The Scarman Enigma

[|Scarecrow|]

Starwood Hotel, Landing Platform Terminal, Floor 75

The landing platform terminal had the feeling of a spaceport concourse; expansive and spread-out, a sandwich of open space between the penthouse suites above and the Centre for Commerce below. The building’s central core was still present, as with every level, housing the elevator shafts, staircases, and several other core rooms filled with matters strictly of staff business. However, beyond that, the entire floor was wide-open. From almost every direction, the building’s outer glass cap was visible, as well as the impressive views of the city beyond. Thick supporting pillars were placed at key intervals, each sharing the weight of the remaining levels above. Overhead, the ceiling was a mismatched lattice of different shapes; the undersides of the floors of the lowest penthouse suites. Some had glass floors, allowing the guests inside to enjoy the social buzz of the terminal as if it were a reality show.

Scattered throughout the main concourse were various stalls, kiosks, and small cafés, bars, and restaurants. Some of the cafés and bars were open-air within the terminal; clustered gatherings of chairs and tables, targeting the fast market of busy city-dwellers and those who hadn’t the time to pause and take in the view. Others were enclosed in light translucent fabric or plastic bubbles or tents, each with varied decor and exotic potted plants. A large ring-shaped supermarket surrounded the central core, offering a luxurious range of foodstuffs and other supplies. This level was the entry point for the supremely wealthy and the highly important; guests of the penthouses and VIPs attending talks and seminars at the Centre for Commerce. On any normal day, the landing platform terminal would have been a bustling hive of activity. However, today, due to the Black Flag takeover, the place was completely empty.

In the opposite direction to the core, around the outer edge, were a series of equidistantly placed check-in desks and small Anti-Grav ferry terminals. These were the access points for the floating landing platforms that orbited the upper floors of the Starwood tower. The small ferries could only hold around ten people, but under normal circumstances were regular enough, and would shuttle guests too and from the landing platforms on demand. The ferries were the fixation of Sayne Jadyn as he rapidly made his way to the terminal. Taking one of them would be his ticket to freedom.

Sayne dragged Heather Scarman up the final staircase and out through the double doors, into a small landing area adjacent to the elevators. He towed the young girl along the corridor and was soon out into the expanse of the seventy-fifth floor, entering the heart of the supermarket. Aside from a handful of Black Flag pirates in temporary emplacements, the humongous space was eerily still. Several pairs of eyes turned to him, but not a single pirate dared cross his path as he stormed through the small shop. The Scarman girl was tugging back on his arm, a sudden surge of determination rising within her.
Perhaps her fear had abated because she was no longer with the Tyrant, Sayne mused to himself as he looked down at her.
“Let me go!” She was in the process of yelling, “Let me go!”
Sayne tightened his grip around her arm and shook her, narrowed his eyes. “That’s enough!”
Heather closed her mouth and looked down, the hint of a bottom lip protruding from beneath her frown. Sayne could see that her eyes had welled up once more. By now, the skin around her cheeks and nose was raw from all the tears.

In truth, Jadyn had no intention of harming the girl. She was simply a bargaining chip; a tool to lure Scarecrow to him. Jadyn even felt a pang of guilt as he tightened his grip around her wrist once more. His mind flashed back to his youth… his Uncle…
Young Heather Scarman was now his only hope of taking Scarecrow cleanly away from his allies. An even fight. That was all he could hope for now.
If I can get Scarecrow- alone… That’s all I need.
It was a bluff, and a delicate one at that. But he no longer had any choice in the matter. Tyrant Scarman’s actions had led to the complete destabilisation of their original plan. Scarecrow and Merlow were inside the building, Jadyn knew. It wouldn’t be long until their paths crossed. There was no longer any time to lure them into the trap that had been set. Jadyn knew the Tyrant to be unstable, but he had not foreseen just how much the presence of the soldier woman, Victoria Wade, would have thrown the leader of the Black Flag Corsairs off his game. He needed to escape with the girl, and quickly. If he ran into the Freedom Fighters now, he’d have little hope of getting away. The scattered pirates wouldn’t be much help. Their strength as a fighting force had now peaked, Jadyn was certain.

As Sayne pressed through the supermarket and out into the main concourse, a loud clatter to his left drew his attention. At a small café island, a group of tables and chairs had been knocked aside as a figure floundered through them. It was Victoria Wade, weary, bruised, and bloodied, her hands still bound. She looked exhausted, intense fatigue evident in the way she was carrying herself. Her adrenaline had subsided, and she was now running on fumes. She took several steps toward Sayne, her bound hands raised.
“Please…” Her voice was hoarse, almost a whisper. The paled skin of her face was almost completely covered in dried blood and violent purple bruising, and her mop of strawberry blonde hair was matted and stained dark. Her combat fatigues were now lop-sided and ill fitting; cut to ribbons by the Tyrant’s knife attacks. Beneath the blood-stained cotton, Victoria’s body was covered in deep slashing wounds. Some had clotted and dried, whilst others still bled openly. Sayne noticed that she was leaving boot prints of fresh crimson on the ceramic floor tiles, and that she had the Tyrant’s combat knife still embedded deep in her shoulder.

“Please…” Wade repeated, dropping to her knees in front of Jadyn. “Get her to safety.”
Sayne looked down at Heather, who was staring at Wade, utterly horrified by the sight of her.
“Get her out of here,” Victoria croaked, “Or let her go and take me instead. She doesn’t deserve to be in the middle of all this.”
Sayne looked back at Victoria for a handful of seconds before he replied.
“I’m sorry,” He spoke softly. “I need a live captive. I doubt you’ll see out the next ten minutes.”
Victoria sank down, coming to rest on her ankles. Her expression was one of complete despair as a flood of tears poured from her eyes and melted through the blood on her cheeks. She let her head roll forward, breaking eye contact with Sayne.

“What about me,” The voice came from behind them. “I’ve got more than ten minutes. I think.”
Jadyn turned to see Scarecrow’s friend, the bounty hunter Kurt Manning. He glanced down at Manning’s left leg, which was bloodied and bound by a torniquet made from a leather belt.
“Persistent, aren’t you.” Sayne gritted his teeth as he turned to face the bounty hunter. A faint red glow had started to build behind his eyes. “You sure about that?”
“Pretty sure…” Manning replied. He couldn’t hide the uncertainty in his voice as he noticed the shifting colour in Sayne’s eyes.
“The eyes? It’s just my implants,” Sayne said darkly as he started to slowly walk away from Manning, toward Victoria. “The implants your buddies Marcus and Robert gave me, all those years ago. They help me focus, shed any distracting emotional elements when I need them to… The eyes are just a small side effect of the sensory dulling…”
Sayne continued walking, towing Heather Scarman with his left arm and resting his right on the butt of his holstered blaster pistol. The appearance of the bounty hunter was a grave concern. He had the power to hold Sayne up enough to allow Scarecrow, Merlow, or one of the others to catch up to them. Sayne had to keep Manning distracted and at an arm’s length. Or dispose of him quickly.
“Of course, I’m speaking figuratively.” He continued, “The implants were an experimental effort concocted by the First Fleet’s finest during the war with the Bretonian Empire, in our native dimension. A desperate effort to change the direction of the fight on the ground. I was special. I was chosen.”
Sayne came to a stop when the still prone Victoria was squarely between him and the bounty hunter.
“I was one of Liberty’s most dangerous weapons…” He narrowed his eyes, bitter at the memory. “For about five minutes, until they wiped out my unit and threw me to the wolves.”
Sayne closed his eyes and took a breath. Remembering was difficult, even now, after so many years had passed.
Soon he would have his revenge. Soon, he could rest.
“Don’t try anything foolish.” He concluded, pulling Heather around in front of him and slowly unholstering the blaster. “It’d be a shame if anyone here was to get hurt…”

Manning licked his lips, his eyes moving steadily from Sayne, to the girl, and to Victoria. Despite her sorry state, Wade was watching him intently. His appearance had spun the faintest thread of hope within her. Manning scowled. He didn’t like the odds. Sayne had the distance; Manning’s shotgun would be no effect at such a range, or at the very least there would be a high risk of collateral damage with the weapon’s high spread. Manning made a slight move to his right, trying to open a clear line between himself and Sayne, free of Victoria. But Sayne lifted his blaster and put it against Heather Scarman’s head.
“Ah, ah,” He chided, his expression deadly serious. “I don’t think so.”
Sayne started to slowly walk backwards, facing Manning all the while. Behind him, Kurt could see one of the ferry terminals, only a few metres away.
I can’t let him get away! Not again!
Kurt’s mind raced. If Sayne made it to the ferry, he’d be out onto one of the landing platforms in no time. He looked around him, frantically searching for anything that might give him the initiative.

Ultimately his decision was made for him. A shrieking call rent the air from back in the direction of the central shaft, taking them all by surprise.
“Victoria!?” It was Scarecrow’s voice, but it was strained. Cracked.
Manning turned half-way to look, but it dawned on him before he could see. Tyrant Scarman entered the terminal from the direction of the elevators, bellowing at the top of his lungs.
“Victoria! You can’t escape me! You’re mine! You hear me!? You’re mine!”
Victoria instinctively flinched, hunkering down even more in the wake of the screeching call. Then, a new determination took her, and she shifted her body weight and tried to stand. With a low yelp, she barely made it up to waist height, dropping back down to her knees and clutching at her right thigh.
“Kurt-” She managed to croak through the pain.
Manning instinctively took a step toward her, extending his hand to help. He was immediately cut short as a howling laser bolt punched into the tiles by his feet, scattering cracked ceramic. The shriek of Sayne’s blaster temporarily drowned out the sound of the Tyrant’s calls.
Kurt looked up to see Sayne shaking his head. Jadyn compellingly mouthed the words, “You stay.”

Kurt turned around to see that the laser bolt had attracted the Tyrant’s attention. He was sprinting toward them, knocking aside kiosks and tables as he ran. His accomplice, the pirate Pete Connors, was in close formation. Kurt swore and spun on his heel, lifting his shotgun to bear in the direction of the charging pirates. He knew the ranged shot wouldn’t do much damage, but at best it might scatter the two men, forcing them into cover.
Handling the weapon as if it were a rifle, Kurt aimed with both arms and lightly squeezed the trigger. Blat.
The sound of the shotgun blast rent the air, a cloud of scorching plasma flechettes cannoning out in the direction of the pirates. Connors slid to the ground, taking cover behind a rack of magazines, but Tyrant Scarman was unperturbed. If he had been hit by the blast, he did not show it as he continued to sprint toward them.

As Kurt hammered the shotgun, readying for a second effort, a huge explosion detonated somewhere to his left. He glanced across just in time for a hot shockwave to hit him. He braced against the blast, which pushed him a couple of inches along the floor. A fireball had punched down through the ceiling around a hundred metres from them, raining fire and debris down into the terminal. A cloud of smoke and dust billowed down from the gaping hole in the ceiling, expanding rapidly throughout the large open space. The building complained with a rumble of aftershock. Kurt swore he felt the tower sway beneath his feet. He didn’t have time to think about it as returning weapons fire came at him from Connors’ crouched position by a small magazine stall. Energy bolts from the pirate’s laser pistol tore through the air close to Kurt’s head. He instinctively ducked down and skidded over to Victoria.
“Stay close to me,” he said, pulling her up by the arm.
“Kurt,” Victoria felt tense under his grasp, “Look out-”
Manning didn’t notice in time. Tyrant Scarman barreled into the pair of them, forcefully wrenching them clear of one another. Victoria screamed in pain as she spiraled backwards, clattering into an adjacent coffee bar. Kurt grunted as he hit the ground, his collarbone cracking audibly under the impact. His shotgun skittered away lightly across the cold porcelain floor.

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| S C A R E C R O W |

"See you space cowboy..."