, the missile fired by the Group X shuttle slammed into the building and detonated. The blast pushed Cad off course and he smashed into the wall of a store building on the opposite side of the dusty street. Digging his armored fingers into the stone, he fought to control his descent, but the thrusters continued to fire, grinding his armored body against the rough surface like a whetstone sharpening a blade. Reaching for the control panel in his forearm, Cad managed to cut the thrusters, then slid down the wall, fingers still scrabbling against the stone until he thumped into the ground like a dead weight.

  Draga hauled Cad out of the body-shaped imprint his armor had dug into the dusty soil. Without thanking her, Cad turned to look at the remains of the vault. Thanks to the vision enhancement system in his visor, he was able to see through the smoke and dust. He spotted the Group X shuttle hovering a few hundred meters beyond the town’s borders. Xander Blade was no doubt waiting to see if Cad emerged from the wreckage before closing in to confirm the kill, Cad reasoned.

  “They’ll move in soon to make sure that we’re dead,” said Cad, checking that his Black Prince sword had survived the fall. The pommel and cross-guard had been scuffed against the stone wall, adding more battle damage to the once pristine weapon. Cad cursed bitterly then peered back up at the Group-X ship. “Switch on your electronic jamming system,” said Cad while activating the same system in his own armor. “That will make it difficult for their sensors to get a lock on us and force them to get in close. Hopefully, even close enough for a sword, because Xander Blade is going to pay for this.”

  Draga nodded and enabled the system in her suit. “We should head back to the ATV,” she said, peering along the main street toward where they’d parked a small ground transit.

  In order that they didn’t tip off the bandits to their approach, Cad and Draga had landed their fighters in the city spaceport, twenty miles south. They’d rented a battered all-terrain vehicle to reach the mining town, ensuring they kept a low profile. Draga had stowed a combat pod from her ship in the ATV’s cargo bed. Cad had considered this unnecessary excess baggage, since they were only dealing with a band of halfwit local outlaws, but he was glad to be wrong on this occasion. Not that he’d admit it.

  “They’ll swoop in low and try to strafe us with their autocannon first,” Draga continued, unaware of Cad’s quiet musings. “And if that fails, we should expect them to come at us on foot.”

  “I want them to come at us on foot,” said Cad as he and Draga backed away down an alley to stay out of sight. The Group X combat shuttle had already started to creep closer to the town, but its cautious approach told Cad that Xander Blade assumed he was still alive. He’d always considered Xander Blade a nuisance, albeit a harmless one, but now the rival mercenary had crossed the line. Now Xander Blade would meet his namesake.

  “I trust you have something in the combat pod that will take care of that shuttle?” asked Cad before the Group-X craft began strafing what remained of the gold vault building.

  “I do,” replied Draga coolly.

  “Then go,” said Cad. “I’ll keep that moron Xander Blade distracted.”

  Draga moved out without another word while Cad remained hidden, watching the shuttle slowly turn its guns toward the high street. The dust was starting to settle, and while his power armor would confuse the vessel’s sensors, it wouldn’t blind the mercenary group’s eyes.

  The shuttle then spun its nose along the street and abruptly veered off in the direction Draga had run. Cursing, Cad charged out from cover, realizing that Draga had been sighted. He unslung his rifle, and using his visor system to target the shuttle’s cockpit glass, he fired three precision-guided bursts. Some of the bullets rattled off the shuttle’s thick armor, but then he saw narrow cracks appear in the glass. Cad slid to a stop in the middle of the street, waiting to see if he’d gotten Xander Blade’s attention, and sure enough, the shuttle spun around to face him.

  “Come and get me, you cowardly asshole,” snarled Cad, switching to regular aiming and firing another volley of bullets at the shuttle, charging for cover across the opposite side of the street.

  The buzz of the shuttle’s autocannon split the air, and plumes of dusty soil traced the path of the cannon rounds as they cut through the road toward Cad. He felt a punch to his thigh and was spun around three hundred and sixty degrees in mid-air, but he was carrying enough momentum to land behind cover. The Group-X shuttle continued its attack, strafing the area where Cad had snuck out of its line of fire. The fierce torrent of cannon rounds obliterated the stone wall as if it were built from nothing more than dried sand. Cad scrambled deeper into cover as the corner of the building began to collapse. His right leg felt stiff, and glancing down at it, he saw that the armor had taken a hit. The projectile had penetrated through the iridescent black plating, but it hadn’t pierced his skin. Cad pulled it out like a rotten tooth and tossed it into the dust.

  “That’s your one lucky shot, Xander Blade,” he snarled, picturing the mercenary’s pretty-boy face in his mind. His hand closed around the grip of his sword as the image of the man crystallized. “You won’t get another…”

  A renewed buzz from the shuttle’s autocannon encouraged Cad to move again. Employing the full range of power assistance from his armor, he ran hard along the rear of the row of buildings. The shuttle then stopped firing and rapidly gained altitude in order to get a bird’s-eye view of the town. Seconds later, cannon rounds were slamming into the stone buildings and dusty roads of Sandown, some missing Cad by mere inches.

  Cad burst through the back door of a restaurant building in order to escape the maelstrom of twenty-millimeter rounds, using his armored body as a battering ram. He charged through into the kitchen area as the rounds chased him inside, and ducked down out of sight. Cad then caught the eyes of the petrified business owner, huddled behind a metal worktop before he spotted the faces of two young children that were with him. Rounds continued to burst through the walls and windows of the building, and Cad rushed forward, shoving a heavy industrial cooker in front of the bystanders. He took ano
ther hit as he did so, this time to his shoulder, before also ducking down behind the massive steel appliance.

  “Stay here!” Cad yelled, his voice likely sounding alien and terrifying through the vocal systems of his mask. The restaurant owner nodded anxiously, hunkering down into the space and shielding the heads of his children as cannon rounds peppered the walls behind him. Cad pulled the cannon round out of his shoulder armor and glowered out toward where the shuttle was still hovering, punishing the building with all the finesse of a blunderbuss. Rage burned inside his veins. He had no qualms about killing and had taken more lives than he cared to count. But whereas Cad Rikkard was a scalpel, Xander Blade was a sledgehammer. Collateral damage was the sign of a poor craftsman, though this he already knew about Xander Blade. A lack of flair he could tolerate, but killing bystanders in order to hit your target was more than mere sloppiness; it was nothing more than an act of mindless destruction. Cad didn’t care about the people cowering beneath his shimmering black armor, but he did care about the honor of his profession. And it was a profession that Xander Blade was in the act of disgracing.

  “Cad, I’m ready,” said Draga through the comm system in Cad’s helmet. “I can see your location. Draw Group-X out into the main street.”

  Cad acknowledged Draga’s message and burst through the kitchen door into the main restaurant, diving through the glass window and into the high street. He rolled through the landing and flipped back to his feet with the precision of a gymnast, then spun around and fired at the shuttle in one seamless maneuver. The bullets from his rifle merely added more chips to the hardened cockpit glass, but once again, it had gotten their attention. Glancing to his left, Cad saw a row of heavy-duty utility vehicles, parked up by the side of an office belonging to one of the many Minervan mining companies. He sprinted toward them and took cover behind the last of the three vehicles, as the Group-X shuttle swept over the restaurant building and hovered in the middle of the main road.

  “All yours, Draga,” said Cad as the first utility vehicle in the line was peppered with rounds from the shuttle’s autocannon.

  There was no response over the comm channel, but as was often the case, Draga answered with actions, instead of words. A missile streaked down the street and detonated on impact with the shuttle’s engines. The explosion blew out the windows of nearby buildings and sent the shuttle spinning out of control, black smoke pouring from its aft quarter. The shuttle crashed into the road, spewing up a thick plume of dust and soil before grinding to a halt less than twenty meters from where Cad lay in wait.

  Through the crackling fires, Cad saw Draga Vex emerge from a side-street further down the road, tossing a single-use missile launcher into the dirt. Cad smiled and stepped out from behind the utility vehicle, and together they marched on the stricken shuttle as flames began to engulf it. Gunfire erupted from inside the shuttle’s cabin, shooting out the cockpit class, and a second later, the emergency escape hatch popped open. Dazed members of Group-X pulled themselves from the wreckage, but they were all nameless nobodies to Cad. There was only one man he was looking for.

  “Xander Blade is mine,” said Cad into the comm channel. “You can kill all the rest.”

  3

  Two Group-X mercenaries staggered away from the burning combat shuttle, coughing and rubbing smoke from their streaming eyes. Cad marched toward them, his pace methodical and unhurried. He intended to give Group-X a lesson in the proper way to kill.

  With the smoke no longer blinding them, the two mercenaries finally spotted Cad approaching. They raised their weapons and fired, but both were too disorientated from the crash to aim with any accuracy, and the bullets flew wide. Cad grabbed the now scuffed and tarnished grip of his Black Prince sword and drew it slowly from its scabbard. Sunlight glinted off the blade, which was still stained with the blood of the bandits Cad had killed earlier. Those thugs had been dispatched far too easily, Cad recollected. In many ways, he was glad of the opportunity to wet the blade once more, in what he hoped would be a far more satisfying encounter.

  Bullets pinged off Cad’s armor as the mercenaries regained some level of composure and accuracy with their weapons. However, while the Group-X sidearms were more powerful than those used by the local outlaws, they still lacked the punch to breach Cad’s cocoon. Cad continued his measured advance, shrugging off the rounds like hailstones, and soon the pistols clicked empty.

  The first mercenary charged at Cad, managing to evade his sword thrust and land a kick to his side, but it was like kicking the trunk of a giant redwood. Cad adjusted his footing and drew the blade back along the man’s ribs, carving a deep furrow into his flesh. The mercenary grabbed his side, staring down in horror at the blood gushing from his body. It was the last thing the man saw before Cad thrust his blade through his neck, killing him instantly.

  In the meantime, the second Group-X mercenary had drawn a machete. Cad was almost impressed that the man had not wet himself at the sight of his butchered comrade, but not enough to spare the Group-X mercenary from a similarly brutal fate. The mercenary came at Cad, swinging the machete as if attempting to hack his way through dense jungle undergrowth. Cad stepped back, parrying and dodging the strikes with ease as the blood of his first opponent spilled into the dusty soil, turning it a muddy red. Blocking a hard-downward strike with his armored forearm, Cad thrust the Black Prince through the mercenary’s gut, pushing the blade all the way through to the hilt. He savored the look of pain and surprise on the man’s face for a second or two. Then he lifted the Group-X mercenary into the air and hurled his punctured body onto the bonnet of a utility vehicle to his rear.

  More rounds danced off Cad’s armor, but the gunshots were now mixed with the concussive boom of Draga’s semi-automatic shotgun. Through the acrid smoke billowing from the shuttle, Cad could see Draga unloading on at least three more Group-X mercenaries at point-blank range. Another bullet deflected off Cad’s armor, and finally, he spotted his attacker, hiding behind the cockpit, which was now partly buried into the road. Cad crouched then leapt into the air, using the power assistance from his suit to cover the remaining distance to the shuttle in a single, super-human bound. Cad raised the sword high as he descended toward the mercenary, noting the look of awe and terror on her face, then brought the blade down with all his might. The woman was cleaved in half, from collar to hip. It had been as effortless as slicing cheese, Cad mused, allowing himself a moment of vanity to admire the greatness of his own bloody work.

  Cad released his hold on the Black Prince sword, which was now sunk into the road up to the middle of the blade, and peered inside the darkened cockpit. His vision enhancement system could still pick up a lone person inside, cringing behind the pilot’s seat like a coward.

  “Get out here, Xander,” Cad shouted into the darkness of the cockpit. Other than the crackle of the fires and the crunch of Draga’s boots as she approached from around the side of the wreckage, the town was now utterly silent. “At least face your death with some dignity,” Cad added, daring the mercenary leader to step out and face him. Through his visor, Cad saw Xander Blade reach around the side of the seat, weapon in hand. He shook his head, though he wasn’t surprised by the man’s continued cowardice, and stepped aside. Shots rang out from inside the dark cockpit, but Cad had already moved and the bullets simply sailed harmlessly out into the sky.

  “Shall I fetch him for you?” said Draga, stowing her shotgun on her back.

  Cad sighed. He’d have preferred Xander Blade to accept his challenge and step out willingly, but as more gunshots either flew wide or embedded into the fractured hull of the shuttle, he realized that wasn’t going to happen.

  “Try not to injure him too much,” said Cad, extending his hand toward the cockpit.

  Draga waited for Xander’s weapon to click empty, then rushed inside the gloomy cockpit space. Muffled cries and the shuffles and scraping sounds of a struggle filtered out of the darkness. Then the flailing body of Xander Blade was unceremoniously launche
d out into the dirt at Cad’s feet. The leader of Group-X scrambled away from Cad and climbed to his knees, stretching a pleading hand out toward him.

  “Look, Cad, it was just a contract,” Xander said in the same way that people sometimes exclaim, “It was only a joke!” when a prank goes badly wrong. Cad was at least impressed that the mercenary wasn’t yet blabbing or begging for his life, though he imagined it wouldn’t be long until this happened. “Come on, Cad, if there was a bounty on me, you’d collect it just the same, right? It’s business!”

  Cad laughed under his breath then retracted his visor so that he could see his enemy through unfiltered eyes. Even after all this time, Xander Blade thought that Cad and he were the same. It was like a caterpillar comparing itself to a butterfly.

  “Who put the contract out on me?” said Cad, while pulling the Black Prince sword out of the ground.

  “Come on, Cad!” Xander cried, brushing sweat-soaked strands of his long, blonde hair out of his eyes. “You know I can’t tell you that. It’s the rules!”

  Cad sighed again. “I could just have Draga pull out all your teeth, one by one, until you tell me.”

  Xander looked genuinely affronted by this threat. “But we’re friends, right? This was just business.”

  “Draga…” said Cad, glancing across to the female mercenary. Draga then advanced toward Xander with the calm and unemotional detachment of a warbot.

  “Okay, okay, jeez man!” yelled Xander, scrambling away from Draga as if she were a giant scorpion, though he remained on his knees. “It was Doyle, okay?”

  “Damien Doyle?” repeated Cad, feeling his hand tighten around the grip of his sword. “Damien Doyle hired you to take me out?”

  “Yeah, I know, right?” said Xander, shaking his head in a clumsy and obvious attempt to create empathy between them. “I always thought you two were tight. But the money, man. Five mil, straight up. I couldn’t say no to that, right?”