Rise the Renegade (Rork Sollix Book 1) (14 page)

A soft scraping sounded behind Rork. He turned, his hands ready to clutch the man’s neck and squeeze.

But it was Zero.

He wagged a finger at Rork, his other hand on his hip. “You selfish, disloyal, lying, deal-breaking fake. You’re no rebel. You’ll abandon anyone to save your own skin, like how you abandoned that poor girl.”

Rork overheated. He pulled back his fist and his arm trembled. He let it fly and Zero fell to his knees, holding his nose.

“Ahh, and you’re a violent brute, too!”

“You don’t have the courage to stand up for yourself. You wouldn’t know how to make a fist—”

Zero punched him in between his legs and Rork doubled over, the thumping agony begging him to sit down.

“The bridge is empty,” a voice said from above.

“Probably a couple of icicles by now,” said another from farther away, “but keep looking!”

Rork tried to stand up straight. Zero fell back, his palms facing forward. Rork drew a horizontal line with his index finger, warning the maddened mahatma to stop.

“Enough.” Rork sat down next to Zero. “Since you, in your infinite wisdom, decided not to take my advice, well, we’re back in this together again. Or, you can take my advice and we can get on with our lives.”

“Your egotistical, self-serving advice, which goes against our deal.”

“Our deal says nothing about advice.” Rork shrugged.

“Against the spirit of the deal. And the spirit is everything.”

“Whatever. Look. What we can’t do is go off half-cocked—”

“Or just fully cocked up,” Zero said.

“—because then we’ll both get caught.”
This guy is hopeless. I could end him right now.
Rork’s eyes fell on Zero’s neck. The windpipe was very pronounced. The man was weak. He might have even done it by accident.

But something tugged in Rork’s chest. He studied Zero’s bony face. There was a light inside of him that gave animation to the undernourished skin. He was a good man. He was just an impractical man.

“You are lost in such trivial matters, Rork, when you might spend more of your precious time in purifying your soul and preparing for the coming transition.”

A nice electrical clamp with those jagged edges, just let it snap right on his mouth, please, Jupiter.
“Okay, let’s leave that there.” Rork moved his palm in a circle, as if cleaning a window. “And focus for a brief moment on preparing our bodies for the transition out of this EDF spaceship. Is that alright?”

Zero’s mouth was a straight line. “I still want to keep our deal. I have a mission.”

“I remember.”

A scraping sound came from above. Rork motioned for Zero to lay down. They scooted under the wreck, Zero first, in a tight space between the curving hull and the dock floor.

Rork held his breath. He was vulnerable.

Black-booted feet hit the floor. They walked the length of the tiny space. “Nothing here,” the soldier said.

Rork exhaled.

The soldier bent down, did a doubletake and fumbled for his weapon. He got control of it and Rork found the sharp, black barrel centimeters from his eyes. “Get out of there! Now!” The soldier stood up and yelled, “I found them!”

“N
O
MORE
killing.”

Rork narrowed his eyes and firmed his grip on the weapon. He strummed the pad of his right index finger against the smooth, cool metal of the trigger. “He would kill us in a heartbeat, if he realized who we were.”

“No killing. Or I scream.” Zero embiggened his eyes for effect.

I’m going to shoot this pollyanna geek.
Rork shook his head and pushed the unconscious EDF soldier into their old hiding spot under the broken prow of
Fist of Dollars
.

Another soldier turned the corner of the scrap heap that was the Barbary bridge and stopped short. He opened his mouth and Rork stood up, the rifle sight’s red dot rolling up and down on the man’s forehead with each of Rork’s breaths.

“Sh.” Zero motioned the soldier down.

Rork grabbed the soldier by the back of his collar and pushed him to his knees. “Name.”

“Cheverer.”

“What?” Rork asked.

“Cheverer.”

Whatever.
“Age?”

“Eighteen.”

Rork got more of the man’s shirt into his fist and turned to Zero. “Can you believe a kid this young shooting at people?”

“The children fight the wars and the children die in the wars, so that the adults may enjoy their fine things.”

Rork glared at him. “Is that some kind of passive-aggressive comment?”

“Yeah, war kills kids.” Zero shrugged.

“Better.” Rork turned to Cheverer. “Which ship is fueled and ready to go?”

“Why should I tell you?”

“Don’t you know who we are?” Rork asked, suppressing a smile.

Cheverer studied Rork’s face, then Zero’s. He frowned and shook his head, his fat lower lip sticking out a tad too much.

Rork looked at Zero. The mystic smiled.

“Captain Rork Sollix, undercover for the GIA. I need your help, soldier.”

Cheverer’s face clouded. “I’m— I’ll just— My sergeant will know what to do.” He nodded, his head bobbing up and down like a doodad on the dashboard of a ship about to depart.

Rork looked down at the know-nothing sap, an expression of hopeless disdain on his face. “Negative. That will blow our cover and endanger our mission. Do you understand that, soldier?” He glared at the thin, young man. “And we have suspicions that your sergeant is on the take. Can’t be trusted.”

Cheverer swiveled his head up. “There’s definitely something fishy about him. Well, I just need to see your badge or something.”

Rork feigned weariness. He looked at Zero out of the corner of his eye. “My badge...” He jammed the heavy butt of the rifle into Cheverer’s nose and the kid crumpled to the floor.

Zero grabbed Rork’s forearm. “Before you hurt the other, you first hurt yourself.”

“I thought you were going to cut out the llamabrax. Come on.” Rork walked forward and peeked around the edge of the crooked containers. It was clear. He motioned for Zero to follow him.

A wide-winged fighter, two tubular laser guns hanging from each wing at the end and in the middle, sat one hundred meters from them. Next to it lay an arched doorway through which Rork spied a dozen armed men lounging and talking.

Rork pulled away from the edge and pushed his back against the rough metal container walls. He struggled to control his breathing. One well-placed shot from any of those men would burn a hole in him, and that would be it.

“Costume change.” He clapped Zero on the shoulder and pushed him towards Cheverer’s limp body. He bent down and pulled the navy blue EDF jumpsuit off of him and tossed it at Zero.

The jumpsuit hit Zero in the gut and bounced to the floor.

Rork furrowed his brows at the inscrutable mystic. “You put that on, put a gun on me and we walk to the ship. Don’t fight me on this. I’m tired, you’re tired. Just work with me... just this once.”

Zero growled, his face taut. He struggled to get the space suit off, then stepped into the blue jumpsuit and zipped it up. “Ow!” He pulled the zipper down and plucked his curly beard out of its teeth.

Rork chuckled and handed him Cheverer’s rifle.

Zero held his palms forward and shook his head.

“Jumping Jupiter. Just be ready to run.” Rork put his hands behind his back and paraded towards the fighter. He snuck a look out of the corner of his eye at the men in the hallway.
 

Only one remained and he squinted at Zero. “Hey! You!”

Rork sprinted towards the fighter. More men moved in the hallway. He threw himself up the mobile stairs into the cockpit.

Zero walked at a glacial pace, his eyes cast down at the ground.

“Run, you moron! Run!” Rork pushed his legs in but his knees jutted into his chest. He hit the greasy red starter button and the death-dealing machine vroomed to life.

Zero jumped in behind him, his feet boxing Rork’s ears.

Rork closed the canopy. “Get your feet in if you want to keep them,” he mumbled at the back seat. He pulled the stick back and the ship rose. He pushed the accelerator handle forward at his right and the machine jetted forward.

Laser blasts hit the tail section and Rork bounced in his seat. The inner blast door dropped and they zoomed right under it, their canopy scraping through.

Rork and Zero zipped into the blackness. Zero cheered but Rork studied the control panel in silence.

“Cooperate now, we must. What is our plan? Maybe we can hide on the dark side of the moon until they pass?” Zero asked.

A red blip popped up on Rork’s radar. “We’ll run for the asteroids. We’re faster than the destroyer and they have to keep their patrol route.”

“Good, no more violence. That’s the way I like it.” Zero slapped his knee and laughed. “This is so much fun!”

A flash of red light zipped past them on the right. Rork rolled left. His control panel beeped an alarm and flickered. Rork moved right, then back to the left again, up, then down. He thrusted the accelerator forward and the control panel speed indicator flashed in a jumbled mass of flickering red lines. His forehead, armpits and back broke out in a fevered sweat.

“Ommmm,” Zero whispered from the backseat.

We’re under attack. So he meditates.
Rork opened his mouth to utter a sharp quip but he stilled his tongue. If a red laser pulse burned a hole through the cockpit and their bodies were sucked out into the vacuum in little chunks, well, at least one of them would be at peace.

The radar blip visualized above them. It was the trainship. Rork grinned and wiped his brow. He turned left and angled the fighter upwards towards the featureless underbelly of the plodding giant.

Ten thousand civilians.
He paled at the idea of putting them in danger but the prospect of being sucked out through a straw hole appealed to him even less. He came straight up at the bottom of the ship, the giant thing perpendicular to him, its front to his right, its rear to his left. He angled forward until he was sure he was past the trainship, then rolled back over and headed straight for the source of the laser shots.

He looked up. The top of the trainship was above him still, as he was upside down in relation to it. He glanced left and caught a vivid image of the bridge, enclosed in transparent walls, a dozen uniformed men looking back at him, their eyes intent and their faces hard.

The pointed leading edge of what could only be the ESS
John McCain
bore down on him. He fired back.

“Ommm.”

Rork jumped in his seat and turned hard down and to the right. A laser pulse flashed past him and hit the engines. The ship shuddered. The control panel flickered and Rork’s world went dark.

“Maybe you can do something useful!” Rork yelled.

“The argument can be made that those of us who sit quietly and do nothing are effectively making the system a more peaceful place.”

Rork gritted his teeth.

The ship rumbled again and a low whine sounded in the cockpit. It was the sucking sound Rork dreaded.

“Deploy oxygen.” Rork grabbed a plastic face mask and lodged it over his mouth and nose. The sticky, suctiony material adhered to his skin. He took a deep breath and a fresh surge of energy and optimism coursed through him.

He punched the console and it blinked to life. The trainship’s dock lay ahead. He rolled the ship over, aimed it at the opening and burned fuel. They floated in, Rork cut the engines and they crashed to the ground.

“Are we there yet?”

Rork popped the canopy, ripped off his oxygen mask and stood up. Zero wasn’t wearing his oxygen mask. Rork slapped him and picked him up. He dragged him down the unfolding stairway to the floor of the dock and laid him down. He looked around.

A guard in a yellow and red uniform ran towards them, a long, black paralyzer baton in his hand. “Don’t move!”

A tremor rocked through the floor and Rork frowned. “They must have scraped hulls. The EDF would never fire on a trainship.”

Zero opened his eyes, let out a deep breath and smiled, his face rosy and calm. “Why not?”

“There are at least ten-thousand settlers on this ship. Anju and Devi might even be here. Earth depends on the resources the settlers produce and send back. They’re not going to jeopardize that.”

“You put us on a ship with ten-thousand souls?” Zero’s face fell and he shook his head. The mystic took on the visage of an older soul and a tired one at that.

“What? The fighter was full of holes.” Rork held out his palms. “It was the only neutral place to land. We’ll grab another ship and be gone before anything goes wrong. I promise!” He looked around at the empty landing bay.
If I can find another ship, that is.

The cold, steel floor plates rumbled and clanked. The sound of a distant explosion echoed from the entry corridor.

The guard stopped a meter from them and pointed his weapon at Rork. His radio squawked, “The bridge is gone! They took out the bridge!”

“T
HIS
IS
a revenge attack by Cartel terrorists against our heroic Earth Defense Forces for their unflagging defense of settlers’ rights. We discovered today — in an ABX exclusive — a Cartel slaving operation operating right under our noses. At this very moment, a Cartel trainship drifts between Earth and Luna. Its cargo? Ten-thousand children, involuntarily bound for Cartel-controlled mines and other economic colonies.”

“Mute that,” Rork said to a black-jumpsuited crewman.

The pixie-cut, baby-faced young woman nodded rapidly, then obliged with the click of a tiny remote control. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and searching.

Rork laid a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry. You’re going to make it. All of us will.”

Her eyes clouded and sparkled with tears. Rork turned to the dozen other assembling crewmen of the FTS
Achilles
. He stood on the sundeck, above and slightly behind the charred bridge. It was gone and all the officers with it, carbonized and open to the brutal vacuum of space. Even its blast windows were damaged and refused to operate.

Rork motioned to Zero. “Find out if Anju and Devi are on this ship.”