Chapter 8
Before Venin could even begin to aim the turret, another blast from the Flamethrower hit the top of the shuttle as they ascended. With their shields so much weaker than before, the blast hurt the Cookycutter even more than it had before, sending it into a steep descent.
Evers began to feel a sense of panic in his chest. He’d killed a hundred men during his career as a bounty hunter, using these LL-J9 pistols from his father, and he hadn’t felt much fear at all as he had faced down security and otherwise. He had known he was a promising bounty hunter and they were simply common people.
Now, though, faced by the mighty Bondik Sarkin in the Flamethrower, he wasn’t so confident they could make it out alive. Those plasma blasts had taken their toll on the shuttle. Not many people could do this much damage to the shuttle when Angor was at the controls in a good mood, but with such a famous man and grand pilot in a much more maneuverable ship this hard on their tail shooting at them, there was a much higher chance of pulverization. That didn’t reassure Evers at all.
Angor yanked on the controls, and they bent slightly. “Oh, come on,” the pilot snarled, slapping at the auxiliary power switch.
With the auxiliary power fed into the critical systems, the Cookycutter blazed to life. The vibrations from the engine grew in velocity, the lights on the turret bleeped on, and their downward plunge turned into an upward spin that again made Ever’s head ring.
Venin immediately began to use the turret controls, spinning the turret around to face the oncoming Flamethrower. Surprisingly, Bondik’s turrets had gone silent; perhaps his launchers had overheated. Whatever the reason, Evers was quite pleased they weren’t being shot at for the moment.
The squad leader pressed down on the fire controls, and laser blasts stitched the skies with their deadly energy. Angor slowed the Cookycutter to speed-limit velocity, giving Venin the perfect opportunity to hammer away at Bondik as the Flamethrower shot past them.
I can’t believe this is happening, Evers thought blankly. We’re fighting and killing Bondik Sarkin.
“Get him,” Grav encouraged, eagerly watching the Flamethrower roll and dodge away from Venin’s lasers. The maneuverable little craft was good at dodging, and had those excellent plasma cannons, but Bondik had to steer and fire at the same time, and he only had two hands. Venin and the pilots had made up six hands.
It was almost amusing, watching the famous Bondik Sarkin attempting to avoid the lasers coming from a half-dead, outdated turret on a half-dead, outdated passenger shuttle. Bondik was truly an expert pilot, snap-rolling as each bolt came his way, spinning above and around each shot that Venin sent his way, but there was no way the famous bounty hunter could dodge them forever—
The Flamethrower’s plasma turrets focused on the Cookycutter and let fly with more superheated blasts. Angor tried to spin the shuttle away, but it was too bulky to completely avoid the shots. They hit the shields, but since the pilot had already told the engines to angle upward, the shuttle managed to continue ascending.
“Time for you amateurs to die,” Bondik chuckled.
Plasma bursts flew fast and thick, more than before, and Angor was in a flurry of quick arm movements to try to dodge them all. The controls were a twisted Y by this time, but they were still working, for the most part. Venin’s shooting never stopped, as the squad leader continued to return blows at their unexplained foe.
Evers reached forward and tapped the comm button. “Bondik, what is it you want?”
The response had a mocking sound to it. “I came here to kill you; why else do you think I’d be shooting you down?”
“But exactly why do you want to kill us?” Evers grunted, voice strained as another plasma burst exploded on the shields.
“Because there’s a load of money in it for me if I do, and money is my life. Why else do you think I’d care enough about you to ambush you? If you didn’t have a price on your heads, I wouldn’t think you were enough threat to my reputation.”
Evers clenched his teeth. So somebody had put a bounty on the bounty hunters? Hand trembling with rage, he spat, “I hope you’re prepared to die, Bondik. This is it.”
“This is it for you,” Bondik laughed. “Tell all the folks down in hell I sent you!”
The slicer leapt up and looked out the window, just in time to see their worst fears materializing out of a small launch tube in the underside of their foe’s craft: an electric missile. That kind of missile could hit their shields and overload them, then hit the side of the Cookycutter. The electric missile was not meant for explosions, but an overdose of electricity in the critical systems of the shuttle would shut them down in seconds, and then they would plunge into the sea below.
Normally, falling into the sea wouldn’t be considered so bad since it left a small chance for escaping death by swimming, but when they were here above the middle of the ocean without land for dozens of miles at all points, they would drown. Which meant Bondik Sarkin was trying to bring them a long, slow death.
“BEEP!” Angor growled. “E-Missile!”
Grav waved a hand at the missile. “Venin, target the missile! Destroy it or we’re in trouble.”
“One missile, in the crosshairs,” Venin said calmly.
Evers felt quite helpless. The Cookycutter swerved and dove and lifted like a bird, trying to avoid the much-faster missile tracking them, but that also meant Venin was having a hard time hitting the missile. Add the fact that the Flamethrower was still pursuing them, still hurling plasma blasts at them in a nonstop stream, and that equaled trouble.
“This is even worse than the security forces on Durgo,” Evers growled, remembering the four fighter jets they’d destroyed there.
“Shut up,” Angor snapped. “I gotta concentrate.”
Evers didn’t argue. He just tried to hang on tight, as the shuttle spun and swooped. The missile kept coming onward, despite Venin’s bolts that hit the air all around it. Once every few seconds, a laser skimmed the missile, or even rebounded off the protite armor, but the shots appeared to have little or no effect.
Venin turned to Grav. “Reroute all power from the shields to the guns! Now!”
The sniper hesitated. “It’s a serious gamble—”
“I know. A gamble we have to take,” the squad leader replied, finally showing some strains. “Now do it!”
“All right…” Grav reached out and twisted two dials. Instantly, their shields dissipated with a faint hissing, and the charge on Venin’s turret went from sixty-seven percent to full capacity.
Venin resumed firing on the missile, coming closer and closer to hitting the pursuing weapon—
And a plasma blast hit one of the aft engines. Immediately, the shuttle rocked with the destructive force of the blast, and their speed went down to less than 215 kph, much less than what they would need to dodge the further plasma bolts.
“Oh, come on,” Angor said again. “Venin, hit the stupid missile, don’t just shoot at it!”
To Ever’s horror, Venin took the insult so much that the squad leader actually took his hands off the firing controls. Venin turned and smacked the pilot across the face with such anger that Angor nearly fell over backwards, but the pilot immediately leaned forward and wrenched the shuttle to a steep ascent.
Evers stared in shock. No one was shooting at the missile!
“How many times do I have to say it,” Venin snapped. “Don’t insult me, or you’ll get hurt.”
Venin returned his hands to the controls, and fired once. The missile exploded in one short burst of flame.
“Yes!” Angor grunted. “Hang on tight, all of you! I’m gonna take us head-on with the mighty Bondik Sarkin!”
As the pilot wrenched the shuttle around in a tight turn, Grav took back some of the power from the turret to the shields so they could afford to take the Flamethrower head-on. Evers felt his gut clench as he saw the fighter jet coming on at them, only about a half-mile away, plasma bolts streaking from the turrets.
“This is where it all comes together,” Venin chuckled.
The two ships streaked towards each other, each with guns blazing. All of Venin’s lasers were directed precisely for the transparenium window right in front of Bondik, not only trying to take down his shields, but also trying to cover up Bondik’s view with laser energy. Plasma bolts struck their shields and rocked the shuttle, but Angor had the engines and boosters going as hard as they could manage, so their forward course wasn’t hindered by the blasts. It was all going to happen here.
If both of us blow up, Evers thought, then the bounty hunters will never recover from the loss.
To his surprise, the Flamethrower appeared to be listing on one side, as if Bondik couldn’t see enough to know exactly where to add the stabilizers’ energy. Venin’s plan was working!
And suddenly, the Cookycutter’s shields failed.
Evers’ eyes popped wide. With no shields, they couldn’t even transfer the power to some other system, and they were open to the direct hits from all the plasma blasts. Angor had no immediate choice but to bring the shuttle in a sweeping downward curve so they wouldn’t take the next few plasma bolts full in the cockpit.
“If we die,” Angor growled, “I’m gonna get mad. Never died before, and don’t intend to now.”
Venin kept firing in silence, his turret lasers pounding hard on their foe’s shields. Even though the Cookycutter had upgraded shields, it appeared as if Bondik Sarkin had even better ones…or maybe it was just due to the bad little turret being all the Destroyers had.
It’s not over yet, it’s not over yet, Evers told himself. We can still pull this off, we can still beat him.
As if his mind had some effect on life, Bondik’s shields failed seconds after he thought this. Evers felt a hot rush of excitement run through him, as he regarded what that meant: the Flamethrower was now open to damaging hits, and even shots from the outdated little turret on the Cookycutter could bring it down.
“Now we’re in deep,” Angor said. “Both without shields, both mad fit to burst…”
“Keep your mind on the steering,” Venin said, continuing to spread hot lasers through the sky at their enemy.
“Yeah. I know.”
Bondik’s voice came in over the transmitter, and to Evers’ surprise, it was still as flat and haughty as ever. “You still think you have a chance, poor fools? You still think you can resist the great Bondik Sarkin, now that you’re defenseless?”
Evers raised an eyebrow. “What’s he talking about? He doesn’t have any shields, either.”
“Don’t underestimate Bondik Sarkin,” Grav warned. “He’s probably got a trick up his turret barrel…”
The sniper stopped speaking suddenly, as something happened that was immediately burned into his memory. Everyone stared in shock, as some of Venin’s lasers connected with their foe’s engines. Smoke poured from those charred holes, followed by gouts of open flame, and the Flamethrower reeled tremendously.
Evers knew what that meant: Bondik Sarkin had been defeated, maybe even killed right, before his very eyes.
And then the fighter jet began plummeting, tail-first, toward the oceans below, trailing smoke behind it all the way down. Seconds later, as it neared the surface of the water, the Flamethrower exploded and immediately lived up to its name, throwing flaming pieces far and wide from under a cloud of thick black smoke.
For a moment, no one said anything. Even Venin seemed rather shaken at witnessing the death of a legend.
Evers stared down at that cloud of smoke below. Everything he had ever dreamed of being—everything he had hoped to be someday—had just gone up in flame right before his eyes. He had participated in the death of his own role model.
“We got him,” Angor said after a minute. “We just shot down Bondik Sarkin himself.”
Grav cracked his knuckles one by one. “Damidh Kash won’t be happy, with his favorite bounty hunter dead. Kash will probably raise the bounty on our head.”
Venin shrugged. “Whatever the cost, it was in self-defense…and that means we are now the greatest of the bounty hunters. Bondik Sarkin was the only obstacle to our fame and recognition…and now he’s dead. Now we can get a raise.”
Evers stood and walked back into the passenger area. When they got back to the bounty hunter base after their mission was completed, his family were dead, and the war had started, things were going to be a lot different for the Destroyers, he knew.
But apparently he wasn’t going to get a chance to rest, because Demen was smiling. And when the gunner was smiling, that meant he was either in for a fistfight or an argument, and those were the last two things he needed if he was going to rest.
“I told you,” Demen said, poking a finger in Evers’ face. “I said, ‘Bondik’s going to die someday,’ didn’t I?”
“Yes,” Evers muttered. “You did.”
Ferus breathed out heavily. “It’s…hard to believe. I mean, Bondik had been there during my whole career, always the one everybody else looked up to and respected as the greatest. Bondik knew he was the best…and now he’s gone.”
Demen laughed. “Why in the world would you want Bondik to still be alive? He was a competitor.”
“It’s just strange not being able to think of him as the master,” Ferus replied. “He was the best of the best…and now we’re going to get the fame. Not like that’s a bad thing.”
Evers smiled. “Well, at least he’s not shooting at us anymore.”
“That’s for sure,” Demen grunted. “We were both seriously tearing into each other back there…but then, that’s what two alpha males do if they meet up.”
Ferus nudged the gunner. “You, an alpha male? Hah!”
“Don’t doubt this trigger finger of mine,” Demen said with a fierce grin on his face.
“I’ve seen you shoot,” Ferus said. “You shoot okay…but your pocket hologame playing could use some work.”
Demen clenched his teeth at the jibe. “I am not even going to defend myself against those accusations,” the gunner snarled with all the tender care of a viper.
“Good,” Evers said. “I’m tired of arguing.”
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