by Paul Rix
Garrett released the body which, despite being headless, twitched for a further twenty seconds before becoming still.
Controlling his breathing, Garrett found the SDM and quickly checked the soldier had not activated it. Upon closer inspection, it convinced him the device would have destroyed the magnetic containment field. There was no doubt in Garrett's mind, as he looked at the dancing plasma, that if this mine detonated along with the other SDMs he'd found planted on the ship, the resulting plasma storm would have destroyed Britannic.
He wondered how Delta could ever consider such an action? He had to prevent her from getting a second chance.
Chapter 35
The two guards ignored Trask's loud and forceful protestations as they unceremoniously searched him, Magdalena, and Maxwell before ushering them into the crowded control room.
Without asking, Maxwell went directly to Takahashi, who was still hugging her knees in the corner as O'Brien had described. It didn't appear as if she’d suffered any further injuries, confirmed by a thumbs up and weak smile from Takahashi.
Trask and his consort were guided to the main control console and shown where to secure their feet before Delta introduced herself with a friendly smile. "Grand President Trask, this is truly an unexpected honor. Not in my wildest imaginations did I think I would ever meet the man responsible for successfully delivering Project Exodus."
Trask's pale skin flushed at the compliment. "Thank you, my dear. I am most fortunate to find you on my vessel to welcome my consort and I to the Stellar Cluster. I disapprove of your guards' heavy handiness though considering my status. I hope their actions were nothing more than a simple error and you can show me that my life's work and sacrifice was a success."
Delta's face momentarily dropped its pretense at Trask's patronizing tone. "You may call me Delta. I am President D’Angelo's eldest daughter. I can promise you there will be plenty of time for you to learn all you wish to know. In return, it would honor us to learn from you about your time on Earth. Your insights and experiences must be unique and valuable."
"Of course. How do humans learn and progress other than from sharing experiences?" Trask lowered his voice, although the smile on his face didn't alter. "I would also like to understand the real reason you are here. I've heard some troubling rumors I hope you can quickly dispel." As he finished his sentence, he cast his eyes furtively toward Commander Stone and the second soldier in the room.
Delta didn't break eye contact with Trask. "I'm not sure what you've heard. I am here to welcome you and escort you to the president's palace to receive the plaudits you deserve. President D’Angelo thought it only proper that she send her eldest child to welcome such a venerated leader."
"I may have been in stasis for two thousand years, my girl but that doesn't mean my senses have diminished or that I am a fool. We both know you were unaware I was on board Britannic. It was a most closely guarded secret. All other arks had left Earth orbit before I came aboard. The only people who knew are on this vessel or dead on Earth to preserve my safety. Why are you really here?"
Maxwell noticed one soldier tense up at Trask's assertive tone, his hand moving closer to the lethal-looking weapon on his belt.
"You really want to know?" Delta asked. "You're right. We didn't know you were here. And we didn't know that the Britannic's life support systems would still be operational. No other PEA that has arrived since the initial exodus had any survivors. So, naturally, we assumed this ship was dead. I'm only here because the president regards these ships as embarrassments. Their presence only serves to remind us of the past and humankind's failures on Earth. While some of the population crave to know more about our time on Earth, we see it as a distraction."
Trask's expression faded as Delta spoke. "You can't erase history, my dear. It defines you. To deny it means you're always running from your true self. Afraid to look in the mirror."
"My mother is afraid of nothing. You, more than anyone, should know that genuine leaders have to make bold choices for the greater good. Often, those decisions aren't appreciated until years later."
"That is so, my dear. But we also learn to adapt in order to survive. And I would assume that, based on what you now know, your mission has changed. I'm sure you and your president will welcome all the colonists aboard Britannic who were lucky enough to reach the Stellar Cluster."
"You are mistaken, old man. The mission remains. I must destroy this ship before anyone discovers it."
"You would kill one thousand innocent people because of your president's irrational fear?"
"Did you ever consider how many people you killed or allowed to die?"
The purple veins in the back of Trask's skinny hands were standing out as he gripped the console tightly. "The choices I made allowed the human species to continue. You and your friends are evidence of that."
"Ten million? One hundred million? It's a terrible price."
"The alternative was extinction. The price was necessary."
"But not one you were prepared to pay yourself."
"I earned my right to be on Britannic. The colonists need a powerful leader. A person they trust and know has their best interests at heart."
"That time has passed. You're an irrelevance."
Trask's face went bright red. He looked as if he was about to explode with rage. Magdalena, concerned for her husband's health, stepped in before he said anything he might regret. Her tone was far more conciliatory. "Miss D’Angelo. We know time has moved on. All we are looking for is for everyone on Britannic to be given an opportunity for life. There must be room for compassion."
"I am being compassionate. My understanding is there are still about eight hundred people in stasis. They're oblivious to what is happening right now. They won't know if they're killed. It will be painless and swift. Surely that compares favorably with trying to find their place in a strange society. We have advanced in two thousand years. The discoveries we have made will shock you. Given the opportunity, most of the colonists won't be able to adapt."
"You don't know that," Maxwell said, unable to stay quiet any longer. "You're passing judgment on strangers with no knowledge of their circumstance."
"Okay, captain. You put yourself in my place. Imagine you came into contact with someone from an equivalent period in your past. Roughly, that would be people from the Roman Empire if my ancient Earth history serves me correctly. How would a Roman caesar or centurion adapt to life in your time? Could they even grasp the basic concepts of some of your technology?"
"That is an entirely different premise," said Trask, his composure not yet restored. "We're not barbarians. There is a smaller technology gap between you and me."
Takahashi nudged Maxwell's arm. "What's going on," she whispered.
Maxwell had been watching in horror as the argument unfolded. "Nothing that I didn't expect, Sakura. Grand President Trask is out of his league, but I'm not sure he accepts it."
"So we're as good as dead?"
"Don't give up hope yet." Even to Maxwell's own ears, her words sounded hollow.
Delta took a deep breath. "Trask, we're getting nowhere and I have no time to waste. My offer is simple and non-negotiable. I will take you and your consort on my ship to meet with President D’Angelo. She will have many questions, and I know the discussions will be mutually beneficial. Britannic and everything on board, however, will be incinerated."
"Oh shit," whispered Maxwell under her breath.
"And if I decline your offer?"
Delta's evil smile returned. "You are free to make that decision, of course. However, your fate will be that of Britannic's colonists. And that would seem such a waste, don't you think?"
"I'm not sure you're ready to kill one thousand people."
"We have recorded them as dead for a very long time. I can show you their names on memorials across the Stellar Cluster. Murdering corpses is not a crime. Now stop wasting my time. Give me your answer."
Trask looked at Magdalena, who gave h
im a nervous nod of her head.
"It seems you give us no choice. But I will protest your aggressive attitude with President D’Angelo. It is totally unacceptable and inappropriate behavior."
"I would expect nothing less." Delta turned to the soldier. "Please escort our new guests to their quarters on Scorpion. And prepare the ship for departure."
Maxwell forced her way in front of Trask. "You can't do this. You're condemning the colonists and your loyal guards to their deaths."
Trask's face was grim. "You heard Delta. You're all going to die, anyway. Better I save two lives than none so that the people may hear our voices."
"You know it's a trap. They'll kill you as soon as they have all the information they want."
"I don't think so, captain. I'm far too important. Once they realize that, life will be so much easier for everyone concerned. I promise to commemorate you and the other Britannic colonists. Your journey won't be in vain."
Maxwell looked on in angry silence as the soldier escorted Trask and his consort from the control center.
"Your grand president is a very pragmatic man," Delta said. "No wonder your people regarded him as a highly capable leader."
"I'd call him calculating and ruthless," Maxwell replied bitterly. Any hope that Trask would save them had disappeared as soon as he'd left the room. "I have a feeling that his life will not be as pleasant or as long as he expects."
Delta shrugged. "No one can foresee the future, however perceptive you may be. Now return to your friend and keep her quiet." She pointed her gun at Maxwell to reinforce the point.
"Commander, where is Pascale? He should have planted the last SDM by now."
Stone checked the storage device. "There's still several more minutes to complete the transfer. Jacobs, find out why he's taking so long."
"Tell him he has five minutes," Delta added. "Or I will leave without him."
Chapter 36
Garrett floated across to the soldier's headless corpse on the far side of the room in search of anything useful. There were no ID tags. He doubted if this soldier had any close family who would mourn him; he was sure the president's protection squad were not permitted any personal distractions, but he did find two magrail pistols and spare charging blocks for the soldier's plasma rifle. The weapons were special edition and more advanced than anything Garrett had used in the past. They would make worthy additions to his collection.
The immediate question was how to prevent Britannic's destruction. The dead soldier wouldn't be missed for several minutes, but it was only a matter of time before they sent someone to find out why he hadn't returned. Garrett didn't have time to wait around and pick off Delta's troops one by one.
The arrival of Trask and his consort only complicated matters further, despite the rational influence of Captain Maxwell as it meant he could not mount a full-scale assault on the control room. Grenades were out of the question if he didn't want collateral damage.
Gathering his belongings, he made his way to the central core and cautiously stuck his head out far enough to see the control room with two soldiers keeping guard. They hadn't moved in the past five minutes and continued to pay attention to the opposite end of Britannic.
Garrett was desperate to know what was being discussed between Delta and Trask. He could only assume that Trask was attempting some kind of negotiation. But what leverage did he have?
He didn't have to wait long for an answer to at least one of his questions. Spotting movement around the control room hatch, Garrett brought up his long-sight lens in time to see the sullen faces of Trask and his consort entering the corridor, followed closely by an armed soldier. The Trasks were being shepherded in silence and with no resistance along the central core until they disappeared down the tunnel leading to Scorpion.
While Trask may have saved himself, it was yet another sign that the endgame was fast approaching. There was far more urgency to make his move, even though he still had nowhere near enough intelligence about his enemy.
Cursing to himself, Garrett began his cautious advance, drawing ever closer to the lazy guards outside the control room. He was conscious the slightest sound would alert them to his presence, and there was no cover or protection to save him now.
Keeping his finger hovering lightly over the trigger of his newly acquired rifle, he inched ever forward.
His luck changed when he was only twenty meters from the soldiers. A buckle on Garrett's suit brushed lightly against the wall of the corridor; it was the briefest of scraping noises, but sufficient for one soldier to turn around in surprise. Garrett didn't hesitate. He squeezed the trigger, and the rifle fired an intense and compressed surge of energy that briefly enveloped the luckless soldier. Garrett had already set the power level to maximum and, to his relief, the soldier's protective armor could not withstand the energy pulse. From point-blank range, she stood no chance and was dead before she could shout out a warning.
Garrett quickly took aim at the second soldier before he could react to his comrade's demise and the photonic blast caught him squarely in the back, killing him instantly.
The force from the energy blasts provided enough momentum to send the lifeless bodies tumbling along the central core, bouncing off the walls as they went.
"Three down," Garrett whispered to himself as he swapped out the spent charging blocks for two fully charged units.
Garrett was now almost level with the hatch for the control room and was well aware he was an easy target should anyone have heard the blasts. His concerns were proved right as another soldier appeared. Reacting quickly, Garrett spun around and fired in one smooth motion.
The soldier had lightning-fast reflexes and dodged back into the control room, Garrett's shot passing over his shoulder and igniting an electronic panel in a shower of sparks.
Garrett's defensive training kicked in. He knew he was in serious trouble and had lost control of a situation he shouldn't be in. His ability to survive the next few minutes depended on his actions and those of the soldiers he was up against.
He was familiar enough with this section of the ship to know the only place to take cover was in the tunnel leading to Scorpion. But that meant he'd have an unknown number of enemy combatants behind him. There was at least one he knew of who had escorted the Trasks. They could effectively trap him in a pincer movement. It also meant he'd be cut off from Raptor as he'd have to find a way back past the control room.
The alternative was retreating to the reactor room. That was further to travel, and he risked being taken out while still in the corridor. It also meant he'd be too far from the control room to take any decisive action.
He chose the tunnel. Pulling himself inside, he quickly descended to the inner airlock hatch and sealed it. There was no way he was going to be ambushed from the rear. At least not without him being aware of the threat. That just left dealing with the contingent in the control center.
As he made his way slowly back toward the central core, it surprised him to hear someone shouting his name.
Chapter 37
"Mr. Garrett. You know you're outnumbered. Give yourself the chance to live."
It was a woman's voice, and she didn't sound overly friendly. Certainly not someone to be trusted. It had to be the president's daughter.
"Who am I speaking to?" he called out. "And how do I know you won't kill me?"
"My name is Delta D’Angelo. I think you already know I'm the daughter of President D’Angelo. I'm here on Federation business and your interference has to stop, right now."
"Since when did the Federation destroy important relics from our history or kill innocent people. We both know this is the final PEA that departed Earth. The historical importance is immense."
"That's no concern of yours, Garrett."
"I believe it is. I have an interest like any other person. Perhaps more so because I know the veritable treasure of Britannic."
"Which is?"
"The colonists. A thousand stories that can be shared.
"
"What can they tell us we don't already know?"
"You don't know what diamonds may be on board. You have no right to end their lives."
"You'll find I have presidential authority. More than sufficient."
Garrett briefly checked his surroundings to ensure he wasn't being crept up on. There was no sign of action in the corridor. And there was no clear view of the individuals in the control room "Does President D’Angelo know about the colonists?"
"That's no concern of yours. Now be on your way."
"I can't do that."
"What are you trying to achieve here, Garrett. Other than pissing me off."
"Something I don't think you're willing to give. Safe passage for Britannic and everyone on board."
Delta's laughter echoed along the corridor. "I didn't expect a retired Marine from Lafayette to be so stubborn."
Delta's knowledge of him came as no surprise. It was purely a formality for any citizen's information to be accessed. Even easier for someone in Delta's position. "You'll find I won't tolerate injustice being carried out."
"There's no injustice here. You're confusing me with some of the lowlife scum you chased in your previous time as a bounty hunter. Before your wife died. So, I'll ask you one last time to leave peacefully. Otherwise, I'll have no choice but to treat you as an enemy of the Federation and punish you for treason. Which, in your case, means death."
"I'll take my chances. You're already several soldiers down and I've de-activated all your mines. From my perspective, it will be far easier if you agree to depart."
There was no immediate reply from Delta. Garrett sat in silence, listening to the mumbled, angry voices coming from the control center as Delta discussed matters with whoever was with her. With a few seconds to consider his options, Garrett was happy to have decided on the tunnel. He had created a virtual stalemate with Delta who was unable to return to her ship without coming through him. The odds of a favorable outcome had increased, but he was still far from home and dry. Delta was unlikely to give up on her mission. The advantage she had was firepower. The question was, how many of her men was she willing to sacrifice? And how many could he hold off single-handedly?