Chapter 12

Adam functioned best when he had a task. The task itself didn’t matter, it could be completing a set in the gym or rushing guns drawn into the tumult of a monster-infested station. The latter was doing well at keeping intruding questions from entering his head, such as why is the company I’m a part of making horrific bio weapons or did my mother know an RC exec tried to assassinate me? Both questions could be rationalized away. A terrorist stole unfinished RC research and Vaughan Spectre probably didn’t recognize him when he ordered the hit. The thoughts kept creeping to the forefront until they got shooed away by the blast of a shotgun.

“How many of these things do we have to kill?” ZT asked, picking off an infernum whose horns had grown as long as her arms.

“The number’s only gonna get higher until we stop Vaelor,” Ebby replied, cutting down a frog-mouthed man with a swing of her crackling beam blade.

“Hurry up, Hox!” Adam called to the lagging infernum.

“I’m not made for all this running,” Hoxley said. “Cooking and reading aren’t the best cardio!”

“Speaking of what you’re made for,” Odybrix said, “the masked asshole called you brother. Any family history you want to divulge?”

“I don’t have a brother. I’m an only child.”

“Yeah, I believe that actually,” Odybrix said, snapping off a shot from her pistol to finish off a monster Adam had kneecapped with a shotgun.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“The word ‘sheltered’ comes to mind. So do ‘recluse’ and ‘shut-in’ and ‘self-involved.’”

“I’m not-”

“‘Big nerd’...”

“So what did he mean when he called you ‘brother’?” Sturdy asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe he’s actually an infernum behind that mask?”

“What about the lightning?” Buddy asked from the cockpit of the mech.

“What lightning?” Hoxley asked, looking more addled by the sudden barrage of questions than by the chaos around him.

“You shot that thing back there with lightning, didn’t you? Do you have some sort of electric discharge weapon you’re hiding?”

“I, um...”

“Maybe like a turbo-charged stormshot carbine?”

“Yes. That. Hey, is that the hangar we’re looking for?”

Two sentries clad in black combat armor stood by the entrance. One held a last-generation laser rifle and had a bandolier of grenades strapped around their chest. The other had a peppershot holstered at the hip and was casually watching their companion fire beams down the corridor at some unseen target. Adam knew a mercenary outfit when he saw one.

“Down this hallway,” he said, pulling Hoxley out of sight.

“What are the chances they saw us?” Zenith asked.

“Laser guy might have hidden our approach, but we’re not getting much closer unnoticed,” Adam said looking up at Buddy in the mech.

“So we engage them in combat!” BOB said, tromping forward, “I will draw their fire!”

“No!” Adam hissed, wrapping an arm around the bulk of BOB and bringing them both to a stumbling stop. “We need to take them quietly or we’re going to draw out that super mech. If we’re going to fight that thing, I want to get the drop on it.”

“If they’re sharing a vid feed it won’t matter if we take them quietly,” Sturdy said, inspecting his gun as if he were already resigned to a firefight.

“Well, I’d rather hope for the best and plan for the worst. BOB might be able to scramble their comms remotely and ZT can snipe-”

“Where’s the infernum?” Sturdy asked.

“Right here,” Hoxley said.

“No, the one who knows how to fight.”

“She is engaging the enemy!” BOB said.

“What?!” Adam said, whipping around the corner and leveling his shotgun.

Ebby stood in front of the two mercs, one hand on her hip, the other gesturing indistinctly at something in the distance. Her fingers twitched in a quick series of movements that were easy to miss in her jovial body language. Adam’s hold on the trigger slackened with his jaw at the mercs’ response. They lowered their guns, gave sharp nods to Ebby, and proceeded to stalk off down the corridor.

“What the hell was that?” Adam asked, approaching with a cautious eye turned toward the departing hostiles.

“I let them know they had something more important to tend to down the way.”

“And they just ... listened?” Zenith asked.

“You just need to know how to ask nicely. Ain’t that right, hon?” Ebby asked, eying Hoxley.

“Uh, yes?”

“How long before they’re back?” Adam asked.

“An hour or so.”

“BOB, can you change the passcode on the hanger bay entry? I don’t want them coming back and flanking us.”

“Consider us unflankable!”

“Alright, we’re going in.”

The hangar was a circular landing pad big enough for a Tartan class ship. A cluttered storage ring enclosed the space, providing the crew with cover on their approach. Adam gestured for Zenith and Buddy to take up positions at the entrance to the hangar proper and for BOB to guard their rear. Best not to have that much metal stomping around. He waved for Ebby to join him, tapped a sequence on his PDA band, and held up his arm.

“Encrypted channel,” he whispered.

Ebby tapped her arm against his, “Thanks for inviting me to the dance. I can hear the other guests behind that door.”

“Ebby, Sturdy, and Hox sweep right. Odybrix, Jim, and I go left. There’s got to be an operations room somewhere in the ring. If we can get there we might be able to trigger some security measures and take a few of them out. Whatever we can do to make it so the mech is our only issue.”

“Maybe I should stay back and guard the exit,” Hoxley said, nervously looking down the corridor.

“You’re the best tech we have after BOB. If your group finds the ops room, you’ll be needed.”

“Why not have the best tech?” BOB asked.

“You and Buddy are a bit loud for a stealth op, BOB. You two and ZT will stay here and secure our exit. The door ahead leads right into the hangar, so you can lay down fire if needed.”

Hoxley eyed Sturdy and Ebby nervously.

“You’re in good hands,” Ebby said, nudging him with her elbow as she stepped past and began slinking behind crates and canisters.

“Couldn’t I go with Jim?”

“He’ll be helping us if we find ops,” Adam said.

“Don’t worry, Hox,” Odybrix whispered cheerfully, “there won’t be much Jim could do to patch you up if the mech gets you.”

“You see the bright side of everything, don’t you?”

Adam activated his optic HUD and set it to rotate video feeds from the crew. If they had been suited up for a mission and not a station stroll, all of the crew would have cams strapped to them. As it stood, he had a feed from Zenith—bless her for always wearing a helmet—and integrated feeds from Jim, BOB, and, curiously, Sturdy, which meant he had an implant too. It wasn’t total coverage, but it would do.

A rectangle of streaming video floated in Adam’s vision as he led Jim and Odybrix through a labyrinth of cargo. On it, Sturdy led the other team through a similarly cluttered maze. His eyes flicked and darted in a familiar pattern: checking corners, glancing around large objects, and never lingering for long on any one thing. Military training had been drilled into his swiveling head just as it had been Adam’s.

A hopeful feeling emerged on the back burner of Adam’s mind. Having someone else with that discipline on the crew would be a welcome turn of events. All the better if he had experience working with Remington. Adam pushed the feeling down; fantasizing about improved squad compositions was an unnecessary distraction. Moreover, the greenhorn hadn’t proven himself yet.

As if challenged by the thought, Sturdy quickly snapped to cover behind a crate. With a quick wave of two fingers, he motioned for Hoxley and Ebby to hide. Seconds later, two mercs strolled onto the screen, an infernum with a shotgun and a human with a plasma pistol. Adam tensed when one turned towards the skulking crew, but Sturdy clocked the movement and hid.

“Think we could load any of this on the ship?” Shotgun said, barely audible.

“I don’t think that weirdo is going to want us loading random shit on his ship. Is anything even worth the effort?”

“Over here,” Pistol said, kicking something, “Box of single malt from Hearthlight.”

Sturdy chanced a quick look. Both mercs had turned to face a small wooden box. He raised a flat hand, staying any action from his squad mates. Glancing down at his pistol, he flicked a switch, causing the barrel to extend several inches. Without hesitation, he stepped out of cover and took two silenced shots, each striking a man in the back of the head. He and Ebby sprinted forward, each catching their share of dead weight before it noisily clattered to the floor.

Adam spared a moment to appreciate the precision of the maneuver before pressing forward with Odyrix and Jim in tow. Their shadowy corridor was inhabited by three mercs, which, to Adam’s alarm, had come with holes pre-installed in their heads. Correction, that one’s neck is snapped. A professional did this.

A crouched figure came into view as Adam’s unit approached. A tiny spark lit up his frame as he attempted to open an access panel. Tactical armour covered most of his body, but the light revealed the green skin of the orc’s face. Even squatting down, Adam picked out all of the muscular hallmarks of a fighter. Completing the picture was the weapon lying at his side, too hard to identify in the dim light, but hefty-looking.

The corridor was split in two by a long, metallic container. Adam motioned for Jim to sweep left and flank the orc, while he and Odybrix hid in the shadows. Making an educated guess that the orc was just as inclined towards stealth as they were, Adam pulled a small bottle of caffeine pills from his belt and unstoppered it. The minute pop broke just enough silence to draw only the orc’s attention.

Despite his bulk, the orc immediately somersaulted away from the door, abandoning the large weapon and pulling out a pistol. A moment later, he was behind cover. Jim’s display slowly rolled past the corner the orc had hidden behind, giving him a good look at the professional. There was a chance Jim could take out the orc with a single shot, but the noise would reveal the crew and start a firefight they couldn’t win. There was also a chance that this man could be an ally. He had just killed Vaelor’s goons after all. Adam took a chance.