Stryker hated distress calls.
“You need to watch the ship,” he told Matt again as he pulled out a bag and started to fill it with survival supplies.
First aid. Needles. Synthesized medication.
“Stryker…” Matt watched him, wide eyed. “I can’t pilot a ship. Why aren't we landing?”
Rope. Water. Rations.
“No time.” Stryker turned to his weapons and shoved several boxes of ammo into the duffle.
“You’re freaking me out, man.” Matt took out one of his many flasks and gulped it down. “Never seen you like this before. The EPED got you good with this one.” He peered into the open bag.
Cleaning cloths. Ponchos. Compass.
“Distress call,” Stryker mumbled, looking around the space, hoping he wasn’t forgetting anything crucial. He equipped his Cyborg armor, built from his nanocells, and attached his knives. He picked up his plasmic sniper rifle and threw it over his shoulder.
Emergency blanket. Purification powder. Time was ticking.
“Since when do we answer distress calls?”
“Since now.”
Stryker belted his guns and extra knives over his biceps and thighs.
Based on the signal, he knew he was dealing with more than the weather. He had enough firepower to take on the world in his ship. He packed enough to take out a garrison, enough to take down several Wieraptors. He pressed his death-dealer magnum against his forehead, loaded with pryzian bullets, and whispered a prayer to his lover, Lady Luck.
He turned to Matt. “Am I missing anything?”
His thoughts were scattered.
He couldn’t fathom an intellectual reason why, only that he needed his second-in-command to verify for him; Stryker wouldn’t be the first Cyborg to think himself infallible.
Matt pulled open the duffle and eyed it with a glazed look. “How long you plan to be out there?”
“No idea, a day at least.”
He humphed. “A day is too long without one of these…” Matt dropped in a flask, a second one stored under the lapels of his jacket. Stryker’s lips lifted under his mask despite the urgency.
He threw the pack over his shoulders and headed to his flyer, Matt in tow.
It turned on as he approached it.
“Keep the systems running. If I’m not back within the next two days, put the ship on auto-pilot and it will take you to Ghost. The other Cyborgs will help you from there.” He entered the small aircraft, just big enough for four people comfortably and enough fuel to land on a nearby planet if something should ever happen to his ship.
“Still don’t know how to fly a ship,” Matt grumbled. “Please keep forgetting that small detail.”
“Manual’s under the console.” He flipped the controls on as the emergency hatch lifted open. An ocean of bruised clouds appeared just below them. The sounds of destruction bellowed violently now that there was no barrier betweenthemandit. His pulse fluttered with misgivings. He turned to close the door.
“Stryker…”
“What?”
“Be careful, man, it looks like the devil’s beating his daughter out there.”
I’m coming, Norah Lee.
He flew into the roiling surge.
