Rift Breaker (26 page)

‘Stay back,' he yelled. The four survivors had already gained a distance.

Raegar cleared the searing heat and turned back to the collapsing hole. He could make out the opposite end of the bridge. The invaders broke through the door and sprinted ahead. They burst into flames. The window shrunk. Specks of light dispersed off its rim. As the engine room brightened to an intense white glare, the portal shut, expelling a tuft of purple flame into Cenyulone's atmosphere.

Milton clutched his head and screamed. His body had a pulsing, sharp sting that refused to cease. He twisted and squirmed on the spot. His eyes shot wide and he howled at the sky. His vision shook; the distant tower vibrated. His head twitched unnaturally to the tune of a screeching in his ear. Hot tears and sweat streamed down his face. He wanted to die. His heartbeat turned over like a machine.

‘I will live,' he uttered through gritted teeth. Everything went black.

Twenty-two

Milton wandered some distance from the group. He clutched his head in both hands and screamed. Then his voice suddenly cut and his arms dropped. He collapsed face-down on the grass.

‘Call for medical pick up,' Raegar grunted, dropping his guns. He pulled the pin on a beacon canister and threw it towards the level ground. A fluorescent yellow gas gushed from its valve and carried with the wind.

He went to the boy and rolled him over. No direct hits, but the Human had appeared to be in great pain. Raegar now had doubts about whether Milton was Human at all. He'd never seen one with black eyes. Raegar knelt and placed a finger on his neck. Milton's vitals seemed to be in order; his blood pumped, he drew breath but body temperature was unusually high.

Raegar looked towards his three surviving soldiers, whom he had only met moments ago in the chaos of the invasion. The one with the shoulder wound peeled off his helmet, revealing his
furry red head. He yelled coordinates into a transmitter. A voice came back, confirming dropship dispatch. The blue lady treated the young green one with an injection to dull the pain. Green bit down on a wad of cloth and screamed. His chest plate had melted into his wound. The only thing she could do for him before the transport arrived was to pin him down. Any movement was an aggravation risk.

Raegar looked back to the tower of the overseers. A mere quanut ago he was halfway across the galaxy. Not only that, he had travelled to Cenyulone instantly. He checked his body. His insides seemed to be in place, despite having crossed such a vast distance in less than a spuckon. He remembered what the kid had said. Warpholes. A dense feeling came over him. Milton had told him the enemy was going to use this technology. If that were true, and a warphole could emerge on the outskirts of the city, then Cenyulone was unprepared. An attack could come at any moment.

The sky crackled. The dropship flared its thrusters in the distance. The ship angled towards the marker gas and slowed overhead. The four wings along its body had magnetic turbines built into each. Its left thrusters fired a burst of energy and the transport inched to the side. The vertical fins swivelled and it turned to circle the group. Heated wind rippled the grass. Raegar winced. The transport lowered, rotating to align the rear hatch with the wounded. The landing skid lowered and the ship touched down.

The rear hatch flipped out, with the lower half of the door forming a ramp. Two armoured combatants bearing black and red colours descended with a hovering stretcher each. They broke off to aid Raegar's troops. One of them helped the blue lady lift the wounded soldier to the lowered stretcher. The other approached Milton.

Commander Leroy then appeared. He descended the ramp with hands behind his back and a slight side swing to his boots. He fastened a button on his coat and puffed out his chest, inspecting the sight as he wandered over to Raegar.

‘What do we have here?' he said. ‘The fugitive?'

Leroy's soilder lowered the stretcher next to the Human. He slung his rifle to his back and helped Raegar hoist Milton onto the unit. The screen crackled on and his medical properties swam down the side of it. The computer confirmed Milton's species and showed erratic vital readings. His heartbeat had levelled at a rapid turnover and yet his temperature was normal.

‘Cenyulone is in danger,' Raegar briefed. ‘The command centre on Poria was attacked by an unknown force. This Human seems to know about them. He must be brought to consciousness as soon as possible.'

Leroy's commando adjusted the controls on the stretcher and lifted it to an appropriate height. ‘I want a seal on that one,' ordered Leroy. With the push of a button, transparent shielding extended from the stretcher sides and locked over Milton's body in biological containment.

‘Can't be too careful, can we,' Leroy added.

Both stretchers were taken to the craft's medical bay. Raegar ascended the ramp behind the blue lady. His furry guy with the shoulder wound followed behind, biting down on a cigar and lighting up with the portable blowtorch.

The two soldiers sat opposite each other in the hold. The hatch sealed and the ship lifted. Raegar adjusted to the movement and headed to the cockpit.

The two pilots, from Leroy's Long Shots, gave him a salute. He leaned between them, took a transmitter and adjusted its frequency. He accessed a coded channel and punched in his pass number. Jhaia answered.

‘I'm calling an emergency meeting,' Raegar said. ‘All commanders are to gather at the Ministry of Defence.'

‘You're back on-world? What's going on?' she asked.

‘I need to speak with all available commanders.'

‘What? Now? How do you expect—'

‘Jhaia, listen to me. I do not know how much time we have, but you should trust my judgement.'

The other end went silent. Her worried breath blew into the mouthpiece.

‘I'll send the alert,' she replied. ‘I hope you know what you're doing.'

He hung up the transmitter and looked out the wide, tinted pane. The tower of the overseers was locked in a direct path. The dropship veered between the Nimbus and the gardened rooves
of domestic dwellings below. Raegar glanced up at the dormant hover thruster that stretched out over several city blocks. He paused and entertained a passing thought before heading back to the hold. He found his armoured soldier slumped forward with his helmet placed carelessly on the edge of the adjacent seat.

‘Look alive, soldier,' said the commander. The guy did not move. The smoke of his cigar drifted up around is face. Raegar approached and lifted his head. His eyes had glazed over, unfocused. His dangling cigar dropped to his lap, having been snuffed out. The smoke rose up from multiple blast holes punched in his chest. Turbulence shook the unstrapped body to one side. The man's helmet rolled and bounced onto the floor. The unmistakable charge of a Composite sledge pistol reverberated behind Raegar.

He dropped forward. The shot blasted the wall. He touched the seat with his top hands and kicked his foot, stomping hard into the assailant. The attacker grunted and another stray blast fired at the floor. Raegar spun to find Commander Leroy, steadying his hand.

Raegar lunged. Leroy pulled the trigger again, catching Raegar mid-stride. Raegar stopped. Heat burned into his abdominals. He glanced down. A black stinging hole excreted a thick line of smoke. He convulsed. His breath escaped him. He keeled over. The floor stretched ahead of him. For a moment the dirty grilled steel looked comfortable. He fell onto his hands and struggled for breath. The smell of his burning flesh flooded his
nostrils and his heartbeat slowed. Looking up, he saw Leroy's polished boots adjust their stance on the floor, purposefully, stepping under his nose. Anger welled. The Kharla snorted. Raegar kicked to his feet and his arms whipped out. In a tangle of hands he disarmed Leroy, threw the weapon over his shoulder and knocked him back at the same time.

Leroy stumbled back against the opposite seats. His palm pressed against the face of his other victim. He pushed her lifeless head to the side and he stood upright. Despite being hit with a blast to the guts the old man stood tall. Raegar advanced slowly with clenched fists and a demonic look in his eye. Leroy had always made a note to never go hand-to-hand with a Kharla, especially this one. He spotted his pistol on the other side of the hold. He thought of making a run for it but Raegar's intimidating back-jointed legs were tense and ready for anything. He glanced to his side for the lady's pulse rifle. The diligent bitch had secured the weapons on the rack at the front of the hold; still too far. He glanced to the wall behind and found his next move.

Luckily, Raegar had a slow advance; the cocky bastard thought he'd won. Leroy waited for him to take another step. When their positions optimised, Leroy lifted a thrust pack from the wall and swung, flexing his arm in a downward hook. The heavy piece of equipment slammed against Raegar's head. His muscle-bound, yet aged form toppled. Leroy kicked out his legs.
Raegar landed hard on his back. The old man rolled forward to get to his feet. Leroy grabbed the straps of the pack, swung it back over his shoulder then dropped it hard to the commander's chest. The veteran shrieked. Leroy had never heard the sound before.

‘You should've settled with the gun,' said Leroy, cocking the improvised weapon over his shoulder again. ‘Would've been less painful than this.'

Leroy swung. As the pack arched over his head, a Kharla foot kicked him in the groin. His hands slipped over the strap controls. The pack burst to life with unfolding triangular wings and flaming thrusters. The unit flew over his head and bounced off the floor. The hit sent the heavy piece of equipment into a spin and it bounced uncontrollably around the hold.

Raegar got to his feet. Leroy backed away, slightly bent over. Getting his bearings again he adopted a combat stance to finish him off. He lunged and landed hard hits to the Kharla's face and wounded stomach. In the middle of his combo his uniform was snatched up by his opponent's lower arm. Raegar drew him close, offered hard returning blows. Leroy's face received double hits and snapped to either side. He kicked his knee and managed to push away. Then a lifesaving chance soared in from the side.

The thrust pack slammed into Raegar. The Kharla was lifted off the floor and flew with a bounce into the back wall. Leroy cackled in relief and went straight for the dispatch controls, slamming his fist to the button. The drop trooper alarm rang and he smiled. The back of the ship opened and Raegar tumbled out.

Leroy went to the opening door, grabbed the cargo strap and used it to lean into the crisp wind. His pilots had changed direction and were now headed into orbit. The great and wonderful Fleet Commander Viceon Raegar was but a mere dot, flailing to his gruesome death on the streets of Cenyulone.

Leroy caught his breath and laughed, touching the blood from his mouth and nodding approvingly at the fight still left in the old man. Nonetheless, he was glad good fortune had shone down on him.

‘I guess he wasn't the legend he was cracked up to be,' he said to the wobbling cadavers as he passed by. He closed the hatch with an air of enthusiasm, before limping up to the cockpit with a slight spread to his walk.

‘Did you see that?' he boasted to his pilots, cleaning his face with a handkerchief.

‘Yes sir,' came the obedient reply.

‘For a moment there I thought he still had it,' chuckled Leroy.

With the hatches secure the dropship shot to the sky, breaking atmosphere and flying past the space platforms. Leroy looked over the Composite ships and stations in disgust. At the same time he felt immense joy he would no longer be subjected to the bureaucracy again.

His disdain for the Tranquillian Composite was not a recent occurrence. He'd been passed over for promotion time and time again. Jhaia thought he was reckless and had testified that to the overseers. She'd regret it soon enough. A man like Magnus Leroy
needed more than a steady pay rate. He needed expansion and had taken upon himself to inquire into other avenues. Now he'd found an opportunity worthy of his skill and talent.