Chapter 6

 

“It’s a bunch of cargo ships and freight transports,” said Vulture, peeking through the scope of his anti-material rifle. “But I don’t see any cargo.”

Ryker knelt just behind them; the two had gone ahead of the others to scout the situation. They hid in a thicket of trees and rocks on an elevated position about three kilometers away from the edge of the city, where several large, bulky starships had touched down, forming a makeshift city of their own just on the outskirts of the ruined capital. Ryker was able to make out some of it with the binoculars, but Vulture’s keener eyes combined with the superior magnification of the rifle’s scope meant he had a much better idea of what was going on than Ryker did.

“Those dots out there,” said Ryker, peering through the binoculars and trying to make out what he could. The dust in the air around the city made surveillance even harder. “Are those people?”

“Not people like you and me people,” said Vulture. “They’re Rotham. I can see Teldari uniforms. I estimate at least two-hundred soldiers exited out of that freighter on the far west side. I’m guessing the others carry the same.”

So not supplies, then. Not food or aid or anything the planet, and even the remaining CERKO operatives, desperately needed at this point. Instead, the Rotham had finally come, in force, to claim their prize. The scorched, famished planet that had rebelled against the Empire, bled to chase off the king’s troops, and then declared itself a member state of the Rotham Republic.

“Do you suppose they’re here to protect the people?” asked Vulture. “Now that the humans here have gone Republican?”

“I doubt it,” said Ryker. If there was anything a Rotham could be counted on for, it was guile. The plan had always called for the Rotham to take Renora. It had been a concession Zane had made for something, God knows what, and Ryker and his people had been the instrument to make certain that happened. Still, it was odd to see the Rotham arrive in such force. And if the many orbital ships he’d spotted during the night were any indication, they might've arrived with tens of millions of troops. Not enough to invade a planet that stood ready to resist, but more than enough to dominate a broken world with an iron fist should that be their objective. “I'll bet they’re here in such force because they want to make sure the citizens of Renora don’t get buyer’s remorse. If the king’s troops could be repelled off the planet, why not the Rotham? Unless the Rotham make a strong statement of their presence. That’s what my money says, anyway.”

“I still don’t see any humans, or human ships,” said Vulture, quietly irritated. When Ryker and Vulture left the camp to scout ahead, their goal had been to identify a human ship because any humans working alongside the Rotham would no doubt be part of the bargain struck between Zane Martel and the Rahajiim. They would not only know about the CERKO units trapped here, they'd be expecting them. And most importantly, they would have transport off the system for them, along with instructions about how they could most expediently claim their rewards. After all, a contract had been agreed and services rendered; now Zane and his men expected to be paid. No doubt all the CERKO soldiers spread across the globe were feeling the same way, however many were still alive, that is.

“Keep looking,” said Ryker. A part of him wanted to collect his men and rush forward to greet the newcomers. They’d have their arms raised above their heads, in a symbol of peace, to avoid being mistaken as local resistance and gunned down on sight. Then, upon approach, they would either be recognized or ask to speak with someone in command. No doubt one of the Rotham high officers would be in the loop regarding CERKO’s presence and involvement here, and would be grateful for all the work they’d done. He could put them on a shuttle which would take them to Zane Martel, or wherever their rich reward awaited them, and then Ryker and the rest of his men would never have to fish or forage for food again. It was hard not to imagine lustfully the kind of estate he would buy, how he’d never have to work again unless he wanted to, and how, once he got out of here, based on Zane Martel’s own promises, he’d never want for anything again. The intense feeling of fatigue, the sickness of breathing in dust and ash and living off the wild and camping on soil that was mud and rocks; all of it had driven him desperate. And it took real discipline not to immediately give way to those instincts and make their approach.

But Ryker held back cautiously, still wanting to scout it out, hoping to spot some humans working alongside the Rotham. Someone he could trust to recognize him and deliver on what was promised. His greatest fear was that this invasion force consisted of low-level soldiers who had not been sufficiently briefed regarding the subtle nuances of how exactly the system had been taken, and they might never have heard of CERKO. Or worse, might read something in their computers about how CERKO was an at large criminal outfit and then instinctively toss Ryker and his men into some kind of terrible Rotham dungeon.

Remaining on Renora was a dungeon unto itself and, as the days had stretched on, was nearing some point of intolerability all by itself, Ryker knew. He felt and knew his men felt this, especially Micah, who was perhaps the most dangerous. This discomfort coupled with the confusion of not getting further orders, or contact, or extract, and the feeling of not having the rewards for which they’d worked so hard stretched tempers thin. Already there’d been one incident between them which had resulted in Micah giving Tank a black eye, a harbinger that their group’s loyalty was breaking down, since Tank had always been close friends with Micah. Ryker had managed to put a stop to that fracas, but had known then, as he did now, that it was only a matter of time before his group would have to split up or they’d end up killing each other. A lonely slow death in the wilds of Renora choking on fumes, or else a quick violent death at the hands of my own friends…Neither option sounded particularly attractive. And so Ryker knew he would have to use the arrival of new starships, and the Rotham soldiers, somehow, to make an effort to get off the planet.

But he held back on quick action because it just didn’t feel right. Something was off. There should have been humans there too, just as assuredly as Zane should have made contact with them again. The dead silence, coupled with the arrival of a Rotham invasion fleet, with apparently no delivery of aid for the local populace and seemingly no members of The Phoenix Ring to take part in the operation…Ryker simply couldn’t shake his gut feeling that something had gone horribly wrong, though he couldn’t imagine what.

“There’s nobody, not from here anyway,” said Vulture. He climbed up to his feet, deactivated the scope on his rifle, then looked Ryker in the eyes. “So, what do we do, Boss?”

Ryker wished he had an answer. Part of him wanted to travel to the farther side of the city, to get a better sense of what some of the other landed ships were doing and who their occupants were. Part of him hoped the humans were there, and it had been merely bad luck that no humans had landed in the outskirts here. But another part of him fully expected doing so would offer only the same result, and cutting through the ruined capital carried the risk of an unwanted violent encounter with any rebels, disaffected CERKO survivors, or Rotham Teldari they might happen upon. For now, Ryker preferred to keep the safe distance and observe what he could from out here. Unfortunately, after a few hours of this, it seemed Vulture, their best scout, had become convinced that all there was to see had been seen, which left Ryker with the uncomfortable and precarious spot of having too little information to know what was the best and safest course of action for him and his men.

“Boss?”

“We go back to camp, discuss it with the others, lay out all our options, and then make a decision.”

“What decision?” asked Vulture. “Obviously, we have to go down there and take our chances with the Rotham. I mean, what’s the alternative, to stay out here forever and starve to death?”

Ryker supposed Vulture was right, but his instincts still nagged at him that something had gone awry, and to approach the Teldari represented as much danger as it did possibility of reward. But if it was their only way out of here…

Back at camp, the decision of what to do next turned out to be divided. Vulture thought it was best, even necessary, for them to march down to the Rahajiim, hands raised, and take their chances. He was convinced to do otherwise would be a slow suicide, and surely the Rahajiim would prove grateful for what they’d done and expeditiously get them in touch with Zane and their reward. Choosing to delay was only deciding to remain miserable when the chance for relief had come right to their door. Still, Vulture at least had the patience to hear arguments to the contrary, even though he fundamentally rejected them.

Micah, on the other hand, would hear nothing whatsoever to the effect of waiting, delaying, or ultimately choosing not to approach the Rotham. “They’re men, just like us. They’re part of the plan, just like us. They’re probably even looking for us, so we can get extracted, just like the plan. What the hell are we waiting for?” Micah enjoyed their time in the woods, starving, least of everyone. And his cold but deadly temper shone in his murderous eyes. Whenever Tank or Ryker tried to make a counter point, Micah would either interrupt or turn away, beginning to march down the hill.

“I’m just saying, maybe it’s smarter to work our way through the city and check out a few more LZ’s before we settle on approaching this one,” said Tank to Micah’s back as the latter continued walking away, having heard enough.

“You shits can rot here for all I care,” said Micah, not even bothering to look behind him. “I’m going to get the hell out of here. I’m going to claim my reward and go live a life free and clear of you dumbasses. And if the lot of you want to stay here, camping until you starve, or freeze, or kill each other, be my God damn guests.”

“Micah, wait!” said Ryker, calling after him in a polite but commanding tone, which. Micah ignored. “God dammit, Micah, I order you to stop.”

Micah continued to walk down the hill, his only acknowledgement of Ryker’s order was to raise both fists and flip a bird with each hand.

Ryker shook his head. There was a time when such insubordination would have meant drawing his gun and killing Micah on the spot. CERKO might not have the training of a military force, nor the precision, but Ryker’s team had always acted like a military unit. Insubordination was well understood to be unforgivable.

“You ass,” Tank called after him. If Micah heard, he ignored him.

“I’m coming too!” shouted Vulture, as he sprinted to catch up with Micah. He turned his head back briefly to say, “I’m sorry,” to Ryker, but kept moving forward at full clip until he’d caught up to Micah.

As the two were about to disappear out of sight, Micah could be heard saying, “At least one of you doesn’t have shit for brains.”

Ryker let out an angered sigh, and Tank, whose face was flushed with rage, was quietly cracking the knuckles of one fist in his other hand and shaking his head.

“Well I suppose they’ve decided it for us, haven’t they?” said Ryker, grabbing his weapon and slinging it over his shoulder.

“Have they?” asked Tank. “We don’t have to follow them, you know. We could see what happens to them first and then choose whether or not to approach. If they get gunned down, we could still escape.”

“Escape and go where?” asked Ryker, surprised at how defeated he felt. It wasn’t a bad idea, he knew. In fact it was a very smart idea. But without Vulture and the anti-material rifle’s scope, it would be hard to see what became of their comrades. And besides, whatever their fate would be, Ryker believed strongly they ought to finish it together. He didn’t want this to be a permanent rift dividing their group. They’d been incarcerated together, escaped together, been through hell together, raised a rebellion together, and now, as they faced the choice of hiding and starving or going to possibly, hopefully, collect their long-overdue reward, Ryker felt that it was only right they do it together.

“I don’t know where,” Tank admitted. “But maybe we could steal one of the ships, if things go south. Or…I don’t know. You’re Ryker, for God’s sake; you’ll come up with something!”

Ryker was flattered by Tank’s faith in him, but still felt nothing but resigned to the destiny which awaited them, to share it with the other two. He gave Tank a look and said, “Come on,” nodding in the direction of down the hill.

Tank nodded. “If you think that’s what's best, then so do I.”

Of all the men in his cell, Ryker was surprised to see it had been Tank who’d proven loyal until the end. At least that was something to be grateful for.

They had to move quickly down the hill, climbing down rocks when necessary, and stumbling once or twice as their pace proved too fast for balance, but after only a few minutes, they caught up to Micah and Vulture.

“You’d better not be thinking of talking us out of this,” said Micah. His words, as was so often the case, seemed to carry an icy, deathly tone.

“No, we’ve decided to do the same as you,” said Ryker. “The way I see it, we got ourselves into this together and ruined the planet together. And now we ought to collect our rewards together.”

“Wow, I guess that makes us a regular band of brothers,” said Micah sarcastically.

“Well, I think it’s a good idea,” said Vulture.

“It’s also the safest thing to do,” said Tank. “If we're going to take our chances. At least together we can have each other’s backs.”

When they reached the bottom of the mountain, the terrain shifted abruptly from rocky, muddy, and forested to more like a wide open desert. There were no plants between them and the assemblage of landed cargo vessels, nor boulders, nor cover of any kind. Even though they were still kilometers away, Ryker estimated they’d be spotted soon. So he took off his pistol, tossing it to the ground, and then raised his rifle over his head. It wouldn’t be a comfortable way to walk the rest of the distance, but it sure as hell beat getting sniped from long range for looking like an enemy combatant.

At his cue, the others did the same. Disposing of weapons and gear they did not intend to keep and then raising their most prized rifles above their heads. The four of them continued to march, silently, coughing as dust and ash filled their mouths. In the far distance, the ruins of the city could be seen and parts of it were still burning. The wind was against them, and tiny particles of soot and ash filled the air, somewhat obscuring their view and stinging their eyes the closer they walked. But none of them dared to lower their arms, except to hurriedly cover their mouths and noses with their shirts. At one point Ryker even stopped, removed the tatters of his shirt, and tied it around his face to better filter the air. Then they resumed their push forward.

At about one and a half kilometers away from the landed freighter fleet, they were spotted. They could tell because two large all-terrain vehicles began speeding their way, each packed with what looked like a dozen Teldari soldiers. Ryker felt a rush of adrenaline, but forced himself to remain calm. He looked at each of his comrades in turn and saw the same feeling of apprehension in all their eyes, except for Micah, who seemed hell-bent on getting to the freighters, and his eyes seemed to threaten to viciously murder anyone who tried to stop him. Knowing his reputation, Ryker knew it wasn’t an idle threat, either.

When the vehicles reached them, their loud motors grinding and huge tires spinning, spitting up sand and ash in their wake, they pulled up on either side of Ryker’s group and stopped. Ryker signaled his men to stop marching and then kept his hands raised high in the air, despite how tired his arms felt.

The first command shouted at them was something in Rotham. A coarse, staccato-like clicking that was mostly lost to the wind.

“Human,” replied Ryker, loudly but politely. “We speak human.”

By now, the vehicles had begun to offload their soldiers, and before long the four humans were encircled by more than twenty Teldari soldiers, each with weapons trained. More commands were shouted at them, in Rotham, but none of the humans understood the commands. Even if they could speak the language, it was difficult to decipher the noises over the roaring wind.

The lead soldier pointed his rifle directly at Ryker, probably ascertaining Ryker was the leader, since he’d been the only one to communicate, and he waved his rifle in a motion universally understood. Drop your weapons.

Ryker had rather hoped to keep his rifle, it was an expensive firearm which had seen him through a lot of action, but decided it was best not to argue with twenty-something armed Teldari, especially when communication was obviously lacking. So he threw down his rifle at once and then raised his hands back in a gesture of surrender. His men did the same. The Teldari collected the weapons.

At that point, Ryker and his men were taken forcibly by the Teldari, arms chained behind their backs, and then shoved, not very gently, onto the floor of one of the all-terrain vehicles. The soldiers climbed in all around them, so Ryker and the others had to endure the bouncy ride back to the landed freighters with sullied Teldari boots mere inches from their faces.

When Zane hears about this treatment…he thought, promising himself these men would be punished for their lack of respect.

When the vehicles came to a halt, the humans were heaved back to their feet and forcefully escorted out and under a makeshift tent, which had been erected at the mouth of one of the cargo ship’s main hatches. The lead Teldari who'd captured them approached a Rotham in a lavender uniform with braided black hair. Finally, someone important, thought Ryker, recognizing the styling as that of Rotham Military Command.

The two communicated back and forth for what must have been five minutes, trading hideous cacophonous hisses until apparently some understanding had been reached. The Teldari leader bowed and stepped aside. Ryker expected the soldiers holding him and his cohorts prisoner to also step back, possibly even undoing their shackles, but they didn’t. If anything, they stood closer and held firmer, as if they expected Ryker and his men to somehow attack the Military Command officer who approach them. Rotham facial expressions were difficult to read, but this one’s large golden eyes seemed to Ryker to show genuine intrigue, and he could have sworn there was the hint of a smile on the alien’s scaly crimson face.

“You are not like the usual human rebels we have encountered here,” he said, looking up at Ryker, whose advantage in height didn’t seem to count for much in this discussion. At least the bastard spoke the human language well enough to be understood.

“That’s because we’re not rebels,” said Ryker. “We’re your allies.”

“Come again? Allies, you say?” the Rotham officer looked genuinely amused.

“Yes,” said Ryker, trying to keep any sound of irritation out of his voice. For all he knew, this officer, despite his rank, didn’t know about the CERKO operation, so he was prepared to tell the story from part one if necessary. So long as it resulted in him, and his men, getting the treatment they deserved, that they’d slaved so hard to earn. “We helped you take the planet.”

The Rotham chortled, it was an unpleasant sound, but one that Ryker understood to be a laugh. “And does it look to you that we needed help taking this ash heap of a planet?” asked the officer, as he turned and pointed. All that could be seen were bombed out ruins and countless Teldari uniforms combing through the debris and searching the few structures which remained. There were no signs of human life in the vicinity.

“No, I don’t mean like that,” said Ryker. Trying to think of what to say. “You are Rahajiim, yes?”

The officer’s expression seemed to change from smugly amused to alarmed in half a breath. “How do you know that name?”

“Because I’m working for you,” he gestured with his head toward his men, “we’re all working for you.”

The officer barked a command in Rotham, and suddenly Ryker felt arms grip his wrists then, an instant later, relief as the restraints were removed. The Teldari also removed the shackles which had held the three other humans.

Finally, some respect, thought Ryker.

“Tell me, then, how it is you work for us, human?” said the officer, folding his arms.

“It’s like this. We were planted here to stir up rebellion and make the population blame King Hisato Akira for the violence. That way, when his soldiers came, the population would chase them off the planet and then want to join you. You know, become part of your Republic.”

“King Hisato Akira, you say?” asked the officer.

“Yes, the king.”

“King Hisato Akira is dead.”

This took Ryker completely off guard. At first, he wasn’t sure how to respond. He even doubted the officer was telling him the truth. Is this some sort of test?

“How is it then your story can be true?” asked the officer.

“Look around…” said Ryker, still not sure what to think about the news of the king. If he really was dead, then perhaps that was good news. Perhaps it meant Zane had taken the throne just as he’d planned, through his puppet brother, and had executed the old king. But if so, why hadn’t Zane sent anybody to inform Ryker or extract his people? Unless he was trusting these bastards to do it, and they wanted to play games first.

“Look at what?”

“The devastation,” said Ryker. “That was from planetary bombardment, mostly. The rest was from fires and mobs and riots we started. It was all part of the plan. Your plans, yours and Zane’s.”

“Ah, now I understand,” said the officer. “Zane Martel…”

Thank God, finally, thought Ryker.

“You work for Zane Martel?”

“Yes,” said Ryker. “We’re CERKO. We were put here to pave the way for you, sir.”

“CERKO…” the way the officer said the word, it was clear he knew what it meant, and indeed, some true understanding seemed to show in his eyes.

“Don’t worry, we’re not like the old CERKO,” Ryker added hastily. “We’re not terrorists, we’re contractors; mercenaries. We took a contract from Zane, one he negotiated with the Rahajiim, and we delivered on it.”

“I can see that now,” said the officer. Muttering the word “CERKO” once more, under his breath, sounding very intrigued.

“Tell me, is this all that is left of you, CERKO?” asked the officer. “The four of you?”

“No,” said Ryker. “At least, I don’t think so. We were part of a larger cell, forty-seven men. I don’t know what became of the others. If they’re alive, they’re probably still in the capital,” he nodded toward the ruins.

“And how many others?” asked the officer. “Surely forty-seven humans could not have helped us liberate the planet.” He spoke as if he didn’t know the plan, even though he’d clearly recognized the names Zane and CERKO.

He has to know, thought Ryker. Why is he feigning ignorance? Unless he’s testing our knowledge of the plan, to make certain we are who we say we are.

“My name is Pierce Ryker,” said Ryker. “I had the overall command of the operation on the surface of the planet. And yes, there were more than forty-seven of us; many more.”

The officer looked pleased to hear this. “You, the commander? Of all of it?”

“Yes.”

Again, it was difficult to tell with the Rotham, but to Ryker the officer looked extremely happy to hear this news. Perhaps there was some reward for finding the commander of CERKO on the planet; it would be just like Zane to offer an additional bounty for Ryker’s safe return. And for the first time since the ships had landed on the planet, Ryker thought the situation finally was making perfect sense.

“Tell me of the others,” said the officer.

Yes, he’s obviously testing me, thought Ryker. Now that I’ve claimed to be who I am, I have to prove it. Well, that should be easy enough.

“There were thirteen thousand of us when we began, split into two-hundred and fifty cells of about fifty men each. Each cell was assigned to a major city, or in a few cases multiple small cities, and everyone had tasks to disrupt, destroy, terrorize, and act as necessary to provoke the populace to rebellion. And to do so with Imperial arms and uniforms, which had been deposited on the planet ahead of time in caches.”

“Can you identify these cities?” asked the officer.

“Yes, probably. Most of them,” said Ryker. He’d been heavily involved in Zane’s planning of the operation. Zane had frequently consulted with him about what the CERKO cells were capable of, and Ryker had helped gather intelligence as to which cities on Renora would be most important, and most able, to be overturned. That said, they’d tried to cover nearly three-hundred cities, and Ryker wasn’t sure he could remember every single one of them. “But I would need a reference of some kind to refresh my memory,” he added.

“Very well,” said the officer. He hissed another set of commands in Rotham and two of his men went inside the cargo hold of the landed freighter. When they returned, they had a soft globe of the planet Renora, complete with its geographic features and dots and names representing all of the important cities. A good seven hundred of them, at least. No doubt most or all of the three hundred were here, so long as Ryker could get himself to remember. They’d also brought a box of pins, and Ryker understood what they wanted him to do. Stick in a pin in every city that had been assigned a CERKO cell.

Probably still a test of proving my identity, he thought. Since, if they were using this intelligence to go and extract the other cells, they’d have a much easier job of getting that intelligence from Zane Martel directly, and likely they already had. Which was how they could test his knowledge on the subject.

“I want you to use the pins to identify the cities,” said the officer.

“I understand.” Ryker took the first pin and stabbed it into the capital, the most obvious one. He reached for another pin and stabbed it into Kroit, then one into Bathe, and continued this process. As he did, the officer had Micah, Tank, and Vulture moved into the cargo ship. No doubt their fates would be decided by how well Ryker handled this test which, to his surprise, he found himself remembering the cities rather easily, so it was likely to end well.

They’ll be prepped for immediate launch, he told himself, stabbing another pin into another city on the globe. Then, when I’m done here, I’ll join them. They’ll take us to Zane and we’ll finally get our rewards.

He felt a sense of calmness overcome him, helping him to finally relax, and as he continued poking the globe with pins, only occasionally having to pause for thought, he let his imagination wander to that grand estate he was going to buy for himself. To go from an impoverished scoundrel boy who had to live on scraps to survive, becoming an escaped convict and then an accomplished mercenary commander, all to finally end up living in the lap of luxury like some kind of pampered lord. It had been quite a story, his life, and one he was eager to enter the second act of.

He finished stabbing the pins, all two-hundred and ninety-seven of them. Three remained but, after repeatedly insisting to the officer until he was believed, the CERKO cells had never actually covered an entire three hundred cities, only just almost.

“Yes, very good,” said the officer, inspecting the globe and reading off some of the cities to himself. He handed it to one of the Teldari soldiers and gave him a command in Rotham. Upon hearing it, the soldier seemed to handle the globe with extra care.

“Now, tell me, what of these caches you spoke of?” asked the officer. “Can you identify where they are? And tell me of what supplies they contain?”

“I could tell you where they are…” said Ryker. “But that would take a great deal more time and effort to remember. Though I could do it; don’t you worry.” He was reasonably sure this was true. But desperately hoped they didn’t require him to remember all of them to prove who he was. “I can easily answer your second question, though.”

“Yes? The supplies?”

“There aren’t any supplies, not anymore. Whatever had been in there was used and looted long ago. There won’t be a single thing in any of those caches by now,” said Ryker. “We’ve been trapped here for a while, and mostly the caches had uniforms and guns anyway. The little bit of food and aid supplies were either distributed to the population under the Rotham banner or else eaten and used a long time ago. It’s all gone for certain.”

“I see,” said the officer. He nodded, appearing satisfied.

“So that’s it, then?” asked Ryker.

“Yes, I don’t see any reason to keep you from your home.”

Ryker felt a rush of relief and joy pour through him. “And my reward?” he felt bold enough to ask.

“Yes, of course your reward. You and your people have done us a great service,” the officer said. He took Ryker by the shoulder and led him toward the open cargo bay of the ship. Ryker walked with him eagerly. The Teldari followed, no doubt under orders to act as the officer’s personal bodyguard.

“I cannot thank you enough, sir,” said Ryker. Finally, to be home. To never eat fish again or berries or mushrooms or to fight the elements to survive again.

As they entered the ship, the first room appeared to be a large cargo hold, which made sense. It was only partly lit and Ryker’s boots echoed as they clicked against the metal flooring inside what was essentially a large metal chamber, with no décor to speak of. There were several crates still inside the hold, some stacked thirty feet high. As they continued inside the ship, moving between the crates, ostensibly making their way to the hatch where the passengers could ride in comfort, they spoke very little.

It occurred to Ryker it was strange for the officer to be leading him inside the innards of the ship personally. Was he planning to come along on the journey? Perhaps to collect his reward for finding the CERKO leader of the entire operation?

As they rounded a corner, maneuvering around yet more crates, the officer subtly distanced himself from Ryker. He heard breathing behind him that seemed louder than before, as if the Teldari soldiers had moved closer, now mere inches behind him. It was odd and it set his instincts on alert. Suddenly, he felt that something was very, very strange, and possibly very wrong.

His heart began pounding rapidly and he tried to figure out just what had set him off, and whether or not he was in any actual danger. And, if he was, what he could do about it. By now, the officer had stopped following him; Ryker glanced over his shoulder to see the man several meters behind, standing and watching. Is he saying goodbye to me? Wondered Ryker. Or does he expect something?

They rounded another crate and then clarity struck him like a crashing cylinder.

Spread out on the ground before him were three human bodies, mutilated. Tank was sprawled on his belly, skull smashed in. Vulture lay on his back in a pool of blood. There were no visible wounds, and Ryker knew immediately he’d been stabbed several times in the back. As for Micah, his corpse was a few feet away. He was the only one that seemed to have managed to put up some kind of resistance. His concealed pistol lay by his side, along with several spent casings, but there was no Rotham corpse nor any sign of Rotham blood. Of all the bodies, his was the most revolting to look upon. He’d been hacked to death and was barely recognizable.

Betrayed! We’re betrayed! Zane has betrayed us!

Ryker dove forward, avoiding any chance of being stabbed in the back, and then rolled along the ground until he got to Micah’s pistol, which he picked up and aimed at the nearest Teldari soldier’s face and fired.

“You treacherous bastards,” he said as the Teldari soldier dropped to his knees, blood squirting from his eye. Ryker managed to change targets and fire another shot before the Teldari rifles lit up, scorching him with hot flashes of energy. As he swiftly immolated in excruciating pain, he tried to form one final sentence. But couldn’t quite make out the words. “Zane, you fu—”