Separate Ways

Rik could see the doorway at the other end of the long hallway and pulled his blaster pistol back out to check it was ready for action. He knew the courtyard was on the other side of the door, but he could only imagine what was on the other side of the door; he did not know there was a possible ambush waiting for him but he had to assume. Upon pulling the blaster pistol out he noticed that the blood was now starting to soak right through the bandage and knew he did not have much time. With his experience, he knew he’d pass out within minutes if he didn’t do this. Failure was not an option. If he died, the Butcher came with him.

The door ahead of him was unlocked and he could see light pouring through the small glass windows in the door. He looked back behind him at the very long hallway that was lit with dim blue tinted lights. He could hear the rhythmic pounding of his footsteps on the metal floor which was broken by his slight limp from the pain in his side. His head began to heat up but he still felt cold and began to get chills from loss of blood. The skin on his arms was very pale and dizziness began to set in. Time was of the essence.

He walked through the door into the courtyard, and the dark clouded sky loomed overhead making the air cold and stale. About fifteen feet into the courtyard stood the Butcher waiting for him. As he limped closer he stopped when he noticed the courtyard was surrounded by armed men pointing rifles at him. He looked all around and knew this would be the last place he stood before he was gunned down.

“Rik Tanner. Boy, this is exciting.” The Butcher said, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. Rik put his hand over his blaster pistol preparing to draw but the Butcher seemed very confident.

“I’m actually shaking; I haven’t felt this way in a long time.” He continued.

“You took everything from me.” Rik stated.

“No, not yet.” He retorted.

Rik felt himself shaking from both blood loss and anger. His hate was at it’s peak and it felt surreal to feel such an intense whirlwind of emotions at this moment. It was time for him to focus but his eyes were filtered with red tinted glasses. This man had appeared in every nightmare, every hallucination and every time he shut his eyes, the Butcher was there for years. His entire life led up to this point and he could feel his hands shaking vigorously from the anticipation.

Rik’s eyes locked onto the Butcher’s, despite his thick black helmet. The Butcher was taken back by Rik’s glare and even though he’d been torturing this man for years he seemed to have reached his boiling point. He was passed fear. He was passed intimidation. Like the birth of a star his anger and hate was unchallenged in magnitude, and unstoppable in its force. The Butcher began to feel something he hadn’t felt in a long time; something he felt when he was a young child before he murdered both of his parents. He began to feel fear.

Both pistols began charging and as both gun’s whizzed to their full potential the Butcher’s reached first being a smaller and weaker pistol than Rik’s. He wanted the Butcher to draw first. He needed it. He wanted to steal the moment away from him like he’d stolen everything from Rik. The heat of his gun emanated off of the blaster and his side burned with agony and despite losing as much blood as he did, his adrenaline was pumping too intensely for him to pass out.

Then, as if time itself began to slow, the Butcher began to draw. Rik drew at the same moment but did not aim and did not raise his arm to shoot. The odds had always been against him, but at this moment he had never felt so alive, and lucky. The Butcher raised his arm as fast as he could and he fired a shot. It whizzed passed Rik’s head and slammed into the wall behind him letting out a crackle of lightning that echoed throughout the courtyard. Rik smiled and slowly raised his pistol aiming at the Butcher’s head, who was in shock that he had missed.

The Butcher went to fire another round but before he could take aim, Rik fired a shot right into the thick black dome that had burned itself into his mind and it shattered before him. The power from the blast knocked the Butcher onto his back and he flinched around until he was completely lifeless. He wanted to look at the man’s face, but instead he looked around at the guards who were dumbfounded that the Butcher had been killed. Regardless, they followed his last order and activated their rifles.

Rik put his blaster back in his sheath and shut his eyes waiting for absolution. For the first time in a long time, his life flashed before his eyes; his wife, child, Orion, Corvus, Sasha, all who meant something to him all appeared like a lightning fast movie reel. He hoped his wife and daughter were waiting for him, wherever they were, proud of his accomplishment in avenging their deaths. He could fight. He could run, but he had done what he’d set out to do those many years ago as he stood over his wife and daughter. He wanted to be with them, but something deep inside of his subconscious knew his wife would not want that. Rik was always a fighter, and despite the odds never completely gave up. All those times the barrel of his gun was in his mouth, he never pulled the trigger. He had a reason to be there, and it was Corvus and Sasha.

As he opened his eyes and looked up he could see a large starship ascend over the edge of the courtyard, facing toward him. He knew it wasn’t for him, as all the guards looked up and away from Rik.

“Son of a bitch.” He muttered to himself. The ship spun slightly and began firing blasts around the perimeter of the courtyard annihilating the guards who were now firing up at the ship. The balcony they all stood on began to crumble as plasma bolts slammed into the walls and supports. Rik stood up and began firing at the other guards who were now moving their attention back to him. He limped through the courtyard, dodging ion and plasma fire from the balconies surrounding him.

The box shaped starship slowly descended into the courtyard and the ramp was lowered. The ship did not land and as Vikurl hung from the frame of the ship’s entrance he held his hand out to Rik who was now running as fast as he could despite the pain in his side.

“Move your ass, Rik!” Vikurl yelled as Rik made his way toward the starship. Rik could feel his legs giving out and his energy was diminishing. The blood loss had finally gotten to him and his vision began to get blurry and fade. Vikurl could see the struggle in the man and knew Rik would never make it. About twenty feet from the ship Rik collapsed onto the floor and rolled onto his stomach, trying to pull himself toward the ship but fell limp.

Without thought, Vikurl’s instinct kicked in and he hopped off of the ramp and ran toward Rik. He slid to Rik’s side and rolled him onto his back. Rik was barely conscious and was on the precipice of death but Vikurl would not let him fall. The man who had hunted him for weeks before was dying in his arms and he’d saved him once before already, but he had a new found respect for Rik after killing the Black Butcher. Rik could have easily killed him before, despite Vikurl’s loyalty to Corvus and Sasha. Like deciding to side with Sasha, he knew the only way to gain any honour and dignity back was to turn a new leaf and do the right thing.

He hoisted Rik over his shoulder and began to run toward the starship. Most of the guards at this point had been exterminated by Corvus but the ship was still getting fired at, slowly weakening the shields. Vikurl got to the ramp and rolled Rik onto it where Sasha came out and began helping him into the ship. At that moment, a plasma bolt slammed into Vikurl’s back making him yelp.

“Vikurl!” she yelled. He winced for a moment and spun around to see a large group of guards pour into the courtyard. Looking back at Sasha he pushed Rik on board and stepped back.

“What are you doing, let’s go!” Sasha yelled. Vikurl shook his head.

“No, I’m done running.” He said. Sasha looked down at the alien she’d met under the gravest of circumstances, and oddly enough didn’t want him to leave.

“I’m a warrior Sasha, and you helped me see that; for this, I thank you.” He said. She wanted to convince him to say, but she knew his mind had been made up in that very moment.

“I die by my own accord.” He said, looking down at Rik and back up at Sasha. All these years he was afraid of running from the slave trade, knowing they would catch him and kill him or worse. He wasn’t afraid anymore. He wasn’t afraid of running, fighting or dying. Like his ancestors before him, he knew his final battle was on the horizon and accepted it with open arms. Survival wasn’t likely but the thought eased his pain, and he knew he wasn’t just fighting to gain back his honour and pride; he was fighting to protect those he’d hurt.

“Go, now!” Vikurl yelled. Corvus heard faintly from the cockpit and he spun the ship around as Sasha watched Vikurl turn toward the squad of guards aiming toward the ship and back down at him. Before he disappeared from her line of sight, he armed himself and ran full tilt toward the guards firing wildly.

As he vanished from her line of sight, she imagined that he wouldn’t last too long against the guards but she didn’t know how capable Vikurl would be in battle, and if he and Rik could break into the Butcher’s estate then they either had a vast amount of luck on their side, or a superior skill in combat; perhaps they had both. She dragged Rik into the ship, barely being able to carry his weight.

“Corvus, go now, get to a doctor!” she screamed toward the cockpit with tears in her eyes. Corvus activated his radar and searched for any nearby medical frigates in the system. There was one not too far from Sareen, but it would still take a few hours to get to.

“Can you stabilize him until I get there, at least two hours!” he yelled. Sasha was only just beginning to learn about paramedical skills, but she had to improvise. Rik was losing blood fast and she had to restrict the blood flow.

“I can.” She said, searching the cabin quickly for first aid supplies, which she eventually found in a small chest by the ramp exit.

Dragging it over to Rik, she quickly opened it and tore the old bandage off and saw that the wound was fairly large. She acted quickly by holding a rag from the crate tightly against the wound and began working. Every minute or so, she would feel his pulse to make sure he was still with them, and each time he was. Barely.

Placing a large pad on the wound that acted as a bandaid, she began to wrap it with gauze to keep it tightly over the wound. Looking back into the crate she could see a set of vials with green liquid in them. She remembered this from her captivity with the slavers, and she took one out removing the lid. Opening Rik’s mouth, she poured it in and shut his mouth while leaning his head back. Eventually, he instinctively swallowed the liquid and she leaned back to examine the bandage.

It would hold for just enough time to get him to the medical frigate but Corvus had to be quick. She stood up and sat down on a small bench across the small room from Rik and exhaled.

They had done it, somehow. She was free from the slavers and now they were both free from a prolonged death. Praying that Rik was okay after his heroics efforts, she oddly felt it appropriate to pray for Vikurl’s safety as well. He’d been part of the cause of her misfortunes but it wasn’t by choice. He was a victim of circumstance and perhaps he deserved the fate he would receive. Sasha felt he deserved a second chance. Everybody did.