Terror at Roschin Colony

by Scott Lucas

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  The Rookery Tavern was a dive. Behind every shadow lurked an attacker with a weapon. The patrons were mostly grizzled pilots stopping in for a drink while the technicians refueled their ships, unloaded their cargo, and they moved onto the next station, base, moon, or planet. Many wore cloaks similar to Tem’s, and as he walked in, he seemed at a cursory glance to be one of them. Others were shifty ne’er do wells of all humanoid varieties, looking to make a quick score.

  He arrived early. Tem took a seat at an empty corner table with a view of the doorway. He glanced behind him occasionally. A small window to his left provided a view of the bustling street outside.

  He told himself he needed to be ready for anything. He needed to stay on guard. Still, his cursory glances around the place had not shot up any flares for him.

  “Something for yeh?”

  Tem jumped. He had not heard the barkeeper approach.

  So much for staying on guard, Tem thought.

  The diminutive, furry man floated on hover-plates developed for the miniature Rintekki with their mouse-like features.

  The drink menu blinked across the transparent table’s surface. “I’ll have, um…”

  As a Paladin, Tem had abstained from alcohol and his knowledge of drinks was as limited as his knowledge of the criminal underworld. He chose a menu item at random, and the Rintekki fluttered behind the bar to an intricate system of levers and nozzles that mixed several fluids together with precision and returned.

  Tem sipped his bitter drink. He would never have deigned to blend with these people before. It rankled him that he needed to appear as one of them. Life can change on a pulse and this place was his last refuge; a place he once considered beneath him.

  Darkness grew in Tem’s dim corner. The reflective surface of the table betrayed a behemoth shape looming over him. The man was a mutant with a pinker shade than normal, the size of an upright rhinoceros, and wore the gold coat of a Star Chamber Tribunal asset. The sleeve fringes displayed a higher status.

  The immense mutant was not alone. Three smaller, lizard-like mutants flanked the larger man, also wearing gold coats.

  Tem wondered what their role had been in the war. Even the big man did not resemble a soldier. Informants, perhaps? Torturers? Several Paladins had been brought before the Star Chamber Tribunal over the years.

  The large man slapped a meaty hand onto a ceiling beam and leaned toward Tem. “I like that suit you are wearing. You see little of them anymore.”

  Tem said nothing.

  “It’s a rarity these days. Worth a lot since all the Paladins died.”

  As he spoke, the big man tugged a lapel on his golden coat, displaying a red and black array of squares forming a crude rose. It was the reward insignia for special services rendered to the Tribunal.

  “Your suit has a commander’s rankings. Where did you buy it?”

  “I didn’t buy it.” Tem held his glass tighter.

  “Did you pluck it off a dead Paladin’s body? Only a few of them left. I know that firsthand.” The larger man chuckled. His entourage cackled.

  “No, I did not steal it either.”

  His anger started to boil. He slowed his breathing to control his emotions. A bar fight would worsen his situation. If he won, everyone would know he was a Paladin. If he lost, he could die, or worse, he could be brought before the Star Chamber Tribunal: the place where Paladins go to die. They would execute him following a lengthy, broadcasted ‘inquisition’ detailing his alleged traitorous activities against the new theocratic confederation. Tem would prefer a plasma bolt to the head.

  Under the table, Tem charged a hidden stun baton from his side and waited.

  The head mutant leaned closer, placing both palms flat on the table. His skin met the surface of the table like putty. He grinned, revealing sharp, pointed teeth the size of human thumbnails. “Give me your suit and we won’t tell anyone who you are.”

  “I don’t think it fits,” Tem remarked, and took a sip.

  The three lizard-like goons snickered.

  Under the table, the stun baton at Tem’s hip had finished charging. At the flip of a switch beneath his thumb, the weapon charged with a slow whine, inaudible in the clamoring bar.

  Slow your breathing. Take control. Breathe in, hold, let go of your anger. Exhale.

  The larger mutant responded, “I’m not planning on wearing it.” One of his unnaturally pink hands brushed aside a few inches of Tem’s colored cloak.

  Not yet.

  Tem held the mutant’s gaze while his mind worked on staying calm, letting go, and allowing his training to take over.

  “Those suits bring a pretty penny on the market, or I might just keep it as another trophy in my collection.”

  His three lizard-like goons snickered.

  “I told you to give it to me,” the pink thug threatened.

  Tem sighed. “It’s mine. I earned it.”

  The smaller flunkies snickered at their boss, which enraged the larger man.

  “Your choice, ‘Paladin.’” The mutant spat out the word. “Give me the suit or I call the Chamber Guard, or the morgue. Your choice.”

  Tem beckoned to the barkeeper. The Rintekki hovered over to him and handed him his drink.

  “Many thanks,” Tem said.

  The Rintekki scurried back behind the bar.

  “You don’t look like the kind of man who needs to call the Chamber Guard.” Tem motioned to the lizard-like men who flanked the mutant. “Though I suspect your lackeys must compensate for something.”

  The mutant roared before attacking. Stupid.

  Tem let go and let his body become a weapon. A fist the size of a concrete block swung at Tem, who ducked and rolled under the fist, and zapped the mutant. The mutant screamed and froze for a moment.

  Tem leaped to his feet and somersaulted over his large assailant. The mutant swung blindly, cracking one of his own goons, the one who drew a diamond blade. The lizard-like man was dead. The diamond blade went flying.

  Tem landed with his palm down with his right hand clutching the stun baton out to the side. Tem rolled to his right.

  The other two lizard-men charged. Tem wasted none of the baton’s charges on them. He tossed the baton into the air. Tem struck them with a few quick blows and one lizard-like thug crumpled, bleeding from the snout and missing several teeth. The Paladin unleashed a barrage of kicks to the last lizard-like thug, sending the thug whimpering against the wall and hugging a mess of broken ribs, spattering the floor with vomited blood. Tem caught the baton.

  Tem faced the largest mutant who charged. Glasses on the surrounding tables clattered with the footfalls. The pink mutant picked up the diamond blade.

  “I’m gonna carve you like a Cartengan avion.”

  “Let’s see.”

  As the gold-coat charged, Tem sidestepped and fired a baton charge into the mutant’s back. The mutant crashed into a nearby table. The gold-coat hung onto the table and flung himself back into the fray with renewed vigor.

  Tem dodged again and thrust his baton into the man’s groin. The larger man bellowed as his body convulsed and hit the floor with a loud thud.

  The diamond blade flew from the injured mutant’s fist and slid across the floor until a brown-skinned man with dark curly hair and a finely trimmed beard stopped the blade with his foot. The man picked it up and held it in his fist.

  Tem glanced upward to see Ahmad Bashir, who held the powerful blade. With his other hand, Ahmad helped Tem to his feet.

  “Staying off the radar? You’re about as subtle as an Arcazian Dreadnaught, Temirlan,” Bashir said, giving Tem the dangerous blade. Tem hid it inside his cloak.

  “This man is with me,” Ahmad Bashir declared. “I apologize for this disruption. Everyone here...” He produced a credit chip from a brightly colored bag and slid it to the Rintekki barkeeper. “Drinks free tonight!”

  The patrons raised a glass and cheered Ahmad as the Rintekki scowled at him. He was look
ing at a long night. However, a few patrons kept narrowed eyes on Tem.

  Tem prodded the unconscious mutant with one of his feet. A charge to the face would have killed a regular-sized human, but this mutant would just wake up with a pounding headache. His lizard-like cronies would fare worse, especially when security arrived.

  “We need to leave now.”

  “Agreed.”

  Wyv spoke through Tem’s wrist comm. “Sir?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Terradol security forces are on their way toward to your presence with instructions to capture.”

  “Blast it,” Tem cursed.

  “Let’s go.” Bashir ran toward the hangar.

  Tem pressed a button on his forearm comm. “Wyv, booster up!”

  The AIof the Wyvern Star answered, “Affirmative, sir.”

  “A remote ship starter?” Bashir asked.

  Tem nodded. “It’s saved me more times that any weapon. Wyv, are you still connected to the station’s network?”

  “I am… now.”

  “Broadcast to internal security that I am headed for the upper corridor on the z-axis.”

  “Is that where are you fleeing?”

  “No, I am not fleeing.”

  “You are usually fleeing.”

  “What? No, I’m not.”

  “Yes, sir, you…”

  “Anyway, it’s a distraction. I’m coming to you. See if you can keep the bay doors open and power down the station’s tractor beam.”

  “I will do what I can.”

  “Remain on standby.”

  Tem and Bashir heard the fake broadcast on the security personnel’s private channel as two security officers walked past. They waited for everyone to pass, and made their way back to the landing bay. The concourse was more deserted after the wave of arrivals funneled into the station. Tem and Ahmad presented their identification to the gatekeeper, trying to appear bored and indifferent.

  As soon as the security officers passed, Ahmad shoved Tem forward. “C’mon, c’mon.”

  “Ready, Wyv?” Tem spoke into his wrist. “Open the doors.”

  The cargo bay doors opened, a collapsible bridge extended, and Tem and Ahmad ran inside the ship. The bridge retracted and the doors closed.

  One security officer appeared as a hologram inside the Wyvern Star. “Power down your ship! You were witness to an altercation at the Rookery Tavern and…”

  “Strap in!” The former Paladin yelled. He felt alive for the first time in a while. Tem plugged his suit into the ship in the pilot’s seat. “Are you ready, Wyv?”

  “Always, sir.”

  The landing strip was sealed off from the rest of the hangar by a force field wall.

  Ahmad gave a shriek of dismay when the hangar doors at the end of the strip started closing.

  “Go, go, go!” Ahmad shouted, but as the ship sped up, he succumbed to animal terror. “Stop, stop!”

  “No!” Tem focused on the diminishing gap as the Wyvern Star blasted off the landing strip. The ship bucked at lower speeds. Tem threw the accelerator forward, and banked ninety degrees to slip through the doors, which was narrow for the wingspan. Ahmad screamed again.

  “Will there be a pursuit?” Ahmad asked.

  “No idea. They must assemble their ships first. We can be out of sight if we gun it. I’ll scrub the Star’s credentials so we appear as another ship on waystation registries. If they are tracking us, we can seem to have disappeared, at least for now. Wyv, check for trackers.”

  “Yes, sir.” Seconds later, “All trackers deactivated.”

  Ahmad threw his head back and laughed.

  Tem switched the Wyvern Star over to autopilot and asked. “What the hell is so funny?”

  Ahmad chuckled and wiped the corner of his eye. “The galaxy has changed, but some things remain, such as your getaways are always too close.”

  Chapter Three: The Job

  When they were far away from Terradol Spaceport, Tem said, “We need a better meeting spot.”

  Ahmad glanced out one of the side windows. “Agreed. However, that was the only place I assumed we could meet where no one would care.”

  “Meeting anywhere is a risk, Mr. Bashir.”

  “Ahmad. Call me Ahmad. My family and I would be long dead if not for you. At the very least you’ve earned the right to be informal.”

  “Ahmad,” Tem said. “I thank you again for taking the time and considerable risk to meet with me.”

  “Considerable risk.” Ahmad leaned back in his seat and released a long, relieved breath. “But a risk you earned. My family and I cannot thank you enough.”

  Ahmad leaned forward. “Also, if you want to keep on living, you need to stop wearing that blasted suit. It’s a target on your chest.”

  Tem nodded and changed the subject. “I heard you invested in the right kind of rocks.”

  “Zostriacium!” Bashir chuckled. “The most valuable ore on the market right now. I got lucky. Very lucky. Are you really living in your cockpit?”

  “Can you blame me? Thirty minutes on a starport and I get attacked? I’ve been lying low the best I can.” Tem was silent for a moment. “So, what’s the job?”

  Ahmad leaned forward. “It is not much, but it is an important job and one that will allow you to keep your anonymity, if you choose.”

  “What is it?”

  “Protecting shipments of Zostracium which are routinely hijacked by Ler Pirates above Roschin mining colony.”

  Tem considered for a moment. “Ler Pirates, huh? Nasty bunch.”

  He had suspected his job would involve security, but this was more interesting than he expected.

  Ahmad rummaged inside his satchel, retrieved a collapsible holo-monitor, and activated the holographic 3D map of Mollostian Fields. “The pirates have target our shipments repeatedly for a year. Despite heightened security, they discover new ways to hijack the shipments.” Ahmad gave a helpless shrug. “Temirlan, security detail is far beneath your capabilities, but-”

  “Not at all. I worried my capabilities may have outlived their usefulness.” He shrugged. “It’s perfect.”

  Bashir pointed to the holographic details of the mining operation on the Mollastian Fields asteroid. “There are a hundred and fifty people living inside the colony. Most of the colonists are technicians who maintain and control the mining bots. There are a few administrators on site, who oversee the operations and to protect our interests.”

  Bashir rotated the holographic 3D display of the layout.

  “A single watchtower overlooks the colony and also houses most of the programmers. Beneath are a warren of mineshafts, which branch off around and underneath the colony. A large trench opens to the atmosphere several clicks below. The android drones and hover bots perform all the mining. We equip the androids and bots with cameras so the control supervisor can monitor everything happening in the mines.”

  Tem studied the holographic layout of the colony. “Do any humans work inside the mines?”

  “No, it’s far too dangerous. Everything is operated and monitored by technicians inside the watchtower.”

  “Who is in charge of the station?” Tem asked.

  Ahmad closed the layout and opened a roster of personnel files. He pulled up a dossier for a thin, middle-aged man with graying dark hair and a goatee.

  “His name is Vosper Chu. He is efficient, methodical, a good man who enjoys his job. I do not figure him for the traitor, but I have been wrong before. I want you to figure out who is the traitor and learn how and why they are contacting the Ler pirates. Vosper Chu will be your contact man.”

  “Is he aware I am coming?”

  “Not you specifically, but they know I will be sending a man to assess the damage. You will be an outsider, not part of the company security. No one there will like you nor trust you, because you are not a member of their contract company, except Vosper, who may surmise you are there to replace him, nor will the security force. I suspect most everyone here has something t
o hide.”

  “It’s okay,” Tem said. “I’ve been to a lot of places where no one wanted me.”

  The conversation ended. Both men went about their specific jobs. Tem performed routine maintenance on the ship while Ahmad used his holo-monitor to run his company. When they both finished, the Paladin prepared a meal of rehydrated roasted chicken in the Wyvern Star’s kitchen when Ahmad asked, “What have you been doing the past three years?”

  Tem looked out the window and into the vast darkness of space. “Searching for others who might be alive.”

  Ahmad nodded. “The same reasons most bad things happen to our species: greed, fear, and jealousy. However, from what I hear, the theocratic confederation is not as strong nor as stable as it wants us to believe.”

  “You remember that day when the galaxy fell apart?”

  Tem nodded. “I was in the midst of the chaos during that battle on Vival. My superiors told me to run that day. I stole this ship and blasted my way out of there as one of the last survivors of my Order. I reconfigured this ship and I need a new digital identity.”

  “Then why did you walk into Terradol Station with your recognizable armor.”

  Tem shrugged. “I hoped Terradol was far away enough that they no longer cared about Paladins, and that the people on the starport held no love for the new provisional government.”

  Tem viewed the display of the colony, which was still open on Ahmad’s holo-monitor. “How are the Ler Pirates seizing the ore?”

  “Once the asteroids mine the Zostriacium, we ship it to an ore processing station above Tenzen. They capture it en route.”

  “When would you like me to leave?” Tem asked.

  “We schedule the next ore train to leave by the end of every week. As soon as possible to get yourself acclimated to the life on the asteroid before the next shipment is ready.”

  “I’ve plotted a course for Mollastian Fields,” Tem said. “It should be a few hours.” He gestured toward the small companionway behind the cockpit. “Take the bunk. I’ll put a cot in the chapel for myself.”

  Ahmad rummaged in his satchel and pulled out a credit chip. “Your entire payment in advance, in case you need to run.”