Chapter 2 Novel
Part two:
Chapter 2: “…Where the Rich Folks Play”
Jon, Tallen and Ayane were sitting in the common room, drinking tea while examining the data card that Jon had discovered in Mitchell’s suitcase. “It’s just a standard 128 megablock data card,” said Ayane, “The only thing on here that would be special is the data on it. Where did you find this?”
“Hidden in his briefcase. Looks like it was concealed under a false bottom.”
“Didn’t the lawman say that Mitchell was part of Black Crescent?” asked Tallen.
“Yes, he did,” was Jon’s reply.
For those reading this who are unfamiliar with this name, Black Crescent is the name of the most notorious and powerful criminal organization in the Solar System. The seven men in charge of the syndicate are among the most powerful and influential in the history of humanity, and whose names are known to few outside the Board of Directors themselves. They have influence in almost every form of crime: numbers, smuggling, money laundering, fraud, prostitution, black market trading, burglary, identity theft, computer hacking and murder, to name but a few. Few members of this System-spanning corporation had any qualms about doing whatever it took to achieve their goals.
Of course, this organization also has quite a lot of interest in legal enterprises as well; the cinema, fine and performing arts, as well as the music industry have all profited from discreet association with the corporate empire, but they were not the only ones to do so. Often times, both will happen at once. The most common instance of this happening is a transport vessel, carrying legitimate cargo, has some more questionable cargo hidden away somewhere aboard ship.
Anyways, Black Crescent doesn’t operate in secrecy like the stereotypical mafia does: If you are dealing with Black Crescent, you will know it because they will tell you that they are from they syndicate, and they will tell you their terms, and you will abide by them, unless you are terminally naïve, hopelessly insane, confident in your abilities, or just plain stupid. Many of their agents are selected due to their sadistic tendencies, as well as a general lack of morals, although many will claim to have a code of honor that they follow.
The most common agent of the syndicate that most people encounter is the Enforcer, who is pretty much a cross between a hitman and a bodyguard. Enforcers aren’t always big, bulky men with large guns, however. Some are skilled computer hackers, or stealthy assassins or thieves. The next step up is the Negotiator, although the precise meaning of the term varies between the individual agents. The distinction between ranks gets fuzzier the higher one goes up until the Commander rank, the one just below Director, is reached. There are only seven Directors, and each of them has at least one Commander as a lieutenant. The Commanders usually handle all the big, day-to-day issues, while the Directors convene regularly to discuss policy and larger matters.
The various agents of Black Crescent often resort to methods such as blackmail, kidnapping, extortion or even rape to get what they want. What makes this even more tragic is when this is done for some petty reason, such as an Enforcer desiring a little control of his own over an innocent family, or an agent desiring goods from a small shop without wanting to pay. Many people have issued bounties for various agents of Black Crescent for such actions, only to find that the bounty hunters who bring these agents in are just as ruthless as their quarries were.
The reason why the police as a whole cannot stop this organization is largely because Black Crescent pretty much owns the police: Most of the heads of police are under the thumb of the syndicate, and Black Crescent has many of its agents scattered throughout the police force. In theory, Black Crescent could destroy the police entirely, but the reason why they don’t is because they would have to perform the functions of the police in addition to their own. Since even Black Crescent doesn't have the resources to do both, the Board allows the police to remain, arresting those agents who don’t cover their tracks well enough. Losing a few dozen agents a year is a small price to pay for the 10+-figure profit that the organization makes from its activities.
“If he’s part of Black Crescent,” Tallen continued, “then the card must have something we can blackmail him with.”
Jon swiped the card from Ayane’s hand. “Matte! It could be a trap!” Ayane warned, but Jon paid no heed to her as he looked at the card for a second, and then inserted it into the slot on the computer on the table. Unknown to him and the other occupants in the room, at the same time that Jon inserted the card, the lawman broke free of his bonds, and Mitchell’s eyes snapped open, and a smile appeared on his face.
The computer screen went black, and in green text appeared the words:
WARNING: VIRUS DETECTED
And, in Japanese below:
Keihou: Konpyuutaa vairasu wa mitsukemata.
With a beeping sound, all the lights went out, and the room was soon bathed in red as the emergency lights came on. “Dammit…” Jon complained as he slumped back against the couch, “When it rains, it pours.” Unknown to him, the lawman used this opportunity to break out of the passenger’s cabin in which he had been imprisoned, and make his way to his own quarters, where he rummaged through his luggage until he discovered a semi-automatic handgun at the bottom of his bag. “Here’s the little bastard,” he said to himself as he cocked it back and left the room, gun in hand.
He made his way down the corridor until he heard the sound of a struggle coming from a room on his right. He found the door that led into the room. The sign on it said, in both English and Japanese script:
LEVEL 3 INFIRMARY
Sankai byousha
He opened it to see Mitchell threatening Misty with a holdout pistol he must have had concealed somewhere on his person. “Please don’t hurt me, sir!” Misty pleaded. Mitchell replied, “I ain’t gonna hurt’cha if you do exactly as I say…”
“Hey, Mitchell…”
Jon, Tallen and Ayane bolted upright at the sound of gunshots coming from the corridor. “The Infirmary!” Jon exclaimed as he drew his Panther 9mm and sprinted for the door. Tallen followed suit.
The two sprinted down the corridor towards the open infirmary door. Please don’t let it be too late, Jon thought as he ran, sweating bullets, Dammit, please… Jon took a right and burst into the infirmary, only to see several tables knocked over, glass bottles and the like lying shattered and broken on the floor, and the lawman holding Misty hostage, with a gun pressed up against her head. The lawman, in his confusion, had raised a second gun at Jon, but lowered it when he recognized him. “Lawman, what the hell…!?” Jon asked, surprised.
“Captain,” the lawman began, “I don’t want any trouble…”
“Bullshit, keisatsu,” Jon said as he brought his pistol to bear, “If you wanted no trouble, you wouldn’t have trained a piece on me and you definitely wouldn’t have a gun pointed anywhere near Misty. Give me one goddamn good reason why I shouldn’t blow you away right now!”
The lawman shoved one of his pistols into the fleshy bit of Misty’s jaw, while Misty whimpered in terror. “She’ll die, one way or another, if you pull that trigger, Captain Aeros,” the lawman said as he raised his second pistol to point at Jon, “…And so will you.”
This tense arrangement lasted for almost a full minute; each second seemed like an hour, and neither side was about to give in to the other’s demands, until a sudden motion caused both men to turn, and Mitchell, wounded, ragged, but very much alive, tackled the lawman from the front, bringing him to the ground. In one swift motion, he grabbed both Misty’s slender wrists and one of the lawman’s guns, and had one of his arms around Misty’s neck and gripping both of her wrists with one hand, while he pressed the gun barrel to her head with his other hand. “DROP YOUR WEAPONS NOW!” he commanded, but neither Jon nor the lawman complied.
Mitchell’s arm tightened around Misty’s neck, and she began to choke. “Do you think I’m playin’?” Mitchell asked, “You think she’s anything to me? I’ll kill her. I’ll shoot a hole right through her lil’ head if you don’t drop your FUCKING guns this instant!” The lawman, having been in similar situations, dropped his gun. Jon, not having the benefit of police academy training, kept his weapon trained on Mitchell’s left eye.
“Ichichou,” Mitchell said as he saw that only one man dropped his weapon, “I ain’t playin’, Aeros. You just killed her.”
“Please, sir! Do as he says!” Misty cried out, “I don’t want to die!” Tallen darted out from behind the doorjamb and the two coolly shot Mitchell, once in his gun arm, and once in his ankle. Mitchell cried out in pain before dragging Misty out of another door, shouting, “You’ll never see her alive again!” Jon and Tallen sprinted after him in pursuit, shoving the lawman aside as they passed him. Over the intercom, they could hear Ayane’s voice announcing, “Entering Martian orbital space. Estimated time to atmo is sanjuppun, repeat, thirty minutes.”
“Chikushoume!” Jon cursed, “When it rains, it pours! Why doesn’t it just drizzle a bit!?”
They turned a corner to see Misty’s feet stumbling down a corner, and they sprinted in that direction. Their pursuit led them to the weightless center of the centrifuge, where Mitchell was struggling somewhat with movement, due in no small part to his injuries and a struggling hostage who was half his weight. A bullet ricocheted right by his ear. Mitchell spun around to see Jon and Tallen floating behind him, Jon with a smoking gun in his hand, taking aim for a second shot. Mitchell kicked off of a bulkhead and fired a shot into the wall of the tunnel connecting the Habitat Module and the Cargo Section. The bullet penetrated the wafer-thin surface of the corridor, and a small hissing sound started coming from it. Everyone present knew what that meant: Mitchell’s bullet had penetrated the thin hull, causing the air within to blow out into space. Jon sprinted forward, kicking off of the bulkhead in hot pursuit. Heavy, armored blast doors started slamming shut rapidly as Mitchell shot holes in every section he passed through, but Jon and Tallen darted through each blast door before it closed, kicking off of the door to increase their speed. Jon and Tallen kicked off confidently, certain that they would catch Mitchell, and make sure that Misty was safe, until a closing blast door stopped them in their tracks.
The two men crashed headfirst into the solidly built door and rebounded, hitting the blast door behind them. Jon and Tallen both rubbed their heads, and Jon moaned in pain. “You all right, Jon?” Tallen asked as Jon groaned some more.
“Owwwww… I’m fine…”
“Does this hurt?” Tallen asked as he placed his robotic right hand on the top of Jon’s head and applied pressure.
“AAH!” Jon responded, “Gloriously.”
Thinking quickly, Tallen punched the glass over the fire suppression switch and pulled the lever contained within.
On a space construct, be it a ship or a station, there are many more ways of dealing with a fire than there are on most planets. Aside from the traditional fire extinguishers, fire blankets, sprinkler systems, one of the most popular methods of getting rid of large fires is to expose the burning section of the interior to space or an artificial vacuum. Since flame generally needs oxygen to burn, it cannot do so if there is no oxygen, or even air, around it. This is most often accomplished by opening both of an airlock’s doors, or blowing off specially prepared sections of the hull, often hinged to allow easy replacement after the emergency is over. The fire suppression system that Tallen activated was this last variety. One of the panels on the side often designated “up” due to it’s position on the ship when it’s landed on a planet blew open, causing Jon, Tallen and the air within to blow out into space.
Jon and Tallen were experienced spacers. They knew better than to hold their breaths or try to breathe in a vacuum, to make sure that they were anchored to something solid when leaving the ship while in space, and they also knew to keep blinking to make sure that their eyes didn’t freeze. Of course, this didn’t at all change the fact that they were in an environment so inhospitable to human life that even if one could breathe in it that one would still die from exposure to cosmic radiation, intense heat from the sun, intense cold from the vacuum, and one’s body fluids trying to escape the body; freezing and boiling at the same time. But that would all take time, about three minutes or so, and this didn’t account for death from asphyxiation or internal organ failure.
It took Jon and Tallen a minute and a half to get to the airlock. Every second ticked by like ten, and both men’s bodies were screaming for air and warmth by the time they got to the door. Tallen grabbed the manual override, a small wheel with a trigger on the grip. Tallen twisted it all the way to the right, and he pushed Jon in before climbing in himself. Once both were inside, Jon slammed his weakened fist on the button that closed the airlock door and started the cycle process. Both men breathed in deeply and lustily as warm air flooded their lungs and the air around them. Jon popped the interior door open, and he and Tallen glided down into the central corridor, and they made their way to the flight deck.
* * * * *
Mitchell roughly shoved Misty into the open cargo bay door of Ayane’s vehicle in the Peregrine’s cavernous hold. “What are you doing, sir?!” Misty asked, with a tone of fear in her voice. “Shut up!” Mitchell shouted as he slapped her across the face, sending her flying into several crates inside. She was certain that she broke something as she fell, but Misty couldn’t be certain. Mitchell covered Misty’s mouth with his hand and pressed his gun into her forehead. “Make another sound and I’ll kill you,” Mitchell said as Misty whimpered in agreement.
Mitchell kicked the top off of one of the crates in the larger hold, and looked inside to see that the crate was full of bags of a silvery fluid. He chuckled. “Well, well, well…” he said in amazement, “Captain Aeros, the Iris smuggler…” He replaced the top of the crate, and started shoving the crates into the shuttle’s hold.
He was reaching for another crate when he felt a razor sharp blade press down on his throat. He stiffened as Ayane grabbed his arm. “Just where do you think you’re going with my ship, Mr. Mitchell?” she asked the man.
Mitchell kicked Ayane in the shin and spun around quickly, bringing his handgun to bear and firing in one smooth motion, shooting Ayane in the thigh. She fell into the pile of bags under the catwalk, stunned. Mitchell walked up to her, and kicked her in the face, rendering her unconscious.
He loaded the last crate into the shuttle, sealed up the cargo hold, and ran up the catwalk to the launch deck, and started pressing several keys and buttons. One of the displays lit up and displayed the words in both English and Japanese:
CARGO ARM DEPLOYED
MASSDRIVER FIRING SEQUENCE INITIATED
2 MINUTES TO LAUNCH
Tsumini ude wa hayabimata.
Maasudoraiva no hassha ni suruno joji wa hajimemata.
Nippun made chakushu.
Mitchell then made his way to the catwalk as the cargo arm lowered from above, and grabbed the shuttle in its powered claw. Jon and Tallen burst in through the launch deck door, guns aimed at Mitchell’s chest. “Freeze, Mitchell!” Jon shouted.
“I’m afraid I can’t stay and chat, Aeros,” Mitchell said as the shuttle began to rise above the catwalk, “Sharqi needs his goods.”
He jumped over the railing in the catwalk onto the rising shuttle. “Goodbye!” He shouted as he made his way to the cockpit. “Bastard!” Jon yelled as he shot several rounds at Mitchell, all of which missed.
“Come on, Jon,” Tallen yelled as he tried to drag Jon towards the launch deck, “We gotta stop that launch!”
There was a loud rumbling as the massive armored door covering the barrel of the massdriver slid open, and the shuttle was loaded into the chamber. Klaxons sounded as the energy necessary to fire the massive device was built up, until, with a massive electrical discharge, the shuttle was shot out of the massdriver, and out into space.
Thinking quickly, Jon leapt over the railing, down to the cargo deck below, where he landed on the wing of a red and grey spacefighter with the words, “Delta Flyer” written on the side of the fuselage in cursive English, and “Sangata Tobu” written in Japanese on the front. Jon popped the canopy open and jumped into the cockpit. Closing the canopy and strapping himself in, he shouted into the comm, “Tallen, load me into the massdriver! I’m gonna launch!”
“Ryoukai!” was Tallen’s response as he dashed to the launch deck and started the sequence up again. Jon put on his flying goggles as he said, “This is Delta Flyer. System start now.” He fished his keychain out of his pocket, selected one, and slid it into a slot on the dashboard. He twisted the key, causing all the lights and displays to turn on, and said, “All systems green.” He grabbed the yoke and throttle as he said to himself, “Let’s feel that wind under our wings.”
With the rumbling of heavy machinery, the cargo arm grabbed Delta Flyer by the fuselage and lifted it into the chamber of the massdriver. “Tallen, launch!” Jon shouted into his headset, to which he complied, and pressed the key that executed the command. With a sudden discharge of energy and gut-wrenching forward motion, Delta Flyer was hurled free of the Peregrine and out into the void. Shortly after exiting, the Flyer fired its own engines, rendering it entirely independent of its mother ship.
Mitchell was surprised at how he managed to escape. It was almost too easy, like taking candy from a baby! If he were a cautious man, who he wasn’t, he would’ve assumed that his escape was too good to be true.
Which, in fact, it was. He just didn’t know it yet.
One of the holographic displays in the shuttle’s cockpit was displaying the ship’s radar, which had picked up Jon’s craft in pursuit. “Shimatta!” Mitchell swore when he looked at the display. He quickly turned to another, which was the aft camera display, where he could see, quite clearly, the dart-shaped craft in hot pursuit.
Delta Flyer fired a missile from its nose launcher, which exploded right in front of the shuttle’s cockpit, making Mitchell shield his eyes with his arm from the intensity of the flash. Mitchell began to sweat profusely as he struggled to stay out of the Flyer’s flight path. “The next one goes through the canopy, Mitchell,” said Jon over the radio, “unless you power down this second.”
“If you even think about getting a weapons lock,” Mitchell snarled back, “I’ll jettison all the cargo, and the little ipponsuu I’ve got trussed up with it!
Not many things got to Jon Aeros. He wasn’t a man who would respond to such a threat with anger or submission. The thing that made him respond the way he did was the word “ipponsuu,” which normally was used quite innocently as a means of counting long, thin objects in Japanese. In this particular context, however, it was a racist slur against Misty and her people, the Zee-Gees, or Spaceborn as they were more politely called, since it described their tendency to be long, thin and lanky in build, but it also implied that they were objects, rather than people. Since Jon respected Misty and her people; he wasn’t all that far from being one himself, his reaction to the statement was justified.
“Racist bastard!” he screamed, “Kutabare!”
“Aeros,” Ayane yelled in her characteristically smooth, silky voice over the radio, “don’t you even think of shooting down my darling little Hoshimei!”
“What?” Jon shouted, “You’ve got eyes for Mitchell?!”
“Not Mitchell, bakayarou, the gunship he’s flying!”
“You named a gunship ‘Hoshimei?’”
“So what?! Can’t I call my own vehicle ‘starlight?’”
“Kagayaku,” Jon sighed, “I’ll do what I can.”
As Jon looked ahead, he saw flames begin to surround Hoshimei. “Damn!” he shouted, “They’re hittin’ atmo!” He began to flip switches in the cockpit. “Initiating de-orbit sequence!” he declared, “Deploying heat shield!” He squinted at the flaming vehicle in front of him. “So…” he said to himself as flames likewise began to envelop Delta Flyer, “You wanna play rough, do ya? Let’s play tag.”
* * * * *
Ayane collapsed into the pilot’s chair on the Peregrine’s flight deck as she said, “Oh… I hope that ano bonkura doesn’t wreck her…” “Huh? Wreck what?” was Tallen’s response.
“Oh, my little Hoshimei,” Ayane said as she looked out the window wistfully, “She’s pretty much all that I actually own.”
“Then… How could you afford passage?”
There was the sound of a gun cocking behind them. “’Cause she’s a notorious computer hacker. Stole the kane right off some innocent’s credit account,” said the lawman, who was holding a handgun in hid hand.
Ayane turned to face him and said, “The term in ‘information dealer,’ and, speaking of information, I borrowed the money from my father.”
“Don’t give me that oushikuso, miss Miyamoto,” the lawman said, “You’re all under arrest. Where’s Mitchell?”
Tallen hooked his thumb behind him, pointing out the window. “He’s out there with Misty, bein’ chased by the captain.”
The lawman became furious. “Don’t just stand there, you idiots!” he shouted, “Chase after them!”
“With what?” Ayane said, “Hoshimei can easily outmaneuver and outgun this old bucket-”
“Among other things,” Tallen muttered to himself as he cut her off.
“…And could swat this thing out of the sky like a mosquito,” said Ayane with more than a little irritation in her voice at having been interrupted, “So unless you feel like dying, you can wait for Captain Aeros to catch him and bring him back here.”
“I’m the one giving orders here, woman!” the lawman yelled, and made to pistol-whip her, but was stopped when Jon’s voice came over the radio, “I’m coming out of the interference zone, Peregrine. Be ready to intercept him in nijuppun.”
“See? I told you!” said the lawman as he holstered his gun, “Go after Mitchell! The captain might need help!”
Ayane started flipping switches while reaching for the steering wheel. “Beginning de-orbit sequence. Tallen, I need you in the cargo bay, please, and lawman... Return to your quarters. I’ll inform you the minute we have them in the cargo bay.”
The lawman looked furious and was itching towards his gun, but he didn’t touch it. Instead, he stormed off towards the passenger cabins.
“You know,” Tallen said a little conspiratorially, “Technically I’m acting captain when Jon’s not around.”
“Of course, except that I’m the only one here who can fly this brick.”
“Ahhh…” said Tallen as he climbed down the shaft to the launch deck. “We read you loud and clear, Captain,” Ayane said into the radio, “ETA is jugoppun.”
“Ryoukai, Ayane,” Jon’s voice from the radio said, “See you at the party.”
* * * * *
“I got him in my sights,” Jon said as Hoshimei came into view. He pulled the trigger on the yoke, firing Delta Flyer’s machineguns. Several shots glanced off of Hoshimei’s hull, but did little more damage than scratch the paint. Mitchell’s evasive piloting was throwing Misty all over the cargo module, crashing into walls and crates as she did so. She felt certain that she had broken several bones, and that she had bruises all over her body. To avoid being hit, Mitchell steered Hoshimei into a steep dive, falling into the cloud layer. Jon followed suit, putting a little spin into his flight to give him extra stability.
Hoshimei was the first of the two to break through the bottom of the cloud layer, narrowly evading weapons fire from Delta Flyer, close behind and impossible to shake. Mitchell took advantage of Mars’ geography and dove into one on the many canyons on the surface. Delta Flyer followed Hoshimei in, gunfire now in tight, controlled bursts.
The two fighters raced past a cave in the canyon. What made this cave more important than all the others in the canyon was that this one was a speed trap set up by the SPPS, and it started to transmit a message to the nearest SPPS base. It didn’t know that the two craft contained a criminal and his hostage in one, and a bounty hunter in another; that wasn’t its job. Its function was to inform the SPPS if there were any vehicles that were going past a certain speed in that canyon. Since both spacecraft were flying at just above four times the speed of sound, they were obviously going faster than SPPS traffic regulations said that they should.
“Damn!” Jon snarled, “ I’m not hitting him!”
He reached for a pair of switches on the dashboard under a crude sign that said “heavy missiles,” and flipped both of them. A computer panel lit up, displaying diagrams of the Delta Flyer from the front and side, with a glowing green button on the display reading, in both English and Japanese, “deploy missile racks/yuudoudan no dai o hayabimashou.” He pressed the button, and the twin missile pods, tucked discreetly in the corner made by the wing’s intersection with the fuselage, slid onto the wing’s underside surface, ready to fire. Jon switched fire control from the machineguns to the missile racks, aimed, and pulled the trigger.
Two rockets streaked out from under the wings of the Flyer, racing towards their target when, by the foulest of luck, Hoshimei juked up out of the canyon, causing the missiles to hit the canyon wall, where they detonated, blasting huge chunks out of the canyon wall and causing a half-kilometer length of trench collapse. Jon juked upwards in an attempt to evade the dust and falling rocks, and the missile rack rotated, bringing the next pair of missiles into alignment.
His HUD suddenly displayed text across the interior of his goggles, reading, “incoming message.” He activated his comlink, and he heard the authoritative voice of a police officer who said, “Unidentified spacefighter, the is the police. Power down immediately or we will open fire.”
“Keisatsu, this is Jon Aeros, pilot of the spacefighter Delta Flyer. I’m a bounty hunter currently in pursuit of a target, so would you mind getting off my back for maybe ten minutes? This guy’s got a hostage and about 100 kilos of narcotics in his hold, and he’s flying a stolen spaceship.”
Jon looked out over his right side to see two helicopter-like craft approaching. Instead of having rotors like helicopters do, they had a pair of large thrusters mounted on pylons that they used for movement.
“Your story does not check out with us, Mr. Aeros,” said the police officer, “Power down immediately and we’ll follow you down to a secure landing area.”
“Chikushoume!” Jon cursed, “This is not my day!”
Due to the interference caused by the arrival of the two police craft, Jon had lost track of Hoshimei. He was therefore surprised when he saw it descend from the cloud layer, underside-mounted chainguns blazing. Jon desperately maneuvered away from the hail of gunfire, but to no avail. Many bullets struck home in Delta Flyer’s hull, and one even penetrated the canopy, missing Jon’s head by mere centimeters, to burrow itself in the cluster of electronics behind him. “Damn! He shot out my avionics!” Jon yelled, “Now I can’t steer!” Jon pulled the triggers again, and a pair of missiles rocketed out of the pods towards Hoshimei. Mitchell saw the incoming missiles, and hoping that he could shake the missiles, pushed ahead the lever labeled “cargo purge.” Misty had only a second to register what was happening when all of the doors to the cargo bay blew open, and all the crates within tumbled out to begin their long journey to the ground below. Fortunately, she was quick enough to grab onto a handhold attached to one of the bulkheads, but she didn’t dare look down at her feet dangling over three kilometers of nothing.
The missiles impacted with Hoshimei, in the engine module and just below the cockpit. The blast from the second missile triggered Mitchell’s ejector seat, sending him flying through the top hatch of the cockpit. Bruised, bleeding and scared out of his wits, Mitchell soon stopped rising, and began the long fall down. He would have met his untimely end after a long fall by watermeloning against the side of a canyon or something, but Jon was feeling particularly ruthless. He switched fire control back to machineguns, and shredded Gary Mitchell in midair with his bursts, blasting him into a million pieces over the red Martian soil.
Using the fighter’s maneuvering thrusters to make ponderous steering possible, Jon flew by the falling Hoshimei. He saw Misty hanging on for dear life to her handhold on the bulkhead, and she looked back with a desperate plea in her eyes. Jon couldn’t bring himself to look back, and so he continued on ahead. “Help!” she cried out weakly, but no one could hear her as she and Hoshimei fell to their mutual deaths. She looked back at the police fighters pursuing Jon, and she saw a large, boxy silhouette coming through the cloud layer from behind. It broke through the cloud layer, and Misty could see that it was the Peregrine. The cargo bay door opened, and Tallen was standing dead center of the cargo bay with the largest rifle she had ever seen. Even over the roar of the wind and the whine of thrusters, she could hear Tallen cock the monstrosity back, and he then fired upon the police craft.
The weapon that Tallen was firing was called a Gauss Rifle, and it was the standard armament of the Trojan supersoldiers used in the Colony Wars a generation ago. The weapon used a combination of linear rail and magnetic coil technology to launch its projectiles at high velocity, often breaking the sound barrier. The weapon fired 30mm copper jacketed spikes, in this case made of steel, which would have been either an anti-aircraft or anti-tank weapon for anyone else. Since aircraft armor isn’t nearly as thick as tank armor, the four-inch-long steel core spikes easily penetrated the fighters’ hulls, and sometimes even came out the other side. Naturally, the pilots panicked. “Fall back!” the police pilot called out, “Fall back and regroup!”
“The cops are rabbiting, Ayane,” Tallen said into his headset, “Hoshimei looks to be about a hundred meters distant and falling.”
“Good work, Tallen,” said the silky, serene voice on the other end, “I’ll scoop them up. Just guide me through the woods.”
“Ryoukai.”
Tallen dove for cover behind the doorjamb as Hoshimei crash-landed into Peregrine’s cargo bay, flipping over in the process, making room for Delta Flyer to slam into it tail first. Misty lost her grip, of course, and was thrown free of the wreckage. A muscular arm grabbed hers when she began to check herself for bruises. Tallen, going back to check the wreckage, saw the lawman grab Misty’s arm, and brought his rifle to bear. As was the case in the infirmary, the lawman, once again, had Misty hostage with a gun to her head. “…And so we meet again,” said the lawman, “Look, I don’t want to hurt her either, Mr. Grifyn, but I am authorized to use any force I deem necessary to gain compliancy. If you do exactly as I say, she won’t be harmed. If you don’t,” he shoved the pistol up against her temple.
“…Her life is forfeit.
“First, drop your weapon.”
Tallen complied, and the gauss rifle fell to the floor with a metallic clatter.
“Now, close that door.”
Tallen moved hesitantly to the door controls. The lawman shoved his weapon deeper into Misty’s temple, enough to draw blood. She began to whimper in fear.
“CLOSE IT NOW!” the lawman bellowed.
Jon, who had been watching this whole drama play out, slid open the canopy and drew his trusty Panther.
“Lawman,” Tallen began slowly, “You’re being stupid about this…”
The lawman grabbed Misty’s throat with his other hand. “Do you think I’m joking?” he asked, “I will splatter her head against that wall unless you close that door this instant-!“
I will not be like this again, Misty thought to herself as she screwed up her courage and kicked the lawman in the shin. He dropped her on the floor as he screamed, “OW! You little baita!” He brought his gun to bear, pointing at the girl’s chest. “Say goodbye to your little whore here, Grifyn!” he shouted.
Misty was stunned for a second when she heard the gunshot and saw and felt the blood splash against her front. At first, she couldn’t tell what happened, until she saw that she wasn’t dead, and that the lawman had a huge hole through his stomach. Jon had the man by his face with one hand, and the other still had the pistol pressed up against the man’s spine. “Goodbye,” Jon whispered into the dying man’s ear. Then he and Tallen hauled him over to the still open cargo bay door, and together, they heaved the lawman over the lip and out into open air. They closed the door, and took the shaky Misty up to the infirmary. Jon headed up to the bridge, where he took over the controls from Ayane, and steered the Peregrine off to her next adventure.
Chapter 2: “…Where the Rich Folks Play”
Jon, Tallen and Ayane were sitting in the common room, drinking tea while examining the data card that Jon had discovered in Mitchell’s suitcase. “It’s just a standard 128 megablock data card,” said Ayane, “The only thing on here that would be special is the data on it. Where did you find this?”
“Hidden in his briefcase. Looks like it was concealed under a false bottom.”
“Didn’t the lawman say that Mitchell was part of Black Crescent?” asked Tallen.
“Yes, he did,” was Jon’s reply.
For those reading this who are unfamiliar with this name, Black Crescent is the name of the most notorious and powerful criminal organization in the Solar System. The seven men in charge of the syndicate are among the most powerful and influential in the history of humanity, and whose names are known to few outside the Board of Directors themselves. They have influence in almost every form of crime: numbers, smuggling, money laundering, fraud, prostitution, black market trading, burglary, identity theft, computer hacking and murder, to name but a few. Few members of this System-spanning corporation had any qualms about doing whatever it took to achieve their goals.
Of course, this organization also has quite a lot of interest in legal enterprises as well; the cinema, fine and performing arts, as well as the music industry have all profited from discreet association with the corporate empire, but they were not the only ones to do so. Often times, both will happen at once. The most common instance of this happening is a transport vessel, carrying legitimate cargo, has some more questionable cargo hidden away somewhere aboard ship.
Anyways, Black Crescent doesn’t operate in secrecy like the stereotypical mafia does: If you are dealing with Black Crescent, you will know it because they will tell you that they are from they syndicate, and they will tell you their terms, and you will abide by them, unless you are terminally naïve, hopelessly insane, confident in your abilities, or just plain stupid. Many of their agents are selected due to their sadistic tendencies, as well as a general lack of morals, although many will claim to have a code of honor that they follow.
The most common agent of the syndicate that most people encounter is the Enforcer, who is pretty much a cross between a hitman and a bodyguard. Enforcers aren’t always big, bulky men with large guns, however. Some are skilled computer hackers, or stealthy assassins or thieves. The next step up is the Negotiator, although the precise meaning of the term varies between the individual agents. The distinction between ranks gets fuzzier the higher one goes up until the Commander rank, the one just below Director, is reached. There are only seven Directors, and each of them has at least one Commander as a lieutenant. The Commanders usually handle all the big, day-to-day issues, while the Directors convene regularly to discuss policy and larger matters.
The various agents of Black Crescent often resort to methods such as blackmail, kidnapping, extortion or even rape to get what they want. What makes this even more tragic is when this is done for some petty reason, such as an Enforcer desiring a little control of his own over an innocent family, or an agent desiring goods from a small shop without wanting to pay. Many people have issued bounties for various agents of Black Crescent for such actions, only to find that the bounty hunters who bring these agents in are just as ruthless as their quarries were.
The reason why the police as a whole cannot stop this organization is largely because Black Crescent pretty much owns the police: Most of the heads of police are under the thumb of the syndicate, and Black Crescent has many of its agents scattered throughout the police force. In theory, Black Crescent could destroy the police entirely, but the reason why they don’t is because they would have to perform the functions of the police in addition to their own. Since even Black Crescent doesn't have the resources to do both, the Board allows the police to remain, arresting those agents who don’t cover their tracks well enough. Losing a few dozen agents a year is a small price to pay for the 10+-figure profit that the organization makes from its activities.
“If he’s part of Black Crescent,” Tallen continued, “then the card must have something we can blackmail him with.”
Jon swiped the card from Ayane’s hand. “Matte! It could be a trap!” Ayane warned, but Jon paid no heed to her as he looked at the card for a second, and then inserted it into the slot on the computer on the table. Unknown to him and the other occupants in the room, at the same time that Jon inserted the card, the lawman broke free of his bonds, and Mitchell’s eyes snapped open, and a smile appeared on his face.
The computer screen went black, and in green text appeared the words:
WARNING: VIRUS DETECTED
And, in Japanese below:
Keihou: Konpyuutaa vairasu wa mitsukemata.
With a beeping sound, all the lights went out, and the room was soon bathed in red as the emergency lights came on. “Dammit…” Jon complained as he slumped back against the couch, “When it rains, it pours.” Unknown to him, the lawman used this opportunity to break out of the passenger’s cabin in which he had been imprisoned, and make his way to his own quarters, where he rummaged through his luggage until he discovered a semi-automatic handgun at the bottom of his bag. “Here’s the little bastard,” he said to himself as he cocked it back and left the room, gun in hand.
He made his way down the corridor until he heard the sound of a struggle coming from a room on his right. He found the door that led into the room. The sign on it said, in both English and Japanese script:
LEVEL 3 INFIRMARY
Sankai byousha
He opened it to see Mitchell threatening Misty with a holdout pistol he must have had concealed somewhere on his person. “Please don’t hurt me, sir!” Misty pleaded. Mitchell replied, “I ain’t gonna hurt’cha if you do exactly as I say…”
“Hey, Mitchell…”
Jon, Tallen and Ayane bolted upright at the sound of gunshots coming from the corridor. “The Infirmary!” Jon exclaimed as he drew his Panther 9mm and sprinted for the door. Tallen followed suit.
The two sprinted down the corridor towards the open infirmary door. Please don’t let it be too late, Jon thought as he ran, sweating bullets, Dammit, please… Jon took a right and burst into the infirmary, only to see several tables knocked over, glass bottles and the like lying shattered and broken on the floor, and the lawman holding Misty hostage, with a gun pressed up against her head. The lawman, in his confusion, had raised a second gun at Jon, but lowered it when he recognized him. “Lawman, what the hell…!?” Jon asked, surprised.
“Captain,” the lawman began, “I don’t want any trouble…”
“Bullshit, keisatsu,” Jon said as he brought his pistol to bear, “If you wanted no trouble, you wouldn’t have trained a piece on me and you definitely wouldn’t have a gun pointed anywhere near Misty. Give me one goddamn good reason why I shouldn’t blow you away right now!”
The lawman shoved one of his pistols into the fleshy bit of Misty’s jaw, while Misty whimpered in terror. “She’ll die, one way or another, if you pull that trigger, Captain Aeros,” the lawman said as he raised his second pistol to point at Jon, “…And so will you.”
This tense arrangement lasted for almost a full minute; each second seemed like an hour, and neither side was about to give in to the other’s demands, until a sudden motion caused both men to turn, and Mitchell, wounded, ragged, but very much alive, tackled the lawman from the front, bringing him to the ground. In one swift motion, he grabbed both Misty’s slender wrists and one of the lawman’s guns, and had one of his arms around Misty’s neck and gripping both of her wrists with one hand, while he pressed the gun barrel to her head with his other hand. “DROP YOUR WEAPONS NOW!” he commanded, but neither Jon nor the lawman complied.
Mitchell’s arm tightened around Misty’s neck, and she began to choke. “Do you think I’m playin’?” Mitchell asked, “You think she’s anything to me? I’ll kill her. I’ll shoot a hole right through her lil’ head if you don’t drop your FUCKING guns this instant!” The lawman, having been in similar situations, dropped his gun. Jon, not having the benefit of police academy training, kept his weapon trained on Mitchell’s left eye.
“Ichichou,” Mitchell said as he saw that only one man dropped his weapon, “I ain’t playin’, Aeros. You just killed her.”
“Please, sir! Do as he says!” Misty cried out, “I don’t want to die!” Tallen darted out from behind the doorjamb and the two coolly shot Mitchell, once in his gun arm, and once in his ankle. Mitchell cried out in pain before dragging Misty out of another door, shouting, “You’ll never see her alive again!” Jon and Tallen sprinted after him in pursuit, shoving the lawman aside as they passed him. Over the intercom, they could hear Ayane’s voice announcing, “Entering Martian orbital space. Estimated time to atmo is sanjuppun, repeat, thirty minutes.”
“Chikushoume!” Jon cursed, “When it rains, it pours! Why doesn’t it just drizzle a bit!?”
They turned a corner to see Misty’s feet stumbling down a corner, and they sprinted in that direction. Their pursuit led them to the weightless center of the centrifuge, where Mitchell was struggling somewhat with movement, due in no small part to his injuries and a struggling hostage who was half his weight. A bullet ricocheted right by his ear. Mitchell spun around to see Jon and Tallen floating behind him, Jon with a smoking gun in his hand, taking aim for a second shot. Mitchell kicked off of a bulkhead and fired a shot into the wall of the tunnel connecting the Habitat Module and the Cargo Section. The bullet penetrated the wafer-thin surface of the corridor, and a small hissing sound started coming from it. Everyone present knew what that meant: Mitchell’s bullet had penetrated the thin hull, causing the air within to blow out into space. Jon sprinted forward, kicking off of the bulkhead in hot pursuit. Heavy, armored blast doors started slamming shut rapidly as Mitchell shot holes in every section he passed through, but Jon and Tallen darted through each blast door before it closed, kicking off of the door to increase their speed. Jon and Tallen kicked off confidently, certain that they would catch Mitchell, and make sure that Misty was safe, until a closing blast door stopped them in their tracks.
The two men crashed headfirst into the solidly built door and rebounded, hitting the blast door behind them. Jon and Tallen both rubbed their heads, and Jon moaned in pain. “You all right, Jon?” Tallen asked as Jon groaned some more.
“Owwwww… I’m fine…”
“Does this hurt?” Tallen asked as he placed his robotic right hand on the top of Jon’s head and applied pressure.
“AAH!” Jon responded, “Gloriously.”
Thinking quickly, Tallen punched the glass over the fire suppression switch and pulled the lever contained within.
On a space construct, be it a ship or a station, there are many more ways of dealing with a fire than there are on most planets. Aside from the traditional fire extinguishers, fire blankets, sprinkler systems, one of the most popular methods of getting rid of large fires is to expose the burning section of the interior to space or an artificial vacuum. Since flame generally needs oxygen to burn, it cannot do so if there is no oxygen, or even air, around it. This is most often accomplished by opening both of an airlock’s doors, or blowing off specially prepared sections of the hull, often hinged to allow easy replacement after the emergency is over. The fire suppression system that Tallen activated was this last variety. One of the panels on the side often designated “up” due to it’s position on the ship when it’s landed on a planet blew open, causing Jon, Tallen and the air within to blow out into space.
Jon and Tallen were experienced spacers. They knew better than to hold their breaths or try to breathe in a vacuum, to make sure that they were anchored to something solid when leaving the ship while in space, and they also knew to keep blinking to make sure that their eyes didn’t freeze. Of course, this didn’t at all change the fact that they were in an environment so inhospitable to human life that even if one could breathe in it that one would still die from exposure to cosmic radiation, intense heat from the sun, intense cold from the vacuum, and one’s body fluids trying to escape the body; freezing and boiling at the same time. But that would all take time, about three minutes or so, and this didn’t account for death from asphyxiation or internal organ failure.
It took Jon and Tallen a minute and a half to get to the airlock. Every second ticked by like ten, and both men’s bodies were screaming for air and warmth by the time they got to the door. Tallen grabbed the manual override, a small wheel with a trigger on the grip. Tallen twisted it all the way to the right, and he pushed Jon in before climbing in himself. Once both were inside, Jon slammed his weakened fist on the button that closed the airlock door and started the cycle process. Both men breathed in deeply and lustily as warm air flooded their lungs and the air around them. Jon popped the interior door open, and he and Tallen glided down into the central corridor, and they made their way to the flight deck.
* * * * *
Mitchell roughly shoved Misty into the open cargo bay door of Ayane’s vehicle in the Peregrine’s cavernous hold. “What are you doing, sir?!” Misty asked, with a tone of fear in her voice. “Shut up!” Mitchell shouted as he slapped her across the face, sending her flying into several crates inside. She was certain that she broke something as she fell, but Misty couldn’t be certain. Mitchell covered Misty’s mouth with his hand and pressed his gun into her forehead. “Make another sound and I’ll kill you,” Mitchell said as Misty whimpered in agreement.
Mitchell kicked the top off of one of the crates in the larger hold, and looked inside to see that the crate was full of bags of a silvery fluid. He chuckled. “Well, well, well…” he said in amazement, “Captain Aeros, the Iris smuggler…” He replaced the top of the crate, and started shoving the crates into the shuttle’s hold.
He was reaching for another crate when he felt a razor sharp blade press down on his throat. He stiffened as Ayane grabbed his arm. “Just where do you think you’re going with my ship, Mr. Mitchell?” she asked the man.
Mitchell kicked Ayane in the shin and spun around quickly, bringing his handgun to bear and firing in one smooth motion, shooting Ayane in the thigh. She fell into the pile of bags under the catwalk, stunned. Mitchell walked up to her, and kicked her in the face, rendering her unconscious.
He loaded the last crate into the shuttle, sealed up the cargo hold, and ran up the catwalk to the launch deck, and started pressing several keys and buttons. One of the displays lit up and displayed the words in both English and Japanese:
CARGO ARM DEPLOYED
MASSDRIVER FIRING SEQUENCE INITIATED
2 MINUTES TO LAUNCH
Tsumini ude wa hayabimata.
Maasudoraiva no hassha ni suruno joji wa hajimemata.
Nippun made chakushu.
Mitchell then made his way to the catwalk as the cargo arm lowered from above, and grabbed the shuttle in its powered claw. Jon and Tallen burst in through the launch deck door, guns aimed at Mitchell’s chest. “Freeze, Mitchell!” Jon shouted.
“I’m afraid I can’t stay and chat, Aeros,” Mitchell said as the shuttle began to rise above the catwalk, “Sharqi needs his goods.”
He jumped over the railing in the catwalk onto the rising shuttle. “Goodbye!” He shouted as he made his way to the cockpit. “Bastard!” Jon yelled as he shot several rounds at Mitchell, all of which missed.
“Come on, Jon,” Tallen yelled as he tried to drag Jon towards the launch deck, “We gotta stop that launch!”
There was a loud rumbling as the massive armored door covering the barrel of the massdriver slid open, and the shuttle was loaded into the chamber. Klaxons sounded as the energy necessary to fire the massive device was built up, until, with a massive electrical discharge, the shuttle was shot out of the massdriver, and out into space.
Thinking quickly, Jon leapt over the railing, down to the cargo deck below, where he landed on the wing of a red and grey spacefighter with the words, “Delta Flyer” written on the side of the fuselage in cursive English, and “Sangata Tobu” written in Japanese on the front. Jon popped the canopy open and jumped into the cockpit. Closing the canopy and strapping himself in, he shouted into the comm, “Tallen, load me into the massdriver! I’m gonna launch!”
“Ryoukai!” was Tallen’s response as he dashed to the launch deck and started the sequence up again. Jon put on his flying goggles as he said, “This is Delta Flyer. System start now.” He fished his keychain out of his pocket, selected one, and slid it into a slot on the dashboard. He twisted the key, causing all the lights and displays to turn on, and said, “All systems green.” He grabbed the yoke and throttle as he said to himself, “Let’s feel that wind under our wings.”
With the rumbling of heavy machinery, the cargo arm grabbed Delta Flyer by the fuselage and lifted it into the chamber of the massdriver. “Tallen, launch!” Jon shouted into his headset, to which he complied, and pressed the key that executed the command. With a sudden discharge of energy and gut-wrenching forward motion, Delta Flyer was hurled free of the Peregrine and out into the void. Shortly after exiting, the Flyer fired its own engines, rendering it entirely independent of its mother ship.
Mitchell was surprised at how he managed to escape. It was almost too easy, like taking candy from a baby! If he were a cautious man, who he wasn’t, he would’ve assumed that his escape was too good to be true.
Which, in fact, it was. He just didn’t know it yet.
One of the holographic displays in the shuttle’s cockpit was displaying the ship’s radar, which had picked up Jon’s craft in pursuit. “Shimatta!” Mitchell swore when he looked at the display. He quickly turned to another, which was the aft camera display, where he could see, quite clearly, the dart-shaped craft in hot pursuit.
Delta Flyer fired a missile from its nose launcher, which exploded right in front of the shuttle’s cockpit, making Mitchell shield his eyes with his arm from the intensity of the flash. Mitchell began to sweat profusely as he struggled to stay out of the Flyer’s flight path. “The next one goes through the canopy, Mitchell,” said Jon over the radio, “unless you power down this second.”
“If you even think about getting a weapons lock,” Mitchell snarled back, “I’ll jettison all the cargo, and the little ipponsuu I’ve got trussed up with it!
Not many things got to Jon Aeros. He wasn’t a man who would respond to such a threat with anger or submission. The thing that made him respond the way he did was the word “ipponsuu,” which normally was used quite innocently as a means of counting long, thin objects in Japanese. In this particular context, however, it was a racist slur against Misty and her people, the Zee-Gees, or Spaceborn as they were more politely called, since it described their tendency to be long, thin and lanky in build, but it also implied that they were objects, rather than people. Since Jon respected Misty and her people; he wasn’t all that far from being one himself, his reaction to the statement was justified.
“Racist bastard!” he screamed, “Kutabare!”
“Aeros,” Ayane yelled in her characteristically smooth, silky voice over the radio, “don’t you even think of shooting down my darling little Hoshimei!”
“What?” Jon shouted, “You’ve got eyes for Mitchell?!”
“Not Mitchell, bakayarou, the gunship he’s flying!”
“You named a gunship ‘Hoshimei?’”
“So what?! Can’t I call my own vehicle ‘starlight?’”
“Kagayaku,” Jon sighed, “I’ll do what I can.”
As Jon looked ahead, he saw flames begin to surround Hoshimei. “Damn!” he shouted, “They’re hittin’ atmo!” He began to flip switches in the cockpit. “Initiating de-orbit sequence!” he declared, “Deploying heat shield!” He squinted at the flaming vehicle in front of him. “So…” he said to himself as flames likewise began to envelop Delta Flyer, “You wanna play rough, do ya? Let’s play tag.”
* * * * *
Ayane collapsed into the pilot’s chair on the Peregrine’s flight deck as she said, “Oh… I hope that ano bonkura doesn’t wreck her…” “Huh? Wreck what?” was Tallen’s response.
“Oh, my little Hoshimei,” Ayane said as she looked out the window wistfully, “She’s pretty much all that I actually own.”
“Then… How could you afford passage?”
There was the sound of a gun cocking behind them. “’Cause she’s a notorious computer hacker. Stole the kane right off some innocent’s credit account,” said the lawman, who was holding a handgun in hid hand.
Ayane turned to face him and said, “The term in ‘information dealer,’ and, speaking of information, I borrowed the money from my father.”
“Don’t give me that oushikuso, miss Miyamoto,” the lawman said, “You’re all under arrest. Where’s Mitchell?”
Tallen hooked his thumb behind him, pointing out the window. “He’s out there with Misty, bein’ chased by the captain.”
The lawman became furious. “Don’t just stand there, you idiots!” he shouted, “Chase after them!”
“With what?” Ayane said, “Hoshimei can easily outmaneuver and outgun this old bucket-”
“Among other things,” Tallen muttered to himself as he cut her off.
“…And could swat this thing out of the sky like a mosquito,” said Ayane with more than a little irritation in her voice at having been interrupted, “So unless you feel like dying, you can wait for Captain Aeros to catch him and bring him back here.”
“I’m the one giving orders here, woman!” the lawman yelled, and made to pistol-whip her, but was stopped when Jon’s voice came over the radio, “I’m coming out of the interference zone, Peregrine. Be ready to intercept him in nijuppun.”
“See? I told you!” said the lawman as he holstered his gun, “Go after Mitchell! The captain might need help!”
Ayane started flipping switches while reaching for the steering wheel. “Beginning de-orbit sequence. Tallen, I need you in the cargo bay, please, and lawman... Return to your quarters. I’ll inform you the minute we have them in the cargo bay.”
The lawman looked furious and was itching towards his gun, but he didn’t touch it. Instead, he stormed off towards the passenger cabins.
“You know,” Tallen said a little conspiratorially, “Technically I’m acting captain when Jon’s not around.”
“Of course, except that I’m the only one here who can fly this brick.”
“Ahhh…” said Tallen as he climbed down the shaft to the launch deck. “We read you loud and clear, Captain,” Ayane said into the radio, “ETA is jugoppun.”
“Ryoukai, Ayane,” Jon’s voice from the radio said, “See you at the party.”
* * * * *
“I got him in my sights,” Jon said as Hoshimei came into view. He pulled the trigger on the yoke, firing Delta Flyer’s machineguns. Several shots glanced off of Hoshimei’s hull, but did little more damage than scratch the paint. Mitchell’s evasive piloting was throwing Misty all over the cargo module, crashing into walls and crates as she did so. She felt certain that she had broken several bones, and that she had bruises all over her body. To avoid being hit, Mitchell steered Hoshimei into a steep dive, falling into the cloud layer. Jon followed suit, putting a little spin into his flight to give him extra stability.
Hoshimei was the first of the two to break through the bottom of the cloud layer, narrowly evading weapons fire from Delta Flyer, close behind and impossible to shake. Mitchell took advantage of Mars’ geography and dove into one on the many canyons on the surface. Delta Flyer followed Hoshimei in, gunfire now in tight, controlled bursts.
The two fighters raced past a cave in the canyon. What made this cave more important than all the others in the canyon was that this one was a speed trap set up by the SPPS, and it started to transmit a message to the nearest SPPS base. It didn’t know that the two craft contained a criminal and his hostage in one, and a bounty hunter in another; that wasn’t its job. Its function was to inform the SPPS if there were any vehicles that were going past a certain speed in that canyon. Since both spacecraft were flying at just above four times the speed of sound, they were obviously going faster than SPPS traffic regulations said that they should.
“Damn!” Jon snarled, “ I’m not hitting him!”
He reached for a pair of switches on the dashboard under a crude sign that said “heavy missiles,” and flipped both of them. A computer panel lit up, displaying diagrams of the Delta Flyer from the front and side, with a glowing green button on the display reading, in both English and Japanese, “deploy missile racks/yuudoudan no dai o hayabimashou.” He pressed the button, and the twin missile pods, tucked discreetly in the corner made by the wing’s intersection with the fuselage, slid onto the wing’s underside surface, ready to fire. Jon switched fire control from the machineguns to the missile racks, aimed, and pulled the trigger.
Two rockets streaked out from under the wings of the Flyer, racing towards their target when, by the foulest of luck, Hoshimei juked up out of the canyon, causing the missiles to hit the canyon wall, where they detonated, blasting huge chunks out of the canyon wall and causing a half-kilometer length of trench collapse. Jon juked upwards in an attempt to evade the dust and falling rocks, and the missile rack rotated, bringing the next pair of missiles into alignment.
His HUD suddenly displayed text across the interior of his goggles, reading, “incoming message.” He activated his comlink, and he heard the authoritative voice of a police officer who said, “Unidentified spacefighter, the is the police. Power down immediately or we will open fire.”
“Keisatsu, this is Jon Aeros, pilot of the spacefighter Delta Flyer. I’m a bounty hunter currently in pursuit of a target, so would you mind getting off my back for maybe ten minutes? This guy’s got a hostage and about 100 kilos of narcotics in his hold, and he’s flying a stolen spaceship.”
Jon looked out over his right side to see two helicopter-like craft approaching. Instead of having rotors like helicopters do, they had a pair of large thrusters mounted on pylons that they used for movement.
“Your story does not check out with us, Mr. Aeros,” said the police officer, “Power down immediately and we’ll follow you down to a secure landing area.”
“Chikushoume!” Jon cursed, “This is not my day!”
Due to the interference caused by the arrival of the two police craft, Jon had lost track of Hoshimei. He was therefore surprised when he saw it descend from the cloud layer, underside-mounted chainguns blazing. Jon desperately maneuvered away from the hail of gunfire, but to no avail. Many bullets struck home in Delta Flyer’s hull, and one even penetrated the canopy, missing Jon’s head by mere centimeters, to burrow itself in the cluster of electronics behind him. “Damn! He shot out my avionics!” Jon yelled, “Now I can’t steer!” Jon pulled the triggers again, and a pair of missiles rocketed out of the pods towards Hoshimei. Mitchell saw the incoming missiles, and hoping that he could shake the missiles, pushed ahead the lever labeled “cargo purge.” Misty had only a second to register what was happening when all of the doors to the cargo bay blew open, and all the crates within tumbled out to begin their long journey to the ground below. Fortunately, she was quick enough to grab onto a handhold attached to one of the bulkheads, but she didn’t dare look down at her feet dangling over three kilometers of nothing.
The missiles impacted with Hoshimei, in the engine module and just below the cockpit. The blast from the second missile triggered Mitchell’s ejector seat, sending him flying through the top hatch of the cockpit. Bruised, bleeding and scared out of his wits, Mitchell soon stopped rising, and began the long fall down. He would have met his untimely end after a long fall by watermeloning against the side of a canyon or something, but Jon was feeling particularly ruthless. He switched fire control back to machineguns, and shredded Gary Mitchell in midair with his bursts, blasting him into a million pieces over the red Martian soil.
Using the fighter’s maneuvering thrusters to make ponderous steering possible, Jon flew by the falling Hoshimei. He saw Misty hanging on for dear life to her handhold on the bulkhead, and she looked back with a desperate plea in her eyes. Jon couldn’t bring himself to look back, and so he continued on ahead. “Help!” she cried out weakly, but no one could hear her as she and Hoshimei fell to their mutual deaths. She looked back at the police fighters pursuing Jon, and she saw a large, boxy silhouette coming through the cloud layer from behind. It broke through the cloud layer, and Misty could see that it was the Peregrine. The cargo bay door opened, and Tallen was standing dead center of the cargo bay with the largest rifle she had ever seen. Even over the roar of the wind and the whine of thrusters, she could hear Tallen cock the monstrosity back, and he then fired upon the police craft.
The weapon that Tallen was firing was called a Gauss Rifle, and it was the standard armament of the Trojan supersoldiers used in the Colony Wars a generation ago. The weapon used a combination of linear rail and magnetic coil technology to launch its projectiles at high velocity, often breaking the sound barrier. The weapon fired 30mm copper jacketed spikes, in this case made of steel, which would have been either an anti-aircraft or anti-tank weapon for anyone else. Since aircraft armor isn’t nearly as thick as tank armor, the four-inch-long steel core spikes easily penetrated the fighters’ hulls, and sometimes even came out the other side. Naturally, the pilots panicked. “Fall back!” the police pilot called out, “Fall back and regroup!”
“The cops are rabbiting, Ayane,” Tallen said into his headset, “Hoshimei looks to be about a hundred meters distant and falling.”
“Good work, Tallen,” said the silky, serene voice on the other end, “I’ll scoop them up. Just guide me through the woods.”
“Ryoukai.”
Tallen dove for cover behind the doorjamb as Hoshimei crash-landed into Peregrine’s cargo bay, flipping over in the process, making room for Delta Flyer to slam into it tail first. Misty lost her grip, of course, and was thrown free of the wreckage. A muscular arm grabbed hers when she began to check herself for bruises. Tallen, going back to check the wreckage, saw the lawman grab Misty’s arm, and brought his rifle to bear. As was the case in the infirmary, the lawman, once again, had Misty hostage with a gun to her head. “…And so we meet again,” said the lawman, “Look, I don’t want to hurt her either, Mr. Grifyn, but I am authorized to use any force I deem necessary to gain compliancy. If you do exactly as I say, she won’t be harmed. If you don’t,” he shoved the pistol up against her temple.
“…Her life is forfeit.
“First, drop your weapon.”
Tallen complied, and the gauss rifle fell to the floor with a metallic clatter.
“Now, close that door.”
Tallen moved hesitantly to the door controls. The lawman shoved his weapon deeper into Misty’s temple, enough to draw blood. She began to whimper in fear.
“CLOSE IT NOW!” the lawman bellowed.
Jon, who had been watching this whole drama play out, slid open the canopy and drew his trusty Panther.
“Lawman,” Tallen began slowly, “You’re being stupid about this…”
The lawman grabbed Misty’s throat with his other hand. “Do you think I’m joking?” he asked, “I will splatter her head against that wall unless you close that door this instant-!“
I will not be like this again, Misty thought to herself as she screwed up her courage and kicked the lawman in the shin. He dropped her on the floor as he screamed, “OW! You little baita!” He brought his gun to bear, pointing at the girl’s chest. “Say goodbye to your little whore here, Grifyn!” he shouted.
Misty was stunned for a second when she heard the gunshot and saw and felt the blood splash against her front. At first, she couldn’t tell what happened, until she saw that she wasn’t dead, and that the lawman had a huge hole through his stomach. Jon had the man by his face with one hand, and the other still had the pistol pressed up against the man’s spine. “Goodbye,” Jon whispered into the dying man’s ear. Then he and Tallen hauled him over to the still open cargo bay door, and together, they heaved the lawman over the lip and out into open air. They closed the door, and took the shaky Misty up to the infirmary. Jon headed up to the bridge, where he took over the controls from Ayane, and steered the Peregrine off to her next adventure.