Kill Streak: A Sci-Fi LitRPG by Curator Omega

Author:Curator Omega [Omega, Curator]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Podium Publishing
Published: 2022-08-22T16:00:00+00:00

21

We flew for the majority of the day, touching down in gullies and former blasting pits whenever Modri detected another ship’s presence on the radar. It was an effective strategy, if one that left me a tad confused. We were flying in a high-end, stolen vehicle that rolled out of the factory with a host of tracking chips, and not a single enemy ship seemed capable of detecting our presence. Why would Chanzig, a former Hegemony intelligence operative himself, be so careless as to disable these features within his fleet?

Modri had assured me that there was no such mechanism in our gunship—none that he could detect, anyhow—but I still didn’t quite trust it. Chanzig had total authority over his world: surveillance grids, gene-sniffing checkpoints, surface-to-air missile grids . . . if someone coughed halfway around the planet, he’d know about it within an hour. It shouldn’t have been so easy to make our getaway and continue roaming the surface. Especially not in such a pricy ride.

As it turned out, there was a reason for this. A reason I would soon discover.

In the meantime, we had a plan that seemed feasible, at least at first glance. We would fly to the outskirts of Chanzig’s megacity, ditch the gunship, and hitch a ride on one of the many trams that shuttled laborers to and from the field refineries. I wasn’t too informed in this area, but Akasha spoke with confidence about the operation. Seeing as she had far more experience with Chanzig that I did, I was inclined to trust her.

The plan reassured me somewhat as we drew closer to the megacity. It loomed on the horizon like a mirage, all skyscrapers and swarms of aerial traffic. True to Akasha’s description, hundreds of tram lines snaked out of the urban center in every direction. From this distance, the whole affair reminded me of a gangrenous tumor surrounded by infected veins.

Modri flew low and fast over the gamma-irradiated flats, reasonably sure that this would cloak us from Chanzig’s scans. For all his failings as an interstellar pilot, he was an impressive gunship operator. I was tempted to ask how he’d acquired such experience, but I resisted—the last thing I needed (or wanted) was another tale about the “good old days” of exterminating local populations.

“So, what about disguises?” I asked Akasha, who sat in the copilot’s chair and studied the megacity with her eyeless vision. “I’m not judging, but you’re wearing a pretty recognizable outfit.”

She looked over. “I could say the same to you.”

“Hey, at least I’m impersonating someone on Chanzig’s side. You’re an escaped fugitive.”

“We can procure disguises easily in the outer districts,” Akasha said. “The laborers all wear simple, baggy garb. If you trade them one of your weapons, they will be more than satisfied with the exchange.”

“That, or they’ll turn us over to the local enforcers for an extra ration ticket.”

Akasha gave a thin smile. “We are not the only miscreants on this world, Dak. The city’s underbelly is a dark, devouring place, filled to the brim with those who have been cast out of Chanzig’s higher society.

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