Sean-Michael Argo - Hard Cargo

Now it was a matter of Samuel Hyst making the next right move because if he did not, the armed and dangerous people around him would.

“Hyst get your fangs out!” shouted Narek as he stomped down the Halo ’s loading ramp and slammed his booted feet against the deck of the docking platform, “We’ve got incoming!”

Samuel dropped the handle of the grav-lift full of ink-rock containers he’d been steering and yanked the combo revolver from the holster on his hip. Sura usually carried the heavy weapon, but since no such obvious firepower was allowed on the station proper she’d been forced to leave it behind.

Each cargo platform was something like neutral ground between the docking ship and the Dagda, and for the sake of propriety, spacefarers were not restricted here. The security of cargo and a non-violent exchange was important to the masters of the station, and having an armed crew invested in everything going smoothly made the job of the security teams all the easier.

No sooner had Samuel cleared leather than a man in patchwork armor emerged from the main entrance hatch and started firing with what appeared to be a small bull-pup assault rifle. It reminded Samuel of the sort of weapons he had seen carried by cor-sec armsmen on board the larger corporate vessels. It fired special Fenrir, Inc. bullets often called “deck rounds” and was one of the more popular weapons among those who had to fight inside pressurized spacecraft. The rounds had a solid kick behind them when they were fired, but the projectiles themselves were made of an exceptionally soft metal. This way the bullets would either flatten out against armor or hulls without causing any collateral damage to the station, but would tear through flesh easily.

Samuel wasn’t wearing any armor today, unfortunately, just the usual flight suit he wore for non-combat assignments. He leaped for cover just before a flurry of bullets spanked into the deck, side of the ship, and the, thankfully, thick hides of the ink-rock containers.

The Rubicon desk rep was not as swift to react, and when the man with the assault rifle tracked Samuel with his fire the rep’s body was stitched with four rounds across the torso before he realized quite what was happening.

The bark of Narek’s Helion battle rifle cut through Samuel’s awareness, and just as he rose to lend his fire to the former trooper’s he saw another hostile individual rush through the hatch and pitch something into the air. At the last second, the marine realized what it was and shielded his eyes. The thrown object turned out to be a flash grenade, and as soon as it detonated, Samuel heard Narek start cursing. Meridian, the ship’s pilot, was crouched down behind his own overturned grav-lift, which was already shot to pieces, and if he stayed there a moment longer he’d be dead.

Samuel pulled back the hammer of the combo revolver and pulled the cylinder full of standard rounds to swap it out with one of his other speed loaders. In the time it took him to do that he could hear Narek continuing to shout angrily as he laid down suppressing fire. He might be blind, but he knew that if he didn’t pour it on, the enemy would have a chance to drop him. Samuel saw more bullets tear apart the overturned grav-lift, and two bit into Meridian’s left calf as he tried to sprint away.

The marine crouched low as he came around the other side of his lift and leveled the heavy revolver at the man with the assault rifle. In the span of a breath, he was able to see that the man’s patchwork armor wasn’t actually as patchwork as he’d initially thought, instead it was a solid suit with rags hanging over it, masking the quality for all but the most knowledgeable of observers.

Mercs, and better than the sort Dar could afford.

Samuel squeezed the trigger of the revolver, and a homemade explosive round knocked the merc off his feet as it exploded against his chest plate. The wildcat ammunition was worth the money Samuel had paid for it, and thanks to the rugged nature of the ganger weapon it could fire all manner of rounds without fail. Samuel swept his weapon to the side and fired again at the merc who’d thrown the flash, though his shot went wide and blew a chunk of metal and wiring out of the opposite wall.

The marine’s opening shots were enough to buy Meridian time to scamper up the plank and into the Halo . A third armored mercenary started shooting at Narek from the elevated dock master’s platform, drawing Samuel’s attention away from the gunfight erupting between the last of two surviving Rubicon cor-sec staffers who had the misfortune of drawing duty on the Rig Halo delivery. The cor-sec staffers were only armed with station pistols, small caliber weapons that were standard issue on Dagda, and though the staffer was able to score several hits against the merc who assailed him, the stout armor stopped them all.

Samuel fired two rounds at the elevated shooter. Behind him, the marine could hear Narek cry out in pain and the sound of his armored body hitting the deck. The first round went wide as Samuel ran from his lift to a more robust pylon for cover. It was enough to distract the shooter from finishing Narek, and the merc swept his rifle towards Samuel.

The marine slowly let out his breath as he took his time with the second shot, aiming more carefully at what he could see of the merc from his disadvantaged position. The explosive round struck the merc in the knee and when it detonated the man was left without anything below his thigh.

The wounded merc screamed as he held himself against the rail with one good hand and sprayed full-auto fire at Samuel. The marine dove for the body of the dead Rubicon cor-sec staffer, and grasped the corpse by the shoulder straps of his low-grade bulletproof vest. Samuel felt a round punch through the meat of his calf as he hauled the staffer over him, the vest of the dead man absorbing several more rounds that surely would have ended the marine’s life. The rifle clattered to the ground and Samuel peeked out from under the corpse to see that the merc had bled out, his body now hanging limply against the railing.

The marine rushed back to the revolver he’d dropped as Narek, still cursing, punched two hot rounds through the merc who had been engaging the other cor-sec staffer. As Samuel limped over to the main entrance and put his back against the wall, preparing to bushwhack anyone else who came through, he realized that the other staffer had been killed at some point during the exchange. Now only he and Narek remained alive on the cargo deck.

“Anybody comes through that door who ain’t our people gets a bullet!” shouted Narek as he wound up his rifle once more to prime a hot round before taking up a defensive position behind a heavy loader, giving him a clear field of fire on the entrance and the dockmaster’s platform.

Samuel couldn’t hear the comms traffic that Narek could, though he could tell that something had gone wrong on the station.

“We had three shooters try to hit us on the cargo deck, but me and the Reaper dropped ‘em, Meridian is firing up the engines now,” Narek nodded his head as he listened, and then his expression darkened, “Nah, these guys were way too heavy to ride with that little bastard, must be different outfits on the hunt.”

Narek listened again, and then his eyes snapped up to Samuel, and the marine could see the trooper tense.

“I understand, Captain,” said Narek as he stood up and walked over to Samuel, his rifle held in one arm and pointed towards the ceiling.

“What’s going on in there?” asked Samuel, trying his best not to think about his wife and son and what might have befallen them.

“It’s complicated,” growled Narek. He lashed out with his mechanical arm and drove the metal fist hard against the marine’s temple, the sheer force of the impact rendering Samuel unconscious before his body finished collapsing in a heap on the floor.