Rise the Renegade (Rork Sollix Book 1) Read online

  Rise the Renegade

  Revenge and the girl — he can’t have both

  George Donnelly

  BOOK 1 IN THE RORK SOLLIX SERIES

  RISE THE RENEGADE

  The golden age of freedom withers across the Solar System as independent colonies fall under the dominion of Barbary and Sons, a ruthless cartel run by a 24th century cross between Genghis Khan and the CEO of Walmart.

  One man rises in opposition. Rork Sollix raids Barbary's cargo ships for fun and profit, along with his lovestruck teenage servant Lala Fevari and his ragtag crew.

  Just days from death, betrayed by his own men and on the run, Rork tries to safeguard Lala on Earth. But Barbary kidnaps her, throws Rork in a bleak Delhi prison and aims to make the young girl pay for Rork's crimes.

  RISE THE RENEGADE

  Copyright 2016 George Donnelly

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN-10: 1941939066

  ISBN-13: 9781941939062

  Cover design by Rebecca Frank

  The author greatly appreciates you taking the time to read his work. Please consider leaving a review wherever you bought the book or telling your friends about it to help spread the word.

  WANT TO GET THE SECOND BOOK IN THE RORK SOLLIX SERIES FOR FREE?

  If you liked Rise the Renegade, you’ll LOVE Rage the Renegade, the second book in the Rork Sollix series.

  CLICK THE LINK AND CLAIM YOUR BOOK, FREE.

  CLICK THIS LINK NOW

  Thank you for reading!

  George Donnelly

  Contents

  1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15 / 16 / 17 / 18 / 19 / 20 / 21 / 22 / 23 / 24 / 25 / 26 / 27 / 28 / 29 / 30 / 31 / 32 / 33 / 34 / 35 / 36 / 37 / 38 / 39 / 40 / 41 / 42 / 43 / 44 / 45 / 46 / 47 / Epilogue

  To my son, Clark, who insists every morning — despite my objections — that I deserve the Dad of the Year award.

  1

  “THEY’RE HERE!”

  Pulse blasts landed at their backs. Rork grabbed Lala’s petite hand and they ran down the corridor. Icy sweat poured from his forehead and stung his eyes. They turned a corner and pressed their backs against the cold metal wall. There was the hatch. On the other side of its bulbous window was dark, empty space.

  And they didn’t have their space suits on.

  Another spasm hit him, like an overcharged wire that ran through his body from head to toe. He coughed and fell to his knees.

  This was just the beginning of the disease. And the end.

  Lala bent down and rubbed his back. Her hands were cool and utterly smooth. The pain eased. They had to recapture the bridge, his bridge.

  A sharp click sounded down the corridor. Rork stood up fast, reached for Lala, stumbled and fell to his knees again.

  “They’re here!” Klambert yelled again. All three traitors chased them now.

  Rork and Lala ran, unsure which of them was supporting or pulling the other.

  “Come on!” Klambert yelled. Pulse blasts echoed down the corridor.

  Rork crashed into the wall at the end of the narrow hallway. It made a clipped thundering sound as the thin metal absorbed the impact of his torso and bounced back into form. He twisted his body and stretched out his arms to cushion Lala’s impact.

  Her cyan mane curved over the top of her head and down the right side, ending at her neck in a neat row of subdued curls. The left side of her head was clean-shaven.

  Her face was thin, nearly gaunt but patches of baby fat still clustered around her green eyes. It gave her the appearance of an uppity tweenager who didn’t understand the world but had strong ideas about how it should work.

  Rork caught her lanky body in his arms as she bounced off the wall. He felt her breasts against his chest and the warmth of her core against his own.

  It was take the bridge or die in space. And they had to do it now.

  Smoking holes opened up on the wall behind them. The noxious stench of burnt metal and plastic tickled Rork’s nose. He slammed his hand over Lala’s mouth.

  “Don’t breathe it, it’s toxic.” Too late. His head swam and his chest hurt.

  Lala smacked his hand away and pushed past him.

  Rork chased after her. “Take a right and then—”

  “I know!”

  Rork watched her hips rise and fall. The pink long underwear wrinkled and stretched as her legs flew high and fast towards the next turn. Jupiter, she is gorgeous.

  Pitch black. Rork stopped and Lala skidded to a halt ahead of him. They were lost and out of time. Their pursuers were silent.

  Rork put his hands out ahead of him and walked at a steady clip. He wrapped his left arm around Lala’s as he passed her. He hit hot metal and pulled back, his index finger screaming. They took a hard right turn, then hung a sharp left.

  “Do you see it?” she whispered.

  Rork stopped. “What?”

  Lala pulled him forward. “There’s a light ahead. It’s the bridge.”

  Rork squinted. “That’s not the bridge.” He coughed and the charge clawed at his insides again. He needed his meds, bad.

  “Come on!” She ran.

  He chased. “This isn’t right. This isn’t the bridge.” He turned. “It’s this way!” He grabbed her and she resisted.

  A burst of air blew Rork’s hair back. Bright white light bored into his skull. He covered his eyes.

  A scratching sound came over the ship’s intercom, too loud. Rork took his hands from his eyes and jammed them onto his ears. Lala cried out.

  “Well, Captain, any final words?” the intercom voice asked.

  Rork found the camera, angled his chin up at it and stared straight into the lens. “You’re fools! Especially you, Thryk!”

  “Um, Rork…” Lala said.

  A sharp fingernail scratched at the back of his neck. He swatted it away. “I’m your golden goose, boys! I found you. I keep you safe from Barbary! I keep us together. Have you lost your minds?”

  She smacked him hard on the shoulder.

  “Lala, please!” His eyes adjusted to the light. They were in the airlock — the last place he wanted to be. “Cowards, too? Flush us out into space and be done with it? That was Klambert’s idiotic idea, wasn’t it?”

  The scratchy intercom sounded again and Glagnon cleared his throat.

  After I take this ship back, I’m getting that fixed.

  “We’re going to let you die a natural death, Captain. Then we’ll swing back around in a week for your girl. That’s how long Doc Vogg gave you, right?” Glagnon chuckled.

  “I’ll rip your throat out and shove it where the stars don’t shine!” Lala stepped closer to the camera and made a rude gesture.

  “Your Captain-my-Captain has lost his edge, dearie,” Glagnon said. “Too much revenge, not enough profit. We need money. And women!”

  Rork shook his head and doubled over in another seizure. The lights brightened and everything went blurry. His world went silent.

  I’m a dead man. But he can’t have Lala. She deserves better.

  Glagnon’s chuckle broke through the seizure. “I’ve got a comfy mining station picked out for you. Take your time. Die. Consider it your retirement, a little vacation with your lady, before the end. If Barbary doesn’t get there first, of course.”

  Rork pulled himself up onto one knee and looked up at the camera. The ship rocked under him. He flew back against the hatch and fell to the floor again. He opened his mouth to breathe. His lungs refused to resp
ond. Next to him, Lala lay unconscious.

  The airlock door screeched open. Fresh air flowed in. Thryk’s overworn boot thudded on the metal floor.

  Rork looked up at him. You’re losing your ship! You coward! You weakling! Get the hell up already!

  Thryk grinned at him through a transparent respirator. He dug his oily fingers in under the back of his former captain’s collar. “‘Thryk’s too dense to do anything other than clean the engine.’ ‘Thryk-headed.’ ‘Thryk, scrub the toilets.’ ‘Thryk, dump the trash.’ Now I really am dumping the trash.”

  Rork kicked and Thryk jerked him higher. Rork reached for the wall, the floor and Thryk’s stained clothes but they were all too far away.

  With his free hand, the mechanic twirled the rust-eaten wheel on the hatch. It opened with a pop and Rork sensed the stale odor of engines and metal.

  “In you go!” Thryk said.

  Rork floated backwards down the hatch tube. He grabbed at the wall but it was too smooth and he was moving too fast. He turned his head. There was the large, spoked wheel of the interior hatch. The back of his head impacted it. The pain spread like electricity.

  Rork bounced off of the hatch and into the wall. He twisted and launched himself back at the hatch wheel, his arms ahead of him and his legs behind him as if he were swimming underwater.

  His left index finger reached it first. Rork wrapped it around the top of the metal ring and the other fingers followed. He pulled himself into a standing position. He checked the gauge. The pressure on the other side of the door was a little light but it would do. He pulled on the wheel. It wouldn’t come. Something was wrong. And where was Lala?

  A light ruffling sounded behind him. He turned. Lala’s unconscious body zoomed down the corridor, feet first. The impact forced Rork’s head back against the hatch door.

  “Son of a bitch!”

  The hatch at the other end clicked shut. That was his lucky MORF-9 spaceship. He’d bought it — honest — after recovering from what Barbary and Sons did, those bastards. The thin corridor tubing rumbled around him.

  His ship was powering up, without him at the helm. It would break away from this godforsaken mining outpost. He and the love of his life would be left floating in a vacuum. Unless he got the mining station’s hatch wheel to budge. Now.

  He pulled at the wheel again. It clicked but did not move. Something snapped and a wind pulled at the back of his neck.

  2

  “HURRY UP, Rork, before you die!”

  Glagnon’s laughter garbled in his ear as the atmosphere seeped out of the mining station’s thin, accordion-like connecting tube.

  Rork grabbed at the locking wheel in his right hand and turned it again. Again the click. There’s a lock somewhere.

  Lala’s unconscious body floated away from him as the vacuum of space increased its pull. Rork grabbed her and maneuvered her between his body and the hatch door, her face to his, his legs wrapped around hers.

  His hands now freed, he searched the hatch door for a lever or some other way to unlock it. He pulled the locking wheel hard to the right, again and again. Each time it clicked. Each time it refused to grant them refuge.

  “Time’s up, Rorky!” Glagnon said through the mining ship’s intercom. “Death will come a bit sooner than you thought. Tough luck about not getting your revenge on Old Man Barbary. We’ll hit him from time to time and think of you. Goodbye and good riddance! Right, guys?”

  “What about Lala?” Rork screamed. “Don’t you want her? She’s still alive!”

  The rumbling stopped. The wind from the escaping air slowed.

  Rork smacked Lala gently on the cheek. “Wake up. I need you to wake up.”

  Glagnon answered, “There are plenty of fish in the sea, Captain.”

  The rumbling started again. Icy wind pulled at the back of his neck and Lala slipped away. Rork grabbed her. He tried the locking wheel. Again the click. “Damnit!” Rork knew he had yelled but there was no sound.

  He pulled the wheel towards him in a fit of rage. It rotated away from the wall to reveal a compartment with a red button. Underneath, the words ‘Emergency Release’ stared up at him in curved red lettering with the Chinese characters below it.

  The wind pulled harder at Rork now but the rumbling diminished. He hit the red button. A dull thud sounded far away. He pushed the wheel back into place. It clicked. He turned the wheel and the door exploded open with a rush of warm, wet air.

  Rork hung horizontally from the open hatch, the wind pushing him away. Lala hung below him, her left hand slipping from his grasp, his fingers on hers. Rork arched his fingers up and his arm back to regain his grip on her. She loved him for who he was. He wouldn’t lose her now. They’d made it too far.

  The pressure of the wind eased. His body sagged. He pulled Lala past him and guided her towards the open hatch. He opened his mouth to breathe but precious little air came. He exhaled and pulled himself inside the mining station. He closed the hatch behind him and turned the inside wheel.

  A dark circle closed in around him and his chest ached. He held his mouth open and ran his hand across the control panel next to the hatch. The inner bulkhead behind them slid open and air rushed in again.

  Rork took a deep breath and coughed. He walked on his knees over to Lala and smacked her face. She screamed in a breath and sat straight up, her emerald eyes wide. She coughed, tried to stand up and sat back down.

  “What happened?”

  “Glagnon almost killed us.” He felt the station pitch under them and looked out the window. Shreds of the white accordion floated against the black of space. The rear fusion motors of his MORF-9 burned bright in the distance. The other end of the corridor hung from the rear hatch between the dual engines. “Idiots. Joyriding popheads! They’re going to damage my baby!”

  Lala knee-walked to the hatch window and pushed Rork out of the way. She stared without saying anything. She looked at him, her eyes wide and her face slack. “I thought I was your baby.”

  Rork bit down hard on the knuckle of his index finger. “They’ll retreat to a reasonable distance and party. Or they might have a job. And get killed and someone will seize or blow up my baby.”

  Lala turned and slumped down next to the hatch. “I’m your baby!”

  Rork edged his eyes in her direction and grinned. “Come over here.” He held his arms out to her and the pain came again. His lungs clenched and his lips pulled back to expose tightly gritted teeth. Bones popped and cracked. Every muscle seized up.

  Lala threw herself next to him and massaged his chest and shoulders. “Hold on, baby, just hold on.”

  A low, guttural moan escaped his throat. The tension eased. He collapsed forward. “Never should have run those supplies to Isotania. Never should’ve done it. Always try Port Vantage first! Your master is an idiot.”

  She rubbed her smooth palm against his cheek and silenced him.

  The gentle warmth of her hand relaxed him. He closed his eyes. “And now you have to die.”

  She retracted her hand.

  “They planned this. They scouted this place out. I know where we are,” Rork said. “Ceres 476 Mining Colony, Franklin Realm. Abandoned. I smashed the radios myself three weeks ago. There’s not much around here anyway.”

  Lala pushed air onto her face. “But it’s warm, fresh, wet.”

  “Always off in your head, girl. I told you about this place. I fixed life support and just left it running.”

  “What do you mean, I have to die?” She stood up and glared at him.

  “I have days, maybe a week, then—”

  “Shut up! You’re not going to die! Stop feeling sorry for yourself!” A look of disgust crossed her face. She walked toward the bulkhead door. Beyond it a circular hallway curved away from them. “What’s down there?”

  “They’ll come back for you. After I’m dead.”

  “Which way’s the mess?” She pointed right, then left and looked back at him. “Well?”

  “Left.”
He pulled himself up and ambled after her.

  The hallway was finished in a creamy white matte. Thin light panels ran the length of the corridor three-quarters of the way up the wall. The space was otherwise without ornament. The lights flickered as if they might fail at any moment.

  “This is old.” She reached a door and moved her hand to the black switch next to it.

  “No!” he said.

  She retracted her hand and moved along. “Are we just going in a circle?”

  “Of course not. Well, sort of. Three more doors on the right is the mess.”

  She stopped and waited for him to catch up. As he passed her, she reached for his hand and interlocked her fingers with his.

  Rork studied her face. Her eyes probed his. Her cheeks tensed and twitched. She exuded a nervous fear. She was so precious. He pulled her closer and put his arm around her. “I don’t want them to take you.”

  She pushed him away and he bumped into the wall. She continued walking, then stopped, turned around and fixed him with sharp, flat eyes. “You still treat me like a little girl. We’re going to make it through—”

  “You take nothing seriously. You think nothing matters. But it all matters! And it’s all very serious, Lala! They will use you and sell you off to even worse people!” He lowered his voice to a rasping whisper. “I will kill you myself, right now, to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

  Lala strode toward him and smacked her master hard across the face. “You don’t get to decide that.” She exhaled, adjusted her blouse and looked around. “Which one of these has a bed? I want you now. We’ve waited long enough.” Her face glowed hot pink and she fanned herself.