Ghost Ranger

by Dayne Edmondson

  My fear was unfounded, however, for my father showed no outward sign of anger, not even a clenched jaw or fist. Instead he nodded. “I did what I had to do. But I believe, as does every scientist in this fleet, that there is hope for many of the victims. Yes, we had a setback and the treatment failed in one instance. But there are a dozen other patients who are recovering from their successful treatments. The treatment works.”

  The general inclined his head to my father. “As you say, Supreme Commander. I’m returning to Marine Ops. I trust you’ll notify me if the tactical situation changes drastically.”

  “You’ll be the first to know,” my father replied. “Though I am curious as to what brought you to the bridge.”

  “I wanted to see your vaunted daughter for myself, sir.” The general turned on his heels without waiting for a response and left the bridge.

  After the blast doors had closed, my father’s shoulders slumped, slightly. He met my eyes. “Are you okay?”

  “Do all your subordinates talk to you like that?” I asked. “I wanted to hit that guy.”

  “He spoke with respect, as he is allowed. And if you had hit him you might have killed him. At the least you would have faced criminal charges.”

  “You’d lock your own daughter in the brig?” I asked, remembering military terminology from the countless television shows I’d watched over the years.

  “I am bound by the law, the same as anyone,” my father said patiently. “The Federation is built on law and order and if I circumvented that law and order, no matter who it was, then I would be no better than a tyrant or dictator.”

  “I thought the Empire was built on law and order and the Federation was built on freedom.”

  My father laughed. “Touché. The Federation was built with laws to protect the freedom of its citizens and to maintain order. The Empire was built with laws meant to protect the rule of the Emperor and to control its citizenry. That is the core difference.”

  “I know, I know,” I replied petulantly. I had learned that in school. A school that was in ruins now. “Speaking of the Empire. Do you think they were behind the virus?”

  “I honestly don’t know. Isab...your cousin...is continuing to gather and review the evidence to build a case against the Empire or whatever party was responsible. Rest assured that if it was the Empire, nothing will stop me from making them pay.”

  “Are things really that bad down there? Are Marines dying in droves?”

  “Come, have a look.” He swiped and close-up images of a city on fire expanded to fill the space next to the hologram of the planet. “Many of the major cities are in chaos. In addition to the undead, looters and rioters have taken to the streets. Law enforcement gave up early in the fight and our Marines only landed twelve hours ago in force.”

  A different image replaced the first. Here was another city, this time with what looked like walls around it and crowds of people outside the walls. “We’ve set up temporary sanctuaries in more remote cities that were not yet affected by the virus. Walls were the priority, then defenses. We’re ferrying the uninfected to these sanctuaries until they can be evacuated. The virus has a short incubation period, so we know within a few hours whether they’re infected or not. Of course, the smell of human flesh has drawn the infected to these cities too.” The image zoomed in to show hordes of undead hammering at the walls. “That is actually good, because it means we can apprehend groups of the undead with ease and ferry them to facilities for treatment.”

  “Do they all come to the Nightblade?”

  “The early patients did,” he gestured to me. “But no, now that the rest of the fleet has arrived, they’re sent to dedicated medical frigates and kept separate so if one frigate falls the rest will survive.”

  “They’re really that dangerous?” I asked. What I meant was, I’m really that dangerous?

  “The virus grants superior strength and speed to that of a human. Do you remember the stories of vampires you used to enjoy?”

  “I usually read the romance ones, but yeah, I remember. Vampires that could turn into bats and had super speed and strength and could hypnotize people. And were weak to silver and holy water.”

  “Well, aside from the weaknesses, and the bats and hypnotizing thing, the virus grants speed and strength akin to what vampires were depicted as possessing. An infected has lightning fast reflexes and the one I fought went toe-to-toe with three Marines in power armor - a feat that a dozen men shouldn’t have been able to accomplish.”

  “Wow,” I said. I curled my fingers into a fist. “So, I’m that strong?”

  “We won’t know until we test you, but the presumption is you are.”

  “Imagine an army of infected,” I mused. “They would be unstoppable.”

  My father snorted. “Oh, believe me, once the general gets over his indignation at not getting to nuke a planet he’ll begin thinking of the military applications. And I guarantee military contractors are already looking to get their hands on as many infected as possible.”

  “To turn them into weapons?”

  “Probably to train them to be super-soldiers.”

  “Then the Federation should train them first,” I offered. “Keep them in-house.”

  “You read my mind,” my father said, smiling. “I will offer anyone willing to join the military an incentive.”

  “Even me?”

  He blinked and stared at me, speechless, for a long moment. “You would want to join the military?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. But if what you say is true about my abilities then I’d be wasting them being an engineer or teacher or nurse or whatever.”

  “Well, there will be time to talk about that after the conflict is over.” He was stalling for time, I could tell.

  Rather than call him out in front of his subordinates, I inclined my head and said, “Sounds good.”

  The holo-map chose that moment to flash a bright red and start to blare a high-pitched alarm. My father spun and said, “Show me.”

  The serene city he’d shown me earlier was replaced by a scene of a walled city on fire. The wall was breached in one spot, which the image zoomed in on. Undead were swarming through the breach and being met by laser fire and hails of bullets. “Velmar City has been breached,” a toneless voice reported. “Evacuation efforts are accelerating while defense forces buy them time.”

  My father hung his head. “I was afraid of this. The walls won’t hold forever. We’re running out of time. TacComm, give me Admiral Helsvyn.”

  “Of course,” the same voice belonging to the tactical commander said from a raised alcove behind us, above the blast doors. The image of the burning city was joined by a second image, this time of a broad-chested Rovarkian man with long blond hair tied back. He looked younger than General Hargreaves, though age was difficult to gauge in the age of nano-technology.

  “Supreme Commander, what a pleasant surprise,” the man said, offering what to me looked like a vacant smile that didn’t reach his eyes. I got the impression he didn’t like my father. “What can I do for you?”

  “I expected the third fleet two hours ago. What’s your status?”

  “We have almost completed resupply, sir. Then we will join you at Galatia IV.”

  “The situation has become dire, Admiral. We need your additional ships to aid in the evacuation effort now. Can you send your transports on ahead now?”

  “Sir,” he drawled in his thick accent, “I don’t think that is a good idea.”

  “And why not?” I heard the undertone of irritation in my father’s voice. He hid it well, but I had heard it before when he was irritated with me about one thing or another.

  “We are their protection, sir. If I go sending them off into the void without defenses...”

  “They’re coming to what is right now one of the largest congregations of Federation warships outside of Tar Ebon. If they’re not safe here, where will they be safe, Admiral?” my father challenged.

  The admiral
blinked, whether at the ferocity of my father’s words or as a side-effect of trying to think of an answer. “I see your point. I will order the transports to depart within the hour.”

  “Within the half-hour,” my father amended.

  “Of course, sir.”

  “That will be all, Admiral.” My father swiped and the display vanished. “Bring up Velmar City command.”

  A new display appeared, this time showing an improvised command center with many personnel talking at once. One Marine stood out and was the one to look into the display. “Supreme Commander,” he snapped, saluting.

  “Commander, what’s your status?”

  “Not good, sir. The undead are closing on our position. I’m unsure how long we can hold out.” His gaze hardened. “But I can assure you we will be the last ones out.”

  “I expect nothing less. You’re doing good work, Commander. We’re dispatching all available transports to your location and have more on the way. Just hold on a little longer.”

  “Thank you, sir.” The commander saluted. “Velmar City command out.” The image faded.

  “Have there been any other breaches, TacComm?”

  “Not yet, sir.”

  “Let me know the instant there is. And the instant Admiral Helsvyn’s transports arrive.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  My father looked over at me. “The burden of command.”

  “The what?”

  “The burden of command,” he repeated. “The burden of standing here watching brave men and women die and commanding from afar when I would rather be there, on the front lines.”

  “It doesn’t sound like much of a burden,” I said. “Other than on your conscience.” A dark thought struck me. “Did you call it the burden of command when my mother died in your service?”

  “Rachel,” he began, pain showing in his eyes. “What happened to your mother was a tragedy that to this day I wish could have been prevented. We got revenge, but no amount of revenge could ever replace her smiling face.” He cleared his throat. “But yes, my burden was to watch the video feed as the station she commanded self-destructed to keep dangerous plans out of Imperial hands.”

  “Better her than you, right?” I sneered. “Wouldn’t want the vaunted supreme commander to die.”

  “Rachel Marie!” he scolded.

  I blushed, though not out of shame. Anger coursed through me and I clenched my fists. “It’s not fair!” I shouted.

  “Stop acting like a petulant child,” my father said in a harsh whisper. He looked around, as if daring his subordinates to say something about me. Or was he worried about what they would think? “This is neither the time nor the place to have this conversation.” He smoothed his face. “Now, I’ve arranged for more comfortable quarters for you. Your guards will show you the way. Rest and wait for me there and we can continue this conversation when this conflict is over.”

  I glared at my father, anger growing, as a voice in the far back of my head tried to calm me down. Don’t make a scene, the voice said. This is your father - show him respect. You’re not a monster. I shook my head - whether to banish the voice from my head or to shake some sense into myself I’m not sure - and settled for nodding. “Fine,” I said through gritted teeth. Then, not wanting to give my father the satisfaction of slinking away, I held my back as straight as possible and stalked down the stairs and through the blast doors.

  My guards must have been apprised of the situation or had good hearing, for they didn’t seem surprised in the least at my appearance. “This way to your rooms, miss,” the first guard said.

  “What are your names?” I asked, not moving.

  “Pardon?”

  “If you’re going to be my babysitters, or jailers, I would at least like to know your names.”

  “I’m Terrence,” the first guard I’d spoken to upon waking said.

  “Phillip,” the second guard said.

  “Eleanor,” the third guard said.

  “Delenn,” the final guard said.

  I nodded, trying to memorize all the names. It was like when my teachers would quiz us on all the provinces on the planet or all the planets in the sector. Heaven forbid anyone try to memorize all the planets in the Federation. “Thank you.” I gestured. “Lead the way.”

  Terrence nodded. “Same formation as before.”

  “But there’s no danger now,” I pointed out.

  “Better to be in the habit of constant vigilance than allow complacency to be our downfall,” he pointed out.

  “Yeah, your dad would have our heads if we let anything happen to you, darlin’,” Phillip said. I found his candor refreshing.

  We returned to the transport tube and they punched in the coordinates for green sector.

  “What sector was the medical bay in?” I asked, curious.

  “Red sector,” Terrence answered.

  “So, what is green sector?”

  “Take three guesses, the first two don’t count,” Phillip said.

  “Shut up,” one of the women, Delenn, said.

  “What?” Phillip said trying to act innocent even as he held his rifle at the ready. “Green is associated with money - or used to be - right? So, it makes sense all the rich passengers would bunk there.”

  “That’s not why they call it that,” Terrence interjected.

  “Not officially.”

  I snickered. Ask them their names and they seemed to open right up. “You guys are funny.”

  “He’s funny,” Eleanor said, pointing at Phillip. “The rest of us, not so much.”

  Phillip shrugged. “Gotta have some levity in the squad, right?”

  The doors of the transport opened before anyone could respond to Phillip. The squad of guards led me down almost-deserted corridors. “Where is everyone?” I asked.

  “Not many dignitaries aboard the Nightblade right now,” Terrence replied. “And all the officers are out commanding.”

  “That make sense,” I said.

  After walking for a few minutes, we arrived at a set of doors. “These are your quarters.” The door slid open and the guards spread out to inspect the room. Once they were satisfied, they filed toward the door and stopped just inside it. “All clear. Two of us will be outside at all times if you need us.”

  “Will any of you be in here with me?” I asked.

  “Not unless you want us to or we believe there is reason to be in here. We value your privacy.”

  “That sounds like it should be on an FIA bulletin board,” Delenn answered. “’We’re the Federation Intelligence Agency. We value your privacy.’”

  Eleanor snorted.

  Phillip made a fist and held it out. “Sick burn. Put ‘er there.”

  Delenn extended her arm and slapped the man in the helmet. “Let’s go. I’m sure she wants to get some rest.”

  The guards slipped outside, still bantering, and the door slid shut to muffle their words.

  For the first time since I’d awoken, I was alone - truly alone. My shoulders sagged. “Well, this is your life now,” I told myself. “Better get used to it.” I looked around the chambers. They were far more lavish than what I’d been accustomed to back in Silver City. I stood in a front room or parlor. I passed through a doorway and found myself in a hallway lined with several doors. I peeked into each one and found four bedrooms and two bathrooms. “So much space for just me,” I muttered. At least I would have my pick of rooms. I chose the room at the end of the hall on the right and flopped down on the bed. It wasn’t long before sleep took me.

  Chapter 5

  I don’t know how long I slept, but boy did it feel good. There’s something about natural sleep that is so relaxing compared to medically-induced comas or dying.

  I opened my eyes and drank in the silence. There was a slight hum of machinery, but for the most part silence reigned. I left and made my way to the common room of my suite. Then I screamed.

  A person was sitting in a chair, their back to me. I couldn’t tell at firs
t whether they were male or female. They didn’t stir at my scream. Were they dead?

  The door slid open and my guards looked in. “You all right, miss?”

  “There...there,” I stammered. “There’s someone right there.” I pointed at the occupied chair.

  The guards exchanged glances. “Yes?” he said quizzically. “We let her in.”

  “Who?” I asked frantically, preparing to fight. Were my own guards betraying me? Was this an assassin, sent to finish the job?

  My fears evaporated a moment later as the woman rose and turned to face me. She wore tight black leather armor and combat boots.

  I gawked. “Isabelle?”

  One of my best friends in the universe smiled at me in that moment. “Hey, Rachel. I just wanted to yank your chain.” She looked toward the guards, her smiling receding for a moment. “You can go.” She looked back to me as the door slid shut behind them. “You look a little worse for wear.”

  I blushed, looking down at the hospital gown I still wore. I’d been so tired I hadn’t bothered to seek out a new outfit. “It’s been a long couple of days,” I admitted. I sat down across from her.

  Isabelle shrugged. “I admit I cleaned up before I came up here. You wouldn’t have wanted to see me covered in blood and guts.”

  “None of it yours, I presume,” I said, looking her up and down. There were no bandages on her and no cuts on any of the skin showing.

  She smirked. “I had a few cuts, but my nanites healed it.”

  “Any caused by the infected?”

  She snorted. “Ha, those lumbering idiots couldn’t hit a tortoise.”

  I frowned. “My father said the undead are fast.”

  “There’s a difference between the zombies and undead,” Isabelle began, sounding like my father. “The zombies are mindless. They have strength, but no coordination. It’s like having a powerful speeder but a stupid as hell driver. Their speed is useless for anything but running since all they do is flap around fast. The undead,” she pointed at me, “have that strength and speed and coordination, which makes them dangerous.”

  “Is that what happened with the undead who,” I swallowed before continuing, “rampaged through the medical bay?”