Farthest Reach Read online

  Shakkurru looked down and noticed for the first time a grinning tan dog of stout stature with triangular upright ears. The dog wore a jumpsuit uniform with a Strayn IV patch, indicating the stratosphere guard employed him in some capacity.

  “Owen Haul’s the name.” He held out a paw-shaped hand.

  Shakkurru stared at the paw a moment before realizing the creature wanted him to shake it.

  “What’s the matter? Never seen an uplifted Pembroke Welsh corgi before?”

  Shakkurru shook his head while at the same time shaking the offered paw.

  “My ancestors were a popular breed of dog back on Terra, you see. Once uplifting became possible, humans were uplifting anything and everything just to see what happened. They thought uplifting adorable corgis was a good idea. No sir-ree. Turns out we’re too curious for our own good. And we talk too much.”

  Shakkurru only half listened to the yammering dog. He eyed the bar. The mech pilots would enter soon while waiting on Customs, and he wanted to be inside blending in with the patrons by the time they arrived.

  “Thirsty? I was heading to Paw Pints myself. One of the better bars on this side of town. Great drinks and appetizers. Want to join?”

  Shakkurru wanted to tell Owen to get lost.

  But the corgi cocked his head to one side, his eyes sincere. “I’ll buy you a drink if you tell me where you learned to fight like that.”

  Shakkurru would look suspicious seated in the bar by himself.

  “All right.”

  4

  All manner of upright sentient lifeforms filled the bar. Most of them were anthros, animals uplifted by genetic manipulation. Seeing that the bartender was a buxom anthro hippopotamus in a lilac blouse, it was safe to assume this was an athro bar or, better known by its derogatory name, a zoo bar. Calling it Paw Pints made a lot more sense now. The few patrons that were not anthros were aliens, borgs, or humans. As one of the few humans there, Shakkurru would have stuck out like a cybernetic limb, if not for Owen.

  They found seats in a dark corner.

  “I’ll get a dog bone and barbeque wings for starters as well as two pints of mahogany ale for my friend and I. Thanks, Plum.”

  No sooner had Owen and Shakkurru placed their order did the mech pilots pile into the bar. There were five of them total, all anthros. A short ratman no taller than Owen with an eyepatch pointed to a round table that a flirtatious older couple occupied. “Take that one, boys.”

  The uplifted shark, ape, lizard, and crow men shuffled over to the table, guffawing at a private joke. They glared at the patrons seated at the table, patted their blasters, and persuaded the couple to move elsewhere.

  “Get a room, why don’t you,” snarled the ratman. Then he yelled at Plum. “And let’s get a round of drinks over here, eh, big girl?”

  “Don’t forget grub, Cedric,” said the shark.

  “Who all wants grub, besides Hemi? Thoko? Quintyn?” asked Cedric.

  The ape and the crow shook their heads.

  “I’d sssavor some sustenanccce,” hissed the lizard man.

  “Fine. Scrape up some grub for Hemi and Tushar,” ordered Cedric.

  Owen bared his teeth. “That’s the problem living planetside on Strayn IV. Us regulars have to put up with out of town scum all too often.”

  The ratman shot Owen a black-eyed stare. “What you looking at, pup?” he growled.

  “Nothing,” said Owen. Then under his breath, “Nothing of value anyways.”

  “Huh?”

  “I said, next round of drinks are on me.”

  Shakkurru kept his eyes on the table.

  “Those guys don’t scare you, right, Akio?” Owen asked, his ears pricked forward. “You could deal with them in a microclick.”

  “They will be dealt with.”

  Owen chuckled. “What goes around…”

  Plum brought their food and drinks.

  Owen winked at her, then noticed what she brought. “Crap and cat food? These aren’t the right drinks or appetizers.”

  The hippo had already moved on to other patrons.

  “Ah, Plum,” Owen sighed. “Gotta love her. She’s a sweetheart. Not the brightest, but not bad on the eyes either, eh?” He elbowed Shakkurru.

  Shakkurru did not react.

  “What, not into real women with curves? No, wait, let me guess—you’ve got a steady.”

  An image of Hanae’s beautiful face flashed in Shakkurru’s eyes. “No steady. We’re not serious.”

  “The look in your eyes don’t lie, pal. You’re in love.”

  “Doesn’t matter. She’s long gone now.”

  Owen scarfed the dog food in several bites. “You gonna eat those tentacles?”

  Shakkurru pushed them over to Owen.

  “I know a guy who knows a guy. Uplifted bloodhound. This guy can track down anybody in the whole ’verse. Literally bred for it. Retired mercenary too. No lie. He could find your long-lost woman.”

  “Would not matter. I’ve lived my whole existence in and out of cryostasis. We’re separated by space and time.”

  “Sheesh. I don’t envy you.” Owen slurped up a tentacle smacking his lips. “They say cryo users get hooked on the deep sleep like a drug. Dreams become more desirable than reality. That about sum up your experience?”

  Shakkurru thought again of Hanae but said nothing.

  “I’m sorry for you, Akio. Napping on ice is no way to live. Terran or anthro.”

  “I’ve no say in the matter. But cryosleep is preferable to the tasks my master assigns me.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  Shakkurru nodded. He was glad he had cut Robutler’s feed off. The hypercritical bot would interject if he disclosed too much information. And report it to Master Balak.

  “What is it you do anyways?”

  “I do what I’m told. I’m a slave.”

  Owen nodded. “I see. Me, I’m in the stratos guard. Been there for seven human years. Forty-four dog years. A long time. Half the time I was a mechanic, but now I’m a copilot. I like what I do.”

  Across the bar, Cedric squeaked at Plum. “Hey, big girl. You managed to get every single one of our orders wrong.”

  Plum squeezed her way through tables that were too close together. Because they had seated themselves at a table too small for them, Plum’s hips brushed two drinks off the table. The glasses exploded on the floor, sending shards and alcohol everywhere.

  Plum bent to clean it up.

  “By the Terran overlords, woman!” the ratman shrieked. “I don’t know if you belong in a zoo or a circus.”

  The bar grew quiet. A few embarrassed patrons cleared their throats, eyeing Cedric.

  “What? She’s acting like a beastie who just crawled offa all fours. Am I right?”

  Owen got up so fast from his chair that it crashed to the ground. “You apologize to the lady right now.”

  Cedric and his crew howled, beating their fists on the table. When they noticed Owen stepping up to them, they all stood.

  Shakkurru was not the only one whose hand went for his weapon. But he knew he was the only one who could move fast enough to prevent things from going too far.

  “Status report.”

  Shakkurru whispered to Robutler, “Not right now.”

  Silence on the other end suggested Robutler was scanning the spectacle playing out in the bar.

  “All right, AS-04, disengage.”

  Shakkurru whispered to Robutler, “I’m not going to—”

  The bot cut him off. “Your heart rate is elevated, your hand grips your blade, and you are going to compromise the mission if you get involved.”

  Shakkurru wanted to explain that he needed to keep tabs on the pilots to make sure they were out of the picture, lowering the risk factor while he sabotaged the mechs. But Cedric was about to sic his whole crew on Owen. It would not be a fair fight.

  The rat smirked at Owen. “Oh, you like her, don’t you?”

  Owen’s eyes darted to Plum, but he sa
id nothing.

  Cedric elbowed Hemi. “Oh, this is too cute. Lil’ pup wants to dance with fatso here all night long.”

  “Come meet me on the floor where you belong,” said Owen.

  Shakkurru took two steps toward the conflict.

  “AS-04, disengage. AS-04, confirm. Akio Shakkur—”

  “Shut up, bot.” Shakkurru muted Robutler. He would deal with the consequences later.

  Cedric leapt onto the table. His whiskers trembled as his buck teeth snapped together. “I know your breed can’t keep their mouths shut. So I’m going to let that slide.”

  Owen growled. “Scavenger.”

  Cedric whipped out his blaster.

  The pulse blade surged to life in Shakkurru’s hand.

  A loud pew rang out and a flash of light blinded everyone.

  The pulse blade still sizzled from deflecting the blast into the ceiling.

  The mouths of the brutish pilots gaped at Shakkurru’s reflexes, too stunned for words.

  “Pick on your own species.” Shakkurru let his pulse blade glow for a few more moments while Owen helped Plum to her feet.

  “Why don’t we all sssettle down?” said Tushar.

  Shakkurru extinguished his blade and went back to the table with Owen.

  After a few awkward moments conversation started back up. The bar filled with hushed tones as patrons stole glances at Shakkurru.

  Owen’s hair bristled.

  Shakkurru patted him on the back. “It’s over.”

  Owen snarled. “I could have taken them all. I probably looked so stupid to her.”

  “Who? Plum? You stood up for her.”

  “I did, didn’t I?” Owen’s ears twitched. “Stray cats! I’d love to neuter those guys.”

  Shakkurru did not know if it was the adrenaline or telling Robutler to shut up, but he felt the urge to do something stupid. He leaned in close. “Want to sabotage their mechs?”

  Owen’s lips cracked, exposing his canines.

  5

  “This was the plan all along, right? You didn’t just happen to have all the tools to hamper with these mechs?”

  Shakkurru ignored Owen.

  “That’s a yes then. Well, serves ’em right. Which one do you want to botch first?”

  Shakkurru eyed the five mechs. Besides the holograms on his HUD confirming who owned each mech, it was obvious which anthro owned which suit of armor. The first mech he spotted, a gargantuan mass of aqua blue metal, barely managed to fit in its assigned bay and stood so tall it almost scraped the dock ceiling. Every wing, fin, or rudder ended in a knife-shaped edge, from the shoulders to the thrusters. What Shakkurru first mistook for an extra thruster was in actuality a battleship-buster blade. Slow but devastating, the extra-large Powerhouse-class mech belonged to the shark anthro, Hemi.

  The next was a slim midsize emerald model, complete with laser shield and particle blade as well as shoulder rifles. A quick but durable Fighter-class mech that fit the lizard man, Tushar.

  Thoko’s large orange Artillery-class mech was much like his sapien frame. A rectangular bulk of heavy armor and heavier fire power, boasting a mega cannon in place of the left arm.

  Another midsized Precision-class had to be Quintyn’s. Sleek cascading angles, front and rear thrusters of all sizes, reflected it was designed for fast, fluid navigation. Complete with dual arm particle blades and no shields to speak of summed up the crow’s merlot mech.

  Which left the grease-black Stealth-class mech—Cedric’s, of course. Smaller than the rest, designed for covert maneuvering, but boasting an array of weapons nonetheless, it included a swiveling Gatling gun mounted on one hip and an ion cannon on the other.

  “I’ll cripple the shark’s Powerhouse. You take the lizard’s Fighter. I want to make sure those two are taken out first in case anything goes wrong.”

  “No need to worry about the pilots,” said Owen. “Plum promised me she’d drug their drinks as we left. It doesn’t matter what order we tackle them. But I’ll go ahead with the emerald mech, as long as you let me shred the rat’s main circuit board.”

  Shakkurru nodded and Owen gave him a thumbs up.

  “How do we bypass the alarms?” Owen asked.

  Shakkurru produced a small EMP from his exosuit. It had just enough range to knock out equipment within the docking lot for a short period of time, but not much else outside that range. The upside was that it would knock out all of the alarm systems any of the mecha might have installed to prevent theft. The downside was that Shakkurru’s own HUD would be rendered useless as well as some other functions of his exosuit. Which was why it was outlawed in three star systems. For all intents and purposes, Shakkurru and Owen were blind until they completed the job. But if the pilots were drugged then they had nothing to worry about.

  Shakkurru went to work, tinkering with practiced expertise. The metal hull of the mech felt cool under his fingertips, reminding him of the cryo chamber. In a way the mecha were like him, lying dormant until under the command of their pilots, their masters. Shakkurru clenched his jaw. Was this the sum of his existence? A destructive weapon that lay dormant until needed, but otherwise given no regard. Even Owen had said as much.

  Across the docking lot, Shakkurru eyed the corgi who worked with just as much efficiency thanks to his years as a mechanic. The little anthro hummed a tune as he clipped coils and drained hydraulic tubes. Owen looked... happy. Was Shakkurru happy? He did not know if he could feel joy any longer. He forgot what full-fledged emotions felt like thanks to the implant. Robutler always found reasons to recalibrate him.

  He shut off the EMP, checked on Owen’s progress, then unmuted Robutler and checked in with a status report. “I’m disarming the mechs now. The pilots have been taken out of the picture temporarily.”

  “Did you beat them all to a pulp? If you compromised the mission, I will need to inform Master Balak at once.”

  Shakkurru sighed. “I did not compromise anything. In fact I made an ally.”

  “You’re not employing the help of that anthro mutt, are you? Master Balak will be most furious.”

  Shakkurru rolled his eyes.

  “I saw that. AS-04, you do realize that I am programmed to assist Master Balak and maintain order in all of the affairs he delegates to me.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So, if you are out of order, I have it on his authority to put you back into your place. By any means necessary.”

  He knew what Robutler implied. The red button. They used it as a threat sometimes, when they perceived things on the verge of spiraling out of control. They loved to remind him that he was only one red button away from being put out of service to make way for AS-05.

  “I’ve not forgotten you told me to shut up either. I’ve logged it away for later use.”

  Shakkurru gritted his teeth. Dampener or no, he hated Robutler.

  But he did not have time to respond. The low rumble of obnoxious laughter from a male voice echoed throughout the docking lot. “You ladies really want to see my mech huh?”

  “Going dark for a click.” Shakkurru muted Robutler again.

  Hemi strode onto the catwalk with two females hanging on each arm. One, a yellow bug-eyed alien, stroked his dorsal fin, while the other, an anthro lioness, tickled his gill slits.

  “We don’t believe you’re a real mech pilot.”

  “Of course I am. See.”

  They reached his aqua blue behemoth. Both women gasped and giggled. “Is that really yours? It’s so big.”

  Ice crawled through Shakkurru’s veins. He snuck over to Owen who had a furry finger on the trigger of his hand blaster.

  “I thought you said Plum drugged their drinks.”

  As if in response, Hemi let out an energetic whoop. “Terrans, I feel good! You ladies want to sit in the cockpit with me? I’ll show you how it all works. Maybe even take you for a joy ride.”

  Owen growled. “Hair balls. Plum must have given the pilots uppers instead of downers.”

  6<
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  The red button loomed in Shakkurru’s mind. He could not let this mission get out of control. Hanae waited for him back in the cryo chamber, but only if he completed the mission. And to do that he would have to sneak back over to where he placed the EMP and turn it on again. That would buy him a few precious clicks, preventing Hemi from contacting his buddies via com link. Master Balak wanted no casualties. That meant he would need to take Hemi down without killing him. But now the buzzed women were an unpredictable factor he had to account for as well.

  Shakkurru raised a finger to his lips. Owen nodded and stayed put. Then Shakkurru moved through shadows over to the EMP. His fingers reached it just as Hemi let out a cry of frustration.

  “Tushar. It’s me… Hemi. My mech’s acting up again. Your boys didn’t do a thorough inspection. Get down here and take a look.”

  The ladies were no longer giggling. The fun died down.

  Shakkurru turned on the EMP.

  “Tushar? Tushar.”

  Shakkurru acted with unreal speed thanks to the exosuit. He jumped back and forth between the Powerhouse mech’s legs climbing higher and higher. If the EMP was off, he’d be able to magnetize to the mech and scale it with ease. As it was, he found ample handholds in the joints of the giant suit of armor. He reached the cockpit as Hemi climbed out of it. Shakkurru used the sharkman’s upward momentum to launch him out of the cockpit. Hemi sprawled out onto the catwalk. Shakkurru pounced on him delivering a series of chops to the mass of flesh where his throat should have been.

  “Akio, look out!”

  Owen alerted him just in time. Shakkurru dove farther down the catwalk as a blaster pew cut through the air. Out of the corner of his eye he caught both the lioness and the alien woman leveling blasters at him. Shakkurru let muscle memory and training from his previous incarnations kick in. He tumbled into a series of back handsprings. Each flip resulted in several shots fired at him. Each shot scorched the catwalk where he had been.

  But then he ran out of catwalk at the end of the dock. He ignited his pulse blade in one hand, deflecting two more shots. Then he extinguished it and swapped it for his pulse rifle. He pumped it and fired. His rifle answered their small blaster pews with a boom.