“Now, Captain,” came G232’s reply. “I mean, mas—”
“Now!” repeated Rechs as the war bot loomed, advancing like a technological Frankenstein with all the circuitry in its optical sensors screaming murder.
A second later the invisible force of powerful magnetism embraced the hulking war machine and dragged it through the air into Obsidian Crow’s aft cargo deck. The slight figure of G232 could be seen working at the loading controls and peering into the firefight from the dim shadows of the bay.
The war bot smashed into the magnetic grapples and came to pieces at the anvil point of irresistible force meeting immovable object. Rechs had been banking that the war machine was old military surplus and badly maintained. He’d identified it as one of the first-gen Crusader series, homicidal wrecking machines that had seen action during the Savage Wars in the Epsilon Campaigns. Impressive, destructive offense; couldn’t stand up to squat. Savage marines had figured that out and invented the bucket-buster recoilless javelin system. Way back in the long ago… when the galaxy was on the verge of becoming a much different place. When the line between humanity and extinction had been thin. Real thin.
But Rechs had no time for the past. The bot was down and removed from his to-do list. Things were coming to a head.
The two remaining guards tried to engage the bounty hunter from separate points around the wide circular landing pad the Crow had set down on. But they didn’t work together to coordinate their fire. Rechs used this to shift momentum and take control of the battlespace, shooting them down where they lay.
A quick scan of his HUD showed no blaster-armed resistance active.
Done.
Almost.
As his HUD continued its threat scan, Rechs took a moment to listen…
He heard the dull roar of the ocean against the jagged rocks of the volcanic lagoon below; the tyrannasquid’s haphazard destruction of the ship—a ship that didn’t have much time before it hit the water as more repulsors failed; and above all this, the howl of the Obsidian Crow’s engines on departure idle. Ready to heave the ship skyward as fast as possible.
Those sounds… and…
… the harsh guttural croak of a crocosaur laughing at lesser beings.
The nine-foot-tall saurian crime lord draped in his ceremonial gold chain armor, a thing of great price among his people, stood before the landing ramp that led up to the cargo entrance of the light freighter. Behind this it seemed the sky was climbing as the wounded pleasure-maran was dragged toward the lagoon by the combined efforts of gravity and the monster squid.
“Tyrus, you have about two minutes before we hit the water,” noted Lyra. Calmly, but with caution and concern as well. “I’m also tracking a flight of inbound ships. A rescue force with a fighter escort, I’m guessing. Our uncontested departure window is shrinking.”
Gat Hathor’s massive bulging leathery arms rested on the powerful stun mace planted on the deck of his ruined vessel. The lizard’s laugh was like a rasping gasp. The eyes were cruel and yet filled with some kind of fatalistic delight.
Then he spoke.
“Rwathh kwakka doe dokathi doe… Chyrussss Ressschs.” He gritted his teeth, effecting the equivalent of its race’s smile of satisfaction.
Rechs tossed the blaster aside. He wouldn’t need it now. He was intent on taking the crime lord in so the crocosaur could face justice. The lizard had long been considered un-gettable. Now the galaxy would know everyone could be got. And maybe, just maybe, that would inspire others to try to get those other un-gettables who preyed on the weak and helpless and seemed beyond galactic law. Perhaps some pirates might even slow their roll before they hijacked their next freighter and murdered the crew and passengers… worried that the boogieman Tyrus Rechs would come for them. Get them. Bring them to the justice they’d earned.
“Chyrussss Ressschs,” bellowed the crocosaur.
Tyrus Rechs.
“Kraackk argh Chyrussss Ressschs… rucha Gaaght Hattor!”
Rechs readied himself. He’d figured all along it would be a bare-knuckle fight in the end. There weren’t tranqs powerful enough to knock out the near-mythical crocosaurs. And the lizard was well known for taking his exercise by beating to death at least five opponents on a daily basis within the main throne room of his Emerald Court. Still, Rechs was betting the crime lord hadn’t had a real fight in a very long time.
“Gat,” growled Rechs. “You’re coming with me. I’d give you a chance to make it easy on yourself… but I think you wanna play a little first.”
The lizard laughed and hefted up the stun mace, ready to strike.
“Brracho kraamagu, Chyrussss Ressschs. Brracho kraamagu urkuk.”
The giant humanoid lizard charged like a bull zephyr straight at Rechs.
The bounty hunter ducked to avoid the first swing of the massive stun mace. Even one hit from that glitteringly ornate weapon could put him down, depending on the charge. In position and out of the arc of attack, Rechs delivered a series of powerful blows to Gat’s kidneys. The crime lord roared and swung his mace again, effortlessly with one claw, in a deadly new arc.
The blow just missed connecting with Rechs, tearing through the air just above his bucket.
Rechs rammed his armored knee into the lizard’s crotch and then surged off his boots, sending his bucket smashing into the crocosaur’s long snout above. It was the best headbutt he could achieve given the difference in heights.
The move stunned the lizard and filled its mouth with broken, jagged teeth. As it reeled backward, Rechs pressed the attack, delivering jackhammer strikes as fast as he could, working the lizard’s midsection, pounding the muscles rippling beneath the gold chain, throwing both armored fists like a sudden fury erupting in some forgotten desert out on the Lost Worlds.
In seconds the armor was reduced to useless links and breaking apart beneath Rechs’s strikes.
Gat Hathor tried to steady himself and gain his footing, but Rechs kicked from the inside at the lizard’s knee, pushing it
