Rangers Over Regulus

Chapter 1: Ranger at the Gate-2

“Took your time, didn’t you, Libby dear. I’m sure you had your reasons. So?”

“Carter job’s done,” he responded, the shrapnel in his voice barely kept back.

“Of course it is,” Jane said, sighing and examining a gold pocket watch in one gloved hand, not even deigning to look at him. “Now that it’s done, silly Jackson can get back to running things in that sector. I’m very displeased he couldn’t deal with it himself, but that’s not for you to handle. I have another job for you.”

“Yes?”

“There’s a ship requesting docking down in sector D, and I need you to check out the passengers. When you’ve finished, you must come straight back to me and tell me about them.” She said this sounding thoroughly bored of the conversation, looking at her scarlet nails as if searching for a chip in them.

“You can’t just demand to know everything about them?” Liberty asked, frowning, because no one so much as breathed without Jane’s permission on this craft.

She finally looked at him, swishing bright auburn hair out of the way of her pale face. “It’s a Legacy ship. Whoever is aboard refuses to answer any of my questions and hasn’t explained anything. All it has done is repeatedly ask to dock.”

“So the government is involved?” Libs licked his lip thoughtfully. “I haven’t seen a government craft in a very long time, miss.” Jane grinned, a white glint of teeth behind crimson lips. “I am curious to see what type of person has ventured out here, and what they want. It’s strange, Libby. No one refuses me. They are either very brave, or very, very ignorant.”

“I know how much you like the ignorant ones, miss.”

“I’m anticipating enjoying this. Do hurry up, though, Libby darling. I hate waiting.”

Libs and Stella left the compound, and Stella halted once they were back outside the Saloon. She bit her lip and scuffed at the ground with the toe of one boot.

“I don’t like this, Libs,” she said, shaking her head. “Government types are trouble.”

“Too true.” Libs scowled. “But a job’s a job. I have to see what’s up.”

“Better hurry, then, if they’re down in D Sector.”

“Right. Keep me updated, Stella.”

“Will do.”

Liberty knew he didn’t really have to hurry. It took forever for new ships like the ones from the inner planets to dock safely at an old station like Leonis Alpha. Anyway, Stella likely assumed he was taking the way most people took to get down the several levels to D Sector. A level of a space station covered several stories, and so the stairs took a while to descend, especially if one was looking for trouble. No one ever bothered Libs, but Stella, with her short stature, had shot her fair number of highway bandits that had thought she was an easy target while trading in other sectors.

But Libs wasn’t taking the stairs. The only time he did was when pickings were slim for a decent meal and he needed to find someone quick. But since he’d just eaten, he had no need to stop for anything along the way, so he took a shortcut.

He set out from the Core towards Westside. Westside was the area of his earlier job for Jane. The main boulevard was wide enough to fit a vehicle traveling in either direction. This had once been a mining facility, and at one point there had been plenty of machinery and material being hauled from dock to dock. Westside was another set of compounds and buildings similar to the Core, a five kilometer hike away. Several minor halls and corridors branched off from the main boulevard.

He walked briskly down the main boulevard before cutting into one of the smaller intersections. After that, he wove his way through side streets and alleys. As he went deeper into the maze of backroads, the darker it got, until no light shone at all. Libs could see without light, so its absence never bothered him. The air was slightly damp and still, musty with layers of dust and grime. In some areas, the metal had corroded away with rust.

He reached the opening of the lift shaft without meeting so much as a stray cat along the way. The station hadn’t had enough power to run the lifts for a long time. Most people deemed the empty shafts as useless after that, but for Libs, they were still quite functional. He had run a length of chain from the rung of a metal ladder on the inside so he could slide down and climb up again as he pleased.

The chain rattled as he grabbed it, tugging several times to make sure it hadn’t come loose or rusted through since he’d last used it. He could fall and break apart on the bottom of the shaft far below, but his existence would continue anyway. Yet Libs would rather not have to wait for himself to heal from a fall like that, so he never took the chance it could happen.

The chain held, and Libs rappelled down the side of the lift, the chain clanking against the metal walls as he descended. It didn’t take long, although the palm of one of his leather gloves wore through on the way. The chain abraded his skin, but he ignored it. It would heal, and pain was just something one got used to after centuries of being alive.

He’d once been hit with shrapnel of a grenade, sometime in the 20th Century. Several chunks of hot metal had actually gone straight through his body and emerged on the other side as gore-covered pieces, some trailing bits of his intestines. That had hurt far worse and had taken days to heal, so he could deal with a scrape.

Once he hit the bottom, he set out for the docking bays in D Sector. Not many people came through this way, what with most of the mining facility shut down. Once, there had been droves of people, mainly miners, who had worked for the company that had managed to get the contract for picking their first drilling sites. The planet below was mostly picked bare, with a few independent workers searching through the scraps.

The docks were empty, although Libs knew a small camp nearby sold a selection of odds and ends for the few travellers that sporadically came through. The lights in one of the docking bays was glowing green, indicating it was in use, and safe to enter. Whoever was in there had finished equalizing pressure and could now leave the docking area.

Libs slipped inside, making sure to silently close the door behind him. He wanted to get a look at whoever was in there before they saw even a glimpse of him. In fact, he didn’t want to be seen unless absolutely necessary. If it turned out that this Legacy fodder was someone Jane wanted to meet, her goons could fetch him.

There was a ship in the dock, and next to the refuse of Leonis Alpha, the craft was a flower among weeds. It was sleek and white, without a scratch to mar its shining surface. The legs were spindly and delicate, and the ship daintily perched on them. Whoever owned this vessel was likely wealthier than the entire station put together. Jane would definitely want to meet them—that Libs knew even before the hatch opened.

Before anyone emerged, Libs scaled a ladder and scurried along the catwalk above the ship to a spot that gave him a view of the entire docking bay as well as all the exits. He halted and flattened himself to the metal grate, not moving an inch, not even to blink, then waited for the ship’s owner to emerge.

The hatch opened soundlessly, not even emitting a hissing noise like most ships did. Libs listened carefully, and one set of light, even footsteps sounded on the high quality metal of the ship’s walkway. The first thing he saw was a set of leather boots, a rich gold-brown colour, supple and snug, laced up the front.

The boots sedately walked down the ramp, revealing their owner in increments of gold and white. His uniform jacket, spotless, shining white edged in gleaming gold, came down to mid-thigh. His body armour underneath was golden and the high-neck collar of the concealed shirt was white. When Liberty could finally see the man’s face—for he was undoubtedly a man, tall and leanly muscled—he nearly breathed.

His hair glinted like sunlight, although there was a silver swath from the top of his head down the right side, indicating a scar below. He was daylight. Everything about him shone bright, like a beacon. He was blinding, almost painful to look at. Libs’ eyes stung.

The man looked around, putting one hand on his hip, lifting the other to run through his corn-silk-coloured hair. He huffed a breath, eyes scanning the cold, grimy docking bay. His gaze swept over Liberty’s hiding spot, but didn’t stop.

“Blaise,” he rapped sharply, glancing over one of his squared shoulders. “Get your rump out here, you contrary animal, and tell me what you think.”

His voice was a honeyed tenor, and Liberty wanted to drink it in.

To Liberty’s ears, the approaching footsteps sounded achingly familiar: hoofbeats. He leaned slightly over the edge, straining to see.

What emerged from the ship was nothing like he’d ever seen, and that was saying a lot, considering what had come before it. It was a strange blue-grey colour and its hooves were matte black. Whatever it was, it was not a horse. The creature was as sleek as its owner and fitted out with a saddle and hackamore bridle. It still wasn’t a horse. Yet it had four straight, strong legs and a powerful body. It had a black, braided mane and a long, swishing tail. But it was not a horse.

Its heart’s beating was too precise, the breathing of the lungs too even. Underneath the smell of horse was something strangely metallic, too strong to be blood. It ran like clockwork, its movements too perfectly executed. It was too much and too little, whatever it was.

Then it talked.

“What don’t you see that you need me for?” The voice was clear and high, like the strike of a silver spoon on fine crystal.

“Nothing. There’s no one here. Do your sensors see anything? Mine can’t pick up anything.”

“If you’d just get the upgrade like I keep telling you, you wouldn’t have to ask,” the creature responded with an equine snort.

“Too much hassle,” the man replied, eyes still searching the area. “So?”

“Nothing that’s alive is anywhere near here. There’s a small settlement not too far away. What’s the plan of action, Captain?”

“I suppose there’s nothing to it but scout the place.” The man sighed and hung his head for a moment. “Just let me lock up the ship and then we can go.”

As the man turned, Libs caught the golden glint of something on his chest, pinned over his heart. It was in the shape of a shield, and its metal edge caught even the dullest glimmer from the weak overhead lights. He shuffled forward on his elbows, leaning out even farther to catch another glimpse of it.

The hatch of the ship closed and the man tucked something into an inner jacket pocket, patting the lump and wiping the front, although it was flawlessly clean. He then grasped the pommel of the saddle and easily swung into the seat with a practiced movement. The badge came right into Libs’ line of vision and it took a moment to identify it.

A Ranger’s badge. He was a Ranger of Legacy. Libs had sucked in a harsh lungful of air before he’d thought the action through and bit back a curse in the same breath. Even after all this time, he couldn’t hold back the remains of instincts he’d had as a human. He didn’t need to breathe to live, just to give his voice power. He held the inhale, but to his ears, that one gasp echoed around the docking bay.

Not just to his ears. The horse-creature’s ears swivelled, then its entire head snapped up and c****d to the left, searching. It took a remarkably short time to zero in on his location.

“There’s someone up there,” it reported, one eye still on him. “It’s not human.”

The man’s head followed the horse’s line of sight, but Libs was already moving. He couldn’t be caught before he reported to Jane, and he had the feeling a Ranger would not take kindly to being spied on. He rolled to his feet and sprinted down the catwalk faster than the human eye could see. There was a metal door in front of him, but he didn’t take the time to open it. He lashed out with one foot and the entire thing crumpled. He didn’t even pause as he vaulted over a railing and hit the floor below. He raced towards the lift shaft.