And then on the Puddle Jumper's virtual screen, one Dart blip disappeared, then a second...
This couldn't be a coincidence. Especially since the locals clearly don't have anything like MANPADS or a grenade launcher to shoot down "Darts." I also didn't believe in piloting errors. So...
Literally a kilometer from me was a "Dart" that, noticing two other ships had vanished, sharply turned and headed toward the crash site. It banked such a turn that any Earth pilot in an Earth fighter would have a hard time. But on spaceships in this universe, there are inertial dampeners, so the pilot and crew don't experience overloads during maneuvers.
I had no plan on how to proceed further and still don't, but now some outlines have appeared. In particular, from the scanners, it was clear that the Wraith were pulling all their forces to the crash area. Three more blips vanished—judging by the jet trail I managed to spot, someone in the forest was clearly hunting Wraith fighters not with a bow and arrows.
The locals are far from that level... Therefore, I have only one thought about what's happening here. The Wraith are hunting someone important.
It seems the Wraith's ancestors told them too often that you can't play with food... The kids grew up into bastards cosplaying a satanic rock band. Pale skin, exposed biceps, leather clothing, greasy long hair... And they love the hunt.
Pity the good guy who became their victim, however, I can't help him. If I were a doctor, preferably a neurosurgeon... But even then—most likely not.
Maybe when I find the ZPM and risk seeing what guy became the object of the hunt. Maybe it's one famous Satedan... Unlikely. That would be monstrous luck.
But that's all later. While the Wraith are hunting their stubborn target, I have every chance to scan the surroundings. Especially since, as I managed to notice, there are no local residents left here...
***
Somewhere far to the east, a powerful explosion rang out. Jensen nearly tumbled head over heels when he heard it.
The inhabitants of Dagan, as Sudaria was now called, had no explosives—this he knew for sure. And he had expended all his reserves of anti-air rocket launchers to get rid of the impudent "Darts." Possibly, the locals had deceived him after all...
And, honestly, he hoped for that. So, ignoring fatigue, he rushed in the needed direction. Fortunately, along the way, he had a chance to grab the hidden weapon.
Man adapts to everything.
It's been three months now since Alvar Jensen adapted to being a Runner. That's what they called those the Wraith used for hunting amusement. Or to train their soldiers.
It's not exactly known, but that didn't concern him. In a Runner's life, there's only one rule—don't stop. Wherever you are, wherever you're going—the Wraith follow. There's no escaping this. No saving from this. He accepted such a life not of his own will—just unluckily survived the Hive's hunt on his planet's inhabitants. They took everyone. Only the former soldiers were left as Runners, allowing them to leave.
But first, they made it so they couldn't hide from the Wraith on any planet in this galaxy. Alvar thought he could get rid of the pursuit here. But it didn't work out.
Without slowing down, he jumped over a fallen moss-covered tree. Landing on his feet, Alvar, almost without aiming, released an arrow from the bowstring. The Wraith soldier emerging from behind a massive tree a dozen paces from the Runner took the arrow straight to the face.
The metal tip pierced the ugly mask and entered the skull. The Wraith collapsed on his back, dropping his rifle. The man didn't even look at the dead enemy's weapon—he already had one like it. Alvar immediately nocked another arrow and continued his run. Despite having firearms and even energy weapons on him, he didn't use them to avoid revealing his position.
Alvar Jensen, Runaway.
Yes, the Wraith have a way to find him in any forest, but right now they're somewhat occupied. Surely inspecting the rocket launcher tubes he discarded to figure out how he managed to down so many "Darts." Pity such valuable weapons, but otherwise the "Darts" would simply take him aboard or narrow the search area.
Now he had wandered into a dense thicket to complicate their pursuit. The Wraith tried to change the rules and take him with a "Dart," but he was ready for that. Nothing, let them run on foot—good for health.
Especially since in this forest he had set many snares and traps... Possibly it won't help, but he must figure out how to counter them.
As if in response to his thoughts, explosions of anti-personnel mines rang out, which he had scattered through the forest a few hours ago when the hunt for him had just begun. Counting the blasts, he grinned—all three went off. Good, means there are fewer enemies.
But none of the explosions compared to the one he heard earlier and was now heading toward. This could mean the explosion's creators were already dead. And the "Darts" streaking overhead didn't add confidence that everything would be fine by the time he arrived. But he had no other chances. He had only a couple of arrows left for the homemade bow. Primitive weapon, but effective when needing to save rounds for the single rifle he had left. The Wraith stunner he also had wasn't suitable for killing, only to buy time. Paralyzed enemies would rise again and continue the pursuit.
While he had a chance to stock up on weapons from his home world, it was much easier to fight back. But now... It seems the Wraith got tired of anti-personnel mines, machine guns, and explosive rounds.
His supplies were nearly exhausted, and he planned to replenish them, but it didn't work out. The only option was to dial this planet's address and try to get rid of the "tail" forever. But failure seems much more favorable to him than its opposite.
A white-blue energy bolt whistled past him, resembling a clump of water. Without looking back, the Runner began zigzagging between trees, trying to avoid hits. A Wraith stunner bolt pierces with pain in an instant and forces the muscles to relax. After that, only death follows.
His clothes were soaked with sweat, his legs burned with fire, his lungs were about to burst out, but he didn't stop running.
Only after jumping into a ravine where he had set up a position could the man catch his breath briefly.
Peeking out from cover, he saw a Wraith squad approaching him. Five, including a commander dressed in long leather garments. No other opponents were visible, but that didn't mean it would stay that way.
Pulling out the hidden automatic rifle from under the branches, he leaned against the trunk of a tree growing on the ravine's edge and aimed the weapon at the enemy. The scouts undoubtedly noticed he had stopped and decided to surround him. Possibly this tactic would work, but not today.
A short burst of powerful rounds blew the enemy squad commander's head like an overripe fruit. The soldiers immediately oriented toward the sound of shots, but he managed to shoot two more before the enemy soldiers opened fire from their stunner rifles.
But they had big problems with accuracy—all bolts hit the tree. Actually, that's why Alvar hid behind it—to minimize the hit area of his own body.
A couple of minutes were needed to finish off both pursuers. Wraith soldiers, as he had already realized, weren't distinguished by intelligence. Many recruits under his command on his home planet were much smarter.
However, he had nothing against the enemy remaining just as stupid going forward. More misses—the more chances he had to survive.
He engaged in firefights with the Wraith twice more, but couldn't achieve the previous result. The enemy began tightening the "noose" around him, so the only thing left was to run.
And hope that ahead, at the explosion site, there would be those who could help him deal with the enemy. Too much hope on strangers, but such is life.
Possibly, of course, the Wraith would give him a chance to rest and recover— they had done that a couple of times when he killed a large number of them. But if there's someone else on the planet threatening them, unlikely they'd take a pause.
Lost in his thoughts, he burst out of the forest onto a spacious clearing. Looking around, he realized there were no Wraith here.
But there was a huge hole in the clearing's center, which undoubtedly led somewhere into a dungeon.
"I hope there are tunnels there," the Runner muttered.
The Wraith scanner, with which they tracked his movements, didn't have the ability to navigate roads. Therefore, he had managed a couple of times on other planets to lure the Wraith into a swamp. Once more, he led them into catacombs and escaped, shaking off pursuers lost in the stone labyrinth. But then there wasn't a Hive ship hanging over the planet...
Wraith shots flashed nearby again. The pursuing squad was about fifty meters away and firing more at random than with real hope of hitting the target.
There's a chance to break away.
The Runner tore the last remaining smoke grenade from his belt and tossed it behind him. He had ten seconds in reserve while the Wraith overcame the obstacle. They'd surely decide to wait it out, as in the past he had used smoke to spring various traps on them.
And he would have time to escape into the pit and get lost in the catacombs.
Realizing that on open ground he was an excellent target, Alvar still rushed across the clearing. Firing on the move, he estimated that only a few enemy fighters were pursuing him—one squad. But the others were clearly nearby.
A few meters short of the pit, the former soldier noticed that it wasn't a detonation site but traces of a projectile that slammed into the ground, plowed some distance, and only then detonated. And this trace was a trench in the earth down which one could descend into the dungeon without fear of injury.
A lucky find.
Already running up to the trench, Alvar saw a man emerging from underground. A young man, military-short haircut, twenty-thirty years old. And suspiciously clean-dressed for someone crawling on all fours through the earth. Light clothing that caught the eye, unfamiliar cut that seemed suspicious to him. The guy was clutching to his chest some thing glowing with yellow light, and in the other hand held a strange-looking weapon. And he was rapidly looking around, as if seeing something suspicious...
But nothing more suspicious than the piercing sound that made his ears hurt when the "Dart" went into a dive.
"There's nothing here!" the Runner shouted to the stranger, realizing he was disoriented by the Wraith's mental attacks. If you're not used to it, it seems like swift shadows, rustles around... That's how the Wraith confuse their victims. "It's all an illusion!"
The guy looked at him, aiming his weapon.
And the Runner already knew what would happen next.
Without stopping, he dropped to one knee, aiming the rifle at the spot where the Wraith harvesting beam touched the ground.
"Stay where you are!" the stranger shouted at him.
"Out of the way, fool!" Alvar replied, scanning for the "Dart." The man saw it too.
Raising his pistol, he fired several times at the Wraith fighter's side when it descended for its dark deed. The machine evaded two energy bolts—mostly due to the shooter's poor accuracy, but the third hit it in the nose section.
The "Dart" screeched louder, thick black smoke billowing from the breached hull. A hit after which it definitely wouldn't return to service.
However, it was already too late.
The transparent, resembling a water surface pierced by bright light rays, Wraith harvesting beam plowed the area next to them, to the left of the stranger.
Wraith harvesting beam.
But its goal wasn't to harvest both men, but, on the contrary, to drop off a Wraith squad.
The leader fired his stunner at the stranger, but Alvar had already opened fire, taking advantage of the hesitation. With one burst, he took down two enemy soldiers closest to him. The squad commander and two other enemy soldiers aimed their weapons at him...
And at that very moment, the stranger, who had fallen to the ground after the shot, unexpectedly rose, went to one knee, and raised his weapon, directing it at the Wraith. Only their commander reacted in time, retargeting the sudden threat.
His stunner fired, but didn't harm the man—the white-blue bolt splashed against an illusory green haze surrounding the man. The return shot blew off the Wraith's skull.
Alvar shot another soldier as the stranger finished the second.
"You have a shield!" Jensen realized, approaching the young man.
The latter, squinting, shook his head.
"But it looks just like it!"
"I don't understand," the Runner tensed, looking at the stranger.
"Everyone has their flaws," the latter replied, aiming the weapon at him. The soldier, not expecting this, reacted a fraction of a second after a bright blue energy bolt leaped from the angular crystal in the front of the stranger's weapon.
Alvar didn't have time to think that he was about to die before he heard a nasty sound slightly behind him—the same as from the stranger's shot that killed a Wraith a couple of seconds ago. Turning, he saw the commander of his pursuing squad falling to the ground, with a hole the size of a human head in his chest.
But his soldiers, left without a commander, opened indiscriminate fire. Fifteen meters separated them; they had just emerged from the forest. It seems the commander decided to sneak up and take the Runner's life, so he hadn't fired. And the soldiers were supposed to cover him...
Overconfidence.
Together with the stranger, Alvar dealt with the enemies in a couple of seconds. The guy, though he hit one in three, but his protection allowed him to stand under enemy fire and ignore hits. And with the power of his weapon... Whether a hit to the arm, leg, or head—the holes in the Wraith bodies were such that no regeneration would help them.
But, just in case, Alvar put two rounds into each of their heads.
"We need to leave," he said to the stranger, who was picking up from the grass a golden thing resembling a large crystal.
There was no time to get acquainted—the Runner had used it profitably, swapping the empty magazine for a loaded one. The penultimate magazine, by the way.
"Completely agree," the stranger spoke with an unknown accent. Roughly, but enough to understand him.
"We'll get lost in the catacombs you crawled out of," Alvar pointed to the hole in the ground and took a step toward it.
But the guy grabbed his arm, causing a greenish haze of the personal shield to shimmer around the stranger again. And the hairs on the Runner's arm stood on end, reacting to the proximity of energy.
"I have a better idea," the stranger said, nodding his head, inviting him to follow. After which, without further explanation, he silently strode across the clearing. "Come with me if you want to live."
Hearing the howl of "Darts," Jensen wanted to warn the guy that they needed to get away quickly, not on a stroll, after all. But what he saw made him swallow the unspoken words.
The stranger, taking another step, literally dissolved into thin air.
"What a thing," Alvar said with a shade of admiration, grinning, and ran after him. Maybe this is that very chance he hadn't even dared to think of⁈
Exactly where the stranger vanished, he took a step... And saw before him the dark-green hull of a clearly human-built ship. The rear wall was open, and working engines were visible on the sides, flickering with even white light.
"Surprise on surprise," the man whistled.
"If you're not in a hurry anywhere, you can stay," the stranger offered, taking a seat in the part of the ship that was clearly the cockpit. "Less hassle for me. And so chivalry won't lead to good..."
Without thinking, Jensen boarded the ship and plopped into the seat next to the stranger. Behind, with a quiet sound of actuators working, the entry hatch closed. The guy in the adjacent seat grabbed the awkward-looking control yoke grips, and the ship shot upward, rocketing away from their meeting place.
Though surprised by the technology's quality, Alvar didn't show it. But he simply couldn't refrain from examining the magnificent ship from the inside. This design and patterns reminded him of something...
A glowing image appeared in front of the cockpit glass, showing a schematic of their ship. And a blinking red dot at the spot where he sat. But he couldn't make out the multitude of symbols next to it.
"It didn't work," the stranger pronounced.
"What are you talking about?" Alvar asked, but deep down already understood what the conversation would be about.
"The transmitter the Wraith implanted in you," the pilot said. "The cloaking field doesn't jam its signal. But it was worth trying."
"Got any ideas on what to do next?" the Runner asked. So far, he had no ideas how the ship and its pilot could help, but he wasn't used to dropping his hands. It simply couldn't be that the owner of such a ship, such technologies, had no ideas on how to shake off the Wraith tail!
"Misha," without tearing away from the controls, the guy extended his right hand. Alvar didn't marvel that he used the greeting gesture only now and responded as proper.
"Alvar," he introduced himself, deciding that the former stranger had given him his name. "Your idea—to get acquainted? Couldn't think of anything better?"
The screen changed, now showing a huge number of red dots approaching their ship from all sides.
"Got to start somewhere," the new acquaintance sighed.
***
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