Chapter 12: Chapter 4.2 Reward

      The smell of oil and exhaust filled the cockpit of Reward’s personal star-fighter as he banked hard to avoid the stream of bullets. He fed more power to the dual engines, sacrificing the safety of his shields, to maneuver out of the pursuers gun-sights. Reward cursed as he felt the small vibrations of impacts, and had to trust his armor could handle the duress. 

      “You’ve got one on your tail!” He could hear the frightened voice of one of the Star of Argon’s bridge crew in his micro-bead. 

      “I’ve known that for a while now,” Reward kept his calm. 

      A rush of adrenaline surged through his veins as he felt the excitement of combat. His instincts took over, allowing him to process the best maneuver to get around his opponent in the vastness of space. His guidance computer screamed at him to take a series of precautions, and sent him warning messages on how best to manage the fight. He ignored them all, in fact he made a mental note to rip out the damn computer once he was back in the hanger bay. He was sick and tired of its protests. He knew what to do, and didn’t need a poorly configured auto-simulator getting in the way. 

      The pirates had snuck up on the Star of Argon from the small collection of astroids nearby. They must’ve been watching them ever since they entered the Izmis system three days prior. Its hosting star was a pulsar, sending waves of radiation, and pulses of dazzling blue light across the system. It created an eerie nightmarish backdrop for the carnage that Reward had found himself in. 

      The pirates timed their attack carefully, they waited until the colony ship had passed so that it’s engines were facing them. Had Reward not been scouting those desolate rocks at just the right time, they might’ve inflicted some serious damage. 

      Thankfully, Reward was onto them.

      Pirate vessels ranged far and wide, and these were no exception. There were originally four of them. The two light fighters were antiques, and Reward recognized them as old Huldra designs. It almost brought back a sense of nostalgia, seeing such classic chassis from a manufacturing world gone extinct. He hadn’t seen one of those since the later half of the Great War, when the colonies were desperate to refit anything that could fly. 

      The third vessel had given him pause. It had been a Sihnon Ariel Corsair. During its prime, many of its kind decorated the cosmos. This one seemed recently manufactured, but its pilot had much to answer for. Whoever was in the cockpit, he clearly hadn’t gotten used to the Corsair’s violent acceleration, and without the friction of atmosphere, he quickly sped past 4 g’s without being able to kick in the counter thrust. Reward had watched as the small craft shot past him, the pilot’s body smeared across the glass as it continued to soar into the great beyond. 

      Reward dispatched the other two fairly quickly, his precious craft more than a match for the aged flyers. The last one, however, had proven tricky.

      It was a first generation Raven class dirge-fighter. It was the oldest of the small pirate fleet, and originally built for atmospheric combat, but its pilot knew what he was doing. He relied on his sharper maneuverability to keep himself behind Reward’s tail, but lacked the firepower to bring him down.

      Reward’s fighter, a third generation Raptor class fighter, wasn’t only new, but heavily modified. Its armor was durable enough to handle close quarters punishment, and its shields were above standard. Reward didn’t flinch as the Raven behind him continued to fire at him. The old pirate craft was little more than a nat that needed to be swatted away. 

      The poor Raven had no shields, it barely had a proper set of projectile weapons, and judging by its armor, it had seen one too many fights. But damn, did it glide in the void like a dancer. Its pilot was amongst the most skilled Reward had the pleasure of facing in a while.

      It was a pity that he had to kill him. 

      After thirty two seconds, which was a lifetime for a space duel, the pirates engines finally failed to maintain its course. Sweat streamed down Rewards face as he glided behind the Raven. He felt numb from all the inner calculations, and a little pissed off that he had to work so hard against an old atmospheric craft. All it took was a single mistake, and he could’ve ended up a smear on his own glass-shield. 

      By the thirty fourth second, Reward swiftly targeted the pirates tail wing. All it took was one single burst, a simple pull of the trigger, and the pirates craft erupted in violent flame. Its guts were spilled into the void in an instant, and the pirate just became another poor soul given over to the abyss for eternal rest. 

      His heart raced as the adrenaline began to wane. Reward made a series of calculations to slow down, and restore power to his shields. He then did a full ship scan, seeing only minor surface damage reported. The paint of his left wing was chipped in a dozen places, but not a single round had penetrated the hull. Relieved, Reward leaned back in his leather chair, and wiped the sweat from his brow. Void combat like this reminded him of his academy days, where he had to patrol regions just like this. 

      Reward did one last sweep, just to make sure there weren’t any others hiding in the drifting astroids. The pirates clearly expected the colony ship to be unguarded, or defended only by point defense cannons. Four assault craft might be able to disable a civilian vessel easily enough, but against an experienced pilot with a proper fighter, those odds were quickly reduced.

      The cold rocks floating in space were empty, which satisfied his curiosity. Reward half expected to find a small corvette acting as the pirates base. There certainly had to be one somewhere, but he doubted it would trouble them further. Protocol, and his own personal history, dictated that pirates were cowards. They attacked when they sensed opportunity, and quickly fled once countered. Their assailants weren’t going stick their heads out of whatever hole they were hiding in, not after losing four of their craft.

      “Star of Argon, this is Ranger-1,” He used his callsign. “Pirates have been dealt with. Returning home.” He keyed in a series of commands, and the Raptor’s autopilot engaged. Typically, he enjoyed landing in the hanger himself, it always gave him a rush, but after that last duel it wasn’t necessary. He always felt drained after having to kill a good pilot. As the Raptor navigated back to the colony ship, Reward looked out into open space, watching the debris of his enemies drifting by in silence.

      His grey fighter landed gently in the Star of Argon’s rear hanger bay within minutes. Reward made sure a small illicit package was tucked under the seat, and was satisfied that it hadn’t been disturbed despite the combat. He left the comfort of his leather seat, and strolled down the ramp with a skip in his step. 

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      As soon as his boots met the floor, he signed a terminal from one of the mechanics, and left the hanger. He had no desire to hang around for long, he wanted a shower, and maybe some time with one of the comfort liaisons. The last thing he wanted, was to get tied down with reports. 

      Walking down the hallway, he was surprised to see a small collection of mercenaries near every checkpoint. Apparently, they were hoping to see some action themselves. Reward doubted the pirates would’ve expected dealing with a small band of experienced soldiers, should they try a boarding action. It comforted him to know, the Star of Argon was in safe hands, should he end up dead. 

      He passed them with a grin, and made his way to the elevator. One of the mercenaries was there to meet him. 

      Reward knew the head of the mercenary company by dossier only. Lora Rookson leaned against the panel of the elevator with her arms across her chest. She was tall, with dyed red hair and vivid blue eyes. She wore her nano mesh body armor, leaving her arms bare to show off a carpet of scars. A plasma rifle was strapped over her shoulder.

      “Save any for us?” She asked quietly. Her voice didn’t suit her stature. The woman’s accent rolled off the tongue, and sounded surprisingly sophisticated, given her profession. 

      Reward simply shrugged, “Sorry to tell you, but I don’t think they brought an army with them. They probably hoped to disable, and then lockdown the ship. Wherever their real muscle is hiding, its not likely to challenge us now.”

      Lora cursed, sighed, and then motioned for her band to stand down. “I’m so bored it’s driving me crazy.”

      “You can always spend time with the comfort liaison’s,” Reward scoffed.

      Lora simply shot him a disappointed glare, “Do I look like a savage to you?”

      “Kinda,” Reward teased. 

      The mercenary shook her head, and walked away without offering another word. Reward couldn’t help but glance at her rear as she strolled down the hallway, and wished she had chosen a different career. 

      Reward took the elevator to reach his personal quarters on C-deck. It was only there that he could breathe comfortably, the air was stale and coated with dust everywhere else. Once the elevator made it to C-deck, he noticed another woman stumbling down the hallway. 

      If ’sticky’ was a word to describe how someone looked, she would certainly benefit from such a description. She looked like she just crawled out of her cryo-pod, and was worse for wear. Her body-glove was stretched over her voluptuous chest, and ripped down her sides. The woman’s hair was tangled, and still patchy from the goo of the hibernation pods. 

      Instinctually, Reward rushed forward to help her stay on her feet. The poor thing looked as if she couldn’t see where she was going, her eyes were squinting hard. 

      “Can I help you?” Reward asked quickly, feeling genuinely concerned for her health. She moved her hips awkwardly, which made it hard to keep her standing straight on her feet. 

      “Need, infirmary.” She spoke with a dry raspy throat. The woman barely had the strength to lift her head. 

      Carefully, Reward helped by wrapping his arm around her waist, and lead her down the hallway. He tried to move as quickly as possible, but noticed how every sharp turn, or quickened step, gave her discomfort. Meanwhile, something in the air was making him feel dizzy. His face warmed, and his nose prickled as he helped the girl to safety. By the time they made it to C-decks infirmary, and he helped her on the gurney, Reward struggled to hide a severe erection. 

      Reward placed a call order, notifying the ships head physician that he was urgently needed, and took several steps back. His fingers were tingling, and he struggled to catch his breathe. He looked over at the blonde beauty laying on the padded gurney, gazing at her warm skin and protruding nipples. It took every ounce of willpower for Reward to turn around, and stroll out of the room. He took one last glance before closing the door behind him, it was then that he noticed the gigantic bulge in her groin.

      It gave him a cold sweat, realizing she had been transformed so rashly. Reward couldn’t help but wonder, what sort of monster could do this to such a gorgeous girl?

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