Before Mal could charge toward the supply pod he was tackled from behind. A large hand gripped the back of his skull and slammed his face against the wall. Mal struggled but couldn’t break the grip. His face collided against the wall again. He felt his cheekbone crunch. His vision blurred; another hit and he would be down.
Mal kicked out with his good leg, striking his attacker’s knee, toppling him. As Mal rolled away he caught a look at his opponent; a burly Zeta, almost two meters tall, most of his features burned off from the lab explosion. The Zeta howled in agony and rage as he pounced on Mal.
They rolled down the passageway, grappling to get top position.
Mal elbowed the Zeta in the head, cringing as loose, charred skin stuck to his jacket. He wrenched his knee under the Zeta’s crotch and heaved him over his head. The Zeta rolled and sprang his feet. Despite the gruesome injuries, Mal realized his opponent was faster and stronger.
The Zeta swung at Mal, who used both arms to block the blow. Before Mal could recover, the Zeta lashed out with his other arm and locked onto Mal’s throat. He struggled as the vice grip around his neck tightened, crushing the air from him.
Mal grabbed onto the Zeta’s arms but ended up with fistfuls of loose, scorched skin. He jammed the skin into the Zeta’s eyes, grinding them with his thumbs until the grip on his neck released.
He sidestepped as the Zeta lunged at him, used his attacker’s weight to flip him out of arm’s length. Mal dove, sliding across the floor toward Zelo’s body. He snatched up the N5 rifle and opened fire, riddling the Zeta with a barrage of bullets.
Mal staggered past the still-twitching body toward the portal leading to the supply pod. A knot of dread churned in his stomach. The transmitter remained silent, which meant Remu and the remaining Zetas must have found Ehzi and Sammar.
He swung the portal open, N5 ready. Ehzi was slumped in the corner between two containers. No sign of Sammar or Oli. He heard the inner hatch on the far side of the pod slam shut. Mal rushed to Ehzi and rolled her over.
“Motherfuck.”
Blood flowed from a bullet wound in the upper quadrant of her abdomen. Ehzi grunted and struggled to move but Mal held her down.
“They’ve got him,” she hissed. “They got him!” Mal put pressure on her wound but she shoved him away. “Don’t let them take him.”
He looked into Ehzi’s eyes. He knew she would never forgive him if he chose to save her instead of the boy. And he couldn’t disappoint the one person left he cared about. So Mal nodded a silent goodbye to Ehzi, lurched to his feet and staggered toward the outer hatch.
///
From the top of a mound of scrap Mal scanned the dark area below until he caught a glimpse of movement. Five figures clambered over clumps of metal parts and flotsam, quickly making their way down the hill. The small figure was unmistakably Sammar, and Mal recognized Oli’s wiry frame. The other three had to be Remu and the remaining Zetas.
He slid on his stomach to the edge of the metal panel he was perched on and took aim. It was going to be a difficult shot with a rifle in good condition; there was only a slight chance of success with the shabby N5. As they rounded the hull of a constructor, one of the Zetas moved close to the other for a moment, increasing the chance for a hit. Mal took the shot.
The bullet pierced the Zeta’s shoulder instead of the body shot Mal was aiming for. But the impact spun him around and Mal got off another shot, this time hitting him square in the chest.
He heard Remu’s scratchy voice bark orders as the party split to take cover. Oli scrambled on all fours toward a metal barrel and flung himself inside. The other Zeta leapt behind a toppled mainframe. Remu reached for Sammar but the boy bolted away, scrambling up half-buried scaffolding. He hoisted himself up and hitched his leg on the top of a tall, crumbling chunk of concrete. Remu bellowed as Sammar rolled over the top and out of sight.
Mal grinned. The little dustkicker did good.
He slid down the panel, stumbling as he hit the ground. He cursed the pangs surging through his failing body. A deep breath, then Mal launched himself over the slab of concrete Sammar had disappeared behind. He hoped he could catch up to the boy before the Zetas did.
Mal stopped, listening for the sound of movement below. Soft crunching footsteps from behind a row of tumbledown dirtloaders, the kind of sound a boy on the run would make. He clambered over dusty cargo containers and limped around the loaders.
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Motion at the edge of his vision, and a moment later bullets riddled the ground around him.
Mal dove for cover, scrabbling behind a detached metal door. He started to peek around the edge of the door and had to duck back as another blast of bullets pummelled the metal.
He heard a raspy laugh. Like sandpaper washed down with splinters. “I was hoping you survived all that, Mal,” called Remu.
“Wouldn’t miss this, Remu.”
“To be true, I was hoping you would fuck up. It made my day when the boy’s tracker pinged us after you went off course.”
“You’re more skilled than I figured, Remu – I’m surprised you trailed us. I only know how good you are at skutting,” said Mal. He scanned the junk behind him. He knew there was another Zeta still alive, and figured Remu was trying to draw his attention long enough to fall victim to a sneak attack.
“Thing is, when you left me to die in Lasco, good people took the hit. Folks who were better than you and me. The ones who fought cuz they believed in the struggle, not cuz killing was the only thing they were good at.”
Mal’s hunch was confirmed when debris dislodged from the bottom of a nearby stack of old servers behind him.
“That’s why I quit the struggle - tired of seeing the good ones die instead of nuks like you and me,” Mal continued as he raised the N5.
From behind the servers, the Zeta’s head and rifle barrel were now in view. Mal’s finger clutched the trigger…
“Mister?”
Sammar stood in a gap between scrap piles staring at Mal. Mal cursed his stupidity. Of course the boy would be drawn to his voice.
Mal dove toward Sammar as bullets from the Zeta sprayed the ground around him. Mal twisted, firing his rifle, hitting the Zeta in the head. Remu leapt into view from behind stacks of shattered viewscreens, Vyper roaring. Bullets ricocheted off scrap near Mal as he continued to charge.
He scooped Sammar in his arms and tried to zig-zag toward cover. He quickly realized his wounded leg had other ideas, only allowing him to perform a twitchy limp. Mal turned as he lurched forward to give his back to Remu and braced for the inevitable impact of a bullet.
The ground gave way under his feet and a moment later Mal and Sammar were plummeting into a yawning cavity filled with loose scrap. He wrapped himself around the boy, absorbing the impact as they crashed against the sloped walls and bounced off segments of metallic debris.
Mal grunted as they struck the bottom of the cavity. He looked up to see the opening a good fifteen meters above. The incline was gradual enough that they could climb back up, but not before Remu caught up to them. Mal spied the N5 on the ground where it had dropped five meters away from them. Sammar squirmed in his arms. He released the boy, grateful that he seemed unharmed.
“You’re bleeding,” said Sammar.
Mal saw the cuts on his arms and torso from the tumble before he felt them. He held his finger to his mouth to silence Sammar. If they were lucky, Remu hadn’t seen them fall into the cavity and would pass them by.
“Bring up the boy,” croaked Remu from above.
Mal sighed, remembering that luck was for others, not him.
“I don’t want to go with him,” Sammar whispered. His small hand gripped Mal’s sleeve as he huddled close. “I know what I am now... I know they made me a burner. I don’t want to hurt people.”
Mal saw the look in the boy’s eyes. He’d seen the same fear, the sad dread before.
He nudged Sammar behind him. He could see Remu’s silhouette at the mouth of the cavity. They had landed far enough under a protrusion of metal jetsam that Remu didn’t have a clear shot from his position. Mal motioned for Sammar to move further back.
“Go screw.”
Remu made a low, guttural sound, his version of chuckle. “Farragut ordered me to take the boy alive. Nothing more useless than a dead burner. But I will live with the failure if I get to end the traitorous son of Darus Gomes. That’s worth a song or two.”
Bullets struck the ground near them. Mal and Sammar backed further under the protrusion. He could hear Remu moving to the other side of the mouth to get a better line of sight on them. Mal considered going for the N5, but there was no way he could reach it before Remu filled him full of holes. He could feel Sammar trembling behind him.
“Close your eyes,” Mal whispered to the boy. “Do that breathing thing.”
Sammar looked at Mal, then nodded his head.
Mal watched him close his eyes. “Don’t move. No matter what you hear, don’t move. Just find your peace, or whatever you call it.”
More bullets rained down from above. This time striking closer. Sammar flinched but kept his eyes closed. He took a deep breath.
Mal stared at the N5. He pulled himself into a crouch. Burning spikes rippled from his leg through his body. There was zero chance he would make it before Remu dropped him. Another barrage of bullets struck the ground centimeters away from Mal’s feet. Only two choices left; getting picked off on his ass or on his feet. Mal took a breath, ready to spring…
He paused when he heard something heavy crashing down into the cavity, thudding against the sloped walls.
Remu landed on the ground in front of Mal. He gurgled as he tried to claw his way to his feet. Mal pounced. Remu’s body folded instantly, blood pooling on the ground around his head. Mal rolled Remu over and more blood spurted from a gaping wound across his neck.
Mal looked up to see Ehzi standing at the edge of the mouth. She faltered, dropping to her knee. Her bloody spearhead blade fell from her hand.
“‘Bout time,” said Mal.
Ehzi mustered a smile between wheezes. “I was busy.”
Mal knelt so he could look Remu in the eye as he rasped his final breath. “It ain’t over for you yet. When you see Nekka, she’s gonna rip you a new one.”
Terminal Fleet was one of the first "off-genre" books I found on RR and I was instantly hooked. Mechs, a complicated / broken protagonist, dystopian corporate intrigue, and MECHS. What more could I ask for?
