Ghost Ranger

by Dayne Edmondson

  I hesitantly let down my shield.

  People lay on the concrete, trampled but moving, while most had run away to a safe distance. The police had arrived, setting up a perimeter, finally. It looked like they hadn’t decided whether to form a perimeter to protect us from the mob or the mob from us.

  One gunship landed and Captain Wilson hopped off and crossed the distance to us. “Private,” he said tersely. “I understand you ran into a little trouble.”

  I saluted. “Yes, sir. These civilians,” I gestured to the man and woman who only now were untangling from each other, “were being harassed by a mob. They’d surrounded them, sir, and were calling them nasty slurs related to their status as undead. We felt compelled to help. But then the communications were jammed and...”

  Captain Wilson held up a hand. “I’ve heard enough for now. Come along - you’ll be debriefed on the Daedalus.” He turned and, without acknowledging the civilians, headed back toward the gunship.

  I looked to the man and the woman. “You’re safe now. Go straight home and lock your door.”

  “Thank you, miss,” the man said. “But we’re going to get the hell off this planet as soon as possible. It’s unknown if there’s anywhere safe, though. Maybe we’ll go back to Galatia IV.” They stumbled toward the police line.

  I ran up to Julianna and grabbed her arm, bringing her to a halt. “Hey, are you okay?”

  “We nearly died, Rachel, again. Almost killed by racist fucks who think they’re superior to us. Maybe it’s the name - wasn’t that girl at that high school named Rachel, too?”

  “Maybe,” I hedged. “I don’t recall her name.”

  “It doesn’t matter. This shit has got to stop. Someone needs to show them that not only are we not inferior, we’re superior to them.”

  “But then are we any better than they are?” I asked. “That won’t bring peace.”

  “Don’t you remember the saying, ‘If you desire peace, prepare for war?’ Peace won’t come by us asking nicely.” She shook off my hand and stormed off toward the gunship.

  Casting one last glance at the hateful crowd, some of whom were still glaring in our direction, I followed.

  Chapter 24

  “We’re being co-opted,” Captain Wilson began, “for a joint operation with the FIA.”

  The announcement made me perk up and pay closer attention. We stood in the ready room as a holo-display popped up, displaying what looked to be a large compound.

  “This is a facility owned, officially, at least, by the Brahui Corporation, on the planet Urkusk, near the border with the Commerce Sector. But the FIA has uncovered intel, at a high cost, I’m told, that it’s a shell corporation for the Xanos Reapers.”

  I remembered that name from something my father or Isabelle had mentioned, but I couldn’t tip my hand. Instead I raised my hand. “The Xanos Reapers, sir?”

  “I was getting to it, Private. The Xanos Reapers are classified as a terrorist organization. They’re believed to have ties with the Cult of Rae, which, before you ask, worship some ancient god of the Krai’kesh and work to do his ‘will’ in this galaxy. Bunch of hoo-ha if you ask me, but not any crazier than the other religions out there, I suppose.”

  Not wanting to argue the merits of religions, I kept my mouth shut and waited.

  Captain Wilson raised an eyebrow. “Not going to take the bait. All right then, back to business. The Xanos Reapers are believed to have had a hand in designing the virus that hit Galatia IV. A sensitive topic for many of you, I suspect.”

  Nods came from my fellow Delta Company Rangers. I found myself nodding too. If we could find who was responsible for turning us into undead it would go a long way toward getting justice. While millions had been turned into undead, millions more remained dead, and the genocide deserved avenging.

  “This is our first big lead and a hit on this facility could yield information on where the virus was manufactured. As this is a joint ops, Deputy Director Thorpe and other FIA field operatives will be joining us.”

  My heart leapt at that revelation. Deputy Director meant Isabelle. I wondered if Kimberly would be with her, too.

  “The strike will begin at nineteen hundred tonight,” he said, laying out the plans.

  ISABELLE SAT ACROSS the aisle from me, wearing a black body-hugging synth suit with the helmet down. She didn’t acknowledge me, other than winking when she’d first spotted me. Right now, she looked bored, not fidgeting or talking, eyes closed as if she were meditating. Next to her sat my other friend, Kimberly, looking more nervous and taking turns gawking at the Rangers and the interior of the Daedalus. Her gaze had passed over me numerous times, but if Isabelle had disclosed my identity to her she was doing a good job of hiding it.

  Rachel, a voice, Isabelle’s voice, I realized, came in my head. Not like comms, but like Jarvis. Do you copy?

  Isabelle? I asked, incredulous. How are you communicating through my implant like that? My cousin hadn’t moved, still with her eyes closed.

  I2I, or Implant to Implant, communication. It uses a different communication network, which is more heavily encrypted. We can’t be eavesdropped on.

  Oh. Well, that’s good. I paused. How have you been? I saw your father a few months back - he helped me adjust to my new powers.

  Yes, I was briefed on your powers. I’m glad you survived, and that’s quite an interesting power you have.

  I’d rather have developed shifting, or magic, I grumbled.

  Well, you’re one of a kind, now. Just like your father.

  How is my father, anyway?

  He is well. There’s been political pressure from the Senate, so he’s been on a tour across the Federation for several months.

  A tour? Talking about what?

  Recruitment numbers are down, so he’s talking about the importance of a strong military and talking up the benefits of joining the armed forces. It’s hard though, when we’re not actively at war, to get people riled up.

  The Empire is still out there, I pointed out. They’re still a threat. And this Cult of Rae and their lackeys are a threat, right?

  The war with the Empire is a cold war, my cousin pointed out. And wars on terror don’t engender the same level of fervor because there’s no clear target. Hence your father going out talking about the coming threat of the Krai’kesh and our need for constant vigilance.

  I couldn’t resist rolling my eyes. The same Krai’kesh that have been “coming” for two thousand years. I tried to put a sarcastic emphasis on coming, and hoped it translated as well through the implant.

  Yes, which explains the push-back he’s received not only from some Senators but from some of the people he speaks to. You can only cry that the sky is falling so many times before people become deaf to it.

  Is Kimberly doing well? I asked, changing the subject. Did you tell her about me?

  She’s doing well, learning a lot and she’s been through a lot. I don’t have time to recount it all, but we almost lost her a couple missions ago. She was instrumental in getting us this intel, though. As for her knowing your identity, that’s above her clearance level. The fewer people who know your identity, the less risk there is to you.

  A feeling of melancholy washed over me. Sadness that my long-time friend wouldn’t recognize me in a disguise. Logically, I knew that was the point, but emotionally it made me feel lonelier. I cleared my proverbial mental throat and responded. Yes, that’s probably for the best. You have what, a dozen agents with you?

  Two dozen, all from the local FIA office. I like to travel light, she offered as way of explanation. Hence I didn’t lug an FIA strike team from Tar Ebon with me. And maybe I wanted to see you again.

  That made me smile, which would look odd to outside observers, but I didn’t care. The Rangers won’t let you down.

  I’m counting on that.

  “Three minutes till reversion to real space,” the Tactical Commander announced. “All passengers, strap in for rapid acceleration. Crew, man battle stations.
”

  I pulled the straps over my shoulders and clicked them together to form a chest harness. They were uncomfortable, so I avoided wearing them until necessary.

  The three minutes passed quick, then a jolt and verbal confirmation from the Tactical Commander confirmed our emergence from shadow space into real space.

  See you on the ground, my cousin said, then she grabbed Kimberly’s arm and disappeared in a cloud of shadowy smoke.

  That wasn’t part of the plan, I thought. Though Captain Wilson had only told them their part of the attack plan - he probably wasn’t privy to the FIA’s plans. The half dozen FIA agents in our compartment didn’t seem surprised at the disappearance of their Deputy Director, so I assumed it was part of the plan.

  A second jolt rocked the Daedalus and I was slammed back in my seat as the ship rapidly accelerated. Normally the inertial dampeners would stop the G-forces, but I’d learned there were times when the ship accelerated quickly, going from a velocity of zero to high max speed, that the dampeners would be temporarily overwhelmed. If we hadn’t been strapped in I would have been hurled about like a rag doll, likely causing damage to me or others. Even using anti-gravity in a situation like that could be dangerous, as then the rear of the ship would slam into me while I floated with no velocity. To solve that, I could summon a gravity ball, perhaps attaching it to a point in the front, and have it drag me along at the same velocity as the accelerating ship.

  “Entering atmosphere,” the Tactical Commander announced a few minutes later. The ship rattled as it went, then the ride smoothed out. “Nearing the facility. Gunships, launch!”

  The display of the outside of the ship showed four gunships streaming toward the facility we’d seen on the holo-map.

  Anti-aircraft fire commenced, with shells hurtling skyward and exploding below and around the gunships and the Daedalus. Fortunately, the shields shimmered, absorbing the shrapnel released by the explosions. One gunship was hit and started leaning to one side but stabilized and continued on its path.

  No sooner had the anti-aircraft fire begun than it stopped. Smoke rose from the locations of the guns. That must be Isabelle’s work.

  The Daedalus sailed toward the fortress, which had been built into the side of a mountain. The gunships were already in position, pouring lasers and bullets toward unseen targets.

  At last our ship took position overhead. “Rangers and agents to the launch bay,” the Tactical Commander announced.

  I unstrapped and followed the rest to the launch bay. There we lined up and grabbed our parachutes. Donning my parachute, I followed the other Rangers and FIA agents and leapt out of the ship. Pulling the string, my parachute opened and I sailed down to the surface.

  Enemies ran here and there, shooting up at the descending soldiers while we returned fire.

  I spotted Isabelle below. She was swirling among a cluster of enemies, alternating between slashing with her blade and firing her pistol, disappearing in puffs of shadowy smoke, only to reappear moments later behind one enemy or another.

  I tucked and rolled to absorb the impact and then raced to the edge of the building, choosing my first target and firing.

  There were a lot of enemies, but we had the high ground, the element of surprise and gunships as fire support. The enemy was falling back to their inner sanctum.

  Once the courtyard was clear, I descended and approached Isabelle, who stood with her arms crossed. “It’s about time you grunts arrived.”

  “You could go on without us, ma’am,” I said.

  “Yes, but where’s the fun in that?” She tossed me a mischievous grin, then sobered. “Plus, there is an anti-magic field in place, preventing me from shifting beyond those doors.” She nodded toward the front doors of the building.

  “Oh, so you lose some of your defensive ability,” I observed.

  “More than a little, yes. I can’t turn myself partly transparent to avoid projectiles, can’t shift to move quickly, can’t swap out weapons easily.”

  “So, you’re like a normal soldier?”

  She groaned. “Yes, I’m a normal soldier who’s been fighting for two thousand years,” she said sarcastically.

  I chuckled. “I should go, before someone notices us talking.” It wouldn’t do for Captain Wilson to see me talking to the Deputy Director of the FIA and either chew me out or wonder why I was talking to her and ask about the content of our conversation.

  Isabelle, taking that as her cue, strode toward the door to the inner facility. Her two dozen agents, which had been reduced by a handful, along with the remaining seventy-fifth battalion Rangers, followed. The corpses of our enemies littered the ground.

  Kimberly sprinted across the field to catch up with her trainer. She wiped her mouth, and looked paler than usual, suggesting she’d been throwing up. Had this been her first mass combat situation? She didn’t spare a glance for me, which forestalled me from approaching her to ask what was wrong.

  A grenade shattered the glass door and myself, Isabelle and the other Rangers led the way inside. A glance back showed Kimberly remaining behind with the FIA agents. They followed at a safe distance.

  The moment I passed through the shattered doorway, I felt something change. I could still feel the bundle of my power but it felt stronger somehow. Would the anti-magic field affect me the same as it did Isabelle? I felt a temptation to test whether I could still use my power, but there was no time to stop.

  A few security forces fired at us, but fell back or died as a hailstorm of lasers and bullets hurled back at them.

  Inside the fortress, it spread into a labyrinth of corridors stretching in seemingly every direction. “Does anyone have a map?” I asked through the squad comms, part sarcastically, part seriously.

  “One of our agents sent what we believe was a complete map but it’s turning out to not be accurate,” Isabelle said as she led us to a dead-end. “They must have planted false data for her to find.”

  “Is the agent still alive?” I asked.

  “Sadly, no. She was killed shortly after providing this intel.”

  “Stop pestering the Deputy Director,” Captain Wilson said over the comm.

  “Yes, sir,” I responded, holding back a sarcastic remark.

  “Should we spread out?” Julianna asked as we passed through a blast door into a new corridor, giving me a wink. She had my back. The corridor struck me as odd, for it had no doors along it, while a door at the far end sat closed.

  “No. That could be what they want. I think this could be a shifting maze. If I had my powers, I could...” a roar interrupted my answer.

  The door at our rear slid shut, almost slicing off the legs of one Ranger before he could leap out of the way. Half our group, including Kimberly, stood on the other side of the door.

  The comms erupted with chatter, with the sergeants reporting what had happened. “The door won’t open,” one Ranger said, trying the door controls. “Should we try to shoot them?”

  “Press your glove to the console, see if your implant can hack it,” a sergeant ordered.

  The Ranger did, but then stiffened as a zap sound filled the air. He crumpled to the ground. “Booby-trapped,” the sergeant said, cursing.

  “I have a feeling this was intentional,” Isabelle remarked in a cool, calm tone. She turned her gaze to the far door. “And I fear this wasn’t the only surprise awaiting us.”

  Her fear was justified a moment later as the door at the far end of the corridor slid up, revealing half a dozen or more undead. Only, they weren’t the conscious undead like me. No, the skin missing from their faces, one missing an eye and another missing the skin from his arm, showing bone at one end, suggested these were the mindless variety.

  The lead undead let out a feral roar and ran, not lumbered, toward us.

  “Open fire!” Isabelle shouted, needlessly, for the team had already begun firing. Bullets tore through the flesh of the feral undead while lasers burned into them.

  The lead monster fell, but
the others kept on, showing no concern for their fallen comrade. They would be on us in seconds, despite the length of the corridor.

  “Grenade!” one Ranger called, tossing a grenade in the path of the charging onslaught. It exploded seconds later, sending shrapnel slashing into the walking corpses, with minimal effect.

  “We do this the hard way, then,” Isabelle said, shouldering her rifle and withdrawing two swords from the scabbards on her back. They gleamed in the bright light of the corridor. She stood at the fore of the enemy assault, fearless in the face of possible death. Had she forgotten her diminished power in this place?

  The first foe reached Isabelle and found themselves decapitated by a blurring casual swipe of her blade. The second blade thrust through the chest of the second enemy.

  Possessing only a rifle and daggers, I chose to try to fire past my cousin. I pulled the trigger and electro-magnetically propelled bullets streaked through the air and slammed into the reanimated enemies further down the hall.

  More of the enemies were running through the doorway. I estimated a few dozen. Who knew how many of the mindless creatures lay in the facility? It was clear our foe had laid a trap for us, using the monsters as their cannon fodder to rebuff our attack. Or were they trying to buy time for reinforcements to arrive?

  Our backs were pressed against the wall, or door, in this case. We had nowhere to run. It was fight or die.

  Isabelle stabbed another undead with both blades at once, kicking him back into his comrades, buying a moment of breathing room. Another grenade sailed toward the rear of the enemy column and sent a few more toppling to the ground, though they got up moments later.

  “Rachel, does your power work in here?” my cousin shouted through the comm to be heard over the din.

  “Let me try!” I said into my comm. Stepping back to let another Ranger take my place, I closed my eyes and envisioned summoning a graviton ball. As I reopened my eyes, the orb appeared as commanded, though it seemed darker than I remembered. “I can do it!”