The Deadliest of Intentions

by Marc Stevens

  Justice took us out of our base at high speed and jumped us to the star system of the once-secret Scrun slaver base. Signaling the base with our access codes, I verified our identities. I was surprised when Sushi commed us back and insisted on giving us a fleet escort in honor of our return. It was impressive to see the ten gigantic Sig battle cruisers move into a spearhead formation as Justice tucked us neatly aft of the lead ship. As we crossed over the horizon of the planet, we dropped from the formation and went into low orbit. When we boarded Eagle One, I told the Grawl they were not to discuss our mission or reveal any intel once they stepped off the shuttle. If any should ask, we were cataloging our salvage; say nothing more. All inquiries were to be directed to me.

  Justice launched the shuttle with the tow beam. Klutch was in the captain’s seat and let the shuttle continue falling nose down through the caustic atmosphere. I don’t think the Grawl scientists were used to such actions. The once chatty cargo hold was now quiet save for a few groans of discomfort. Klutch seemed to be having fun gliding the big combat shuttle sans the gravity thrusters. The steep, spiraling descent for the entrance tunnel brought the moaning from the cargo bay up several notches. Tria was in the other pilot’s seat giving the Tibor a sideways glance. I felt a slight thump when our dive went supersonic. I was standing behind him with an iron grip on the back of his seat, trying to keep my feet glued to the deck. The tunnel raced up to meet us at a deathly pace. The Troop Master nonchalantly reached out and engaged the gravity drives, arresting our fall and nullifying the negative gravity. This put a stop to the wail coming from the hold, and Tria’s stern look of disapproval softened. Once inside the complex, Klutch put us down in the large landing area. The noise now coming from the cargo bay did not sound like blandishments. It was more of a racket that one might hear from a lynch mob. The Grawl quieted as they debarked but all gave the Tibor a withering stare. He just gave them his usual goofy-looking toothy smile.

  We were greeted by a Sig military color guard and were escorted past rank after rank of Sig soldiers standing at attention. We were led to Sushi, who bowed.

  “Welcome home, clan members of the Sig people. You honor us with your presence.”

  I gave him a warm smile and attempted to shake his large hand. It was awkward, but he played along anyway.

  “Sushi, it is good to see you again, but the parade was unnecessary.”

  “On the contrary, Mr. Myers, the exploits of you and your people are held in the highest regard by all of the members of the Sig race. You are quickly becoming the favorite subject matter in many of our training classes. You are proof that overwhelming odds are an inconvenience and not a legitimate reason to retreat.”

  I winced at his statement. I did not want my insane exploits to be the reason someone would spit in the eye of certain death. Luck can be a very fickle ally. In our line of business, sooner or later, you will get yourself mired in a large, steamy one only to find that your last resort has run out on you. Instead of me spewing what I believed should have been the proper cautionary words of discouragement, I changed the subject.

  “Sushi, we are here to catalog some of our salvage. We are going to take items of interest back to our base for my scientists to study. We would like to get started as soon as possible with the items we stored in the former slave-holding area.”

  “Of course, Mr. Myers. This facility is at your disposal; our home is your home. If you need our assistance in any way, please let me know. I will let the security station in that sector know that you are on your way. Gravity sleds will be made available to you. If the number is insufficient, let me know, and I will arrange for additional sleds.”

  I thanked Sushi and looked around for my science team. Everywhere I looked, there was huge piles of salvage with corridors disappearing out into them in all directions. The salvage was piled about head high for a Sig but was more than four feet over me. That made it at least eight feet over the Grawl’s heads. The corridors were just wide enough for two of the eight feet by sixteen feet gravity sleds to pass each other. The corridors went in all directions and my scientists were scattered among them all. A lone Sig walked up to me, and I could see by his wrinkled appearance he was much older than any Sig I had met previously. He had what turned out to be a translator slung over the shoulder of his long, dark coat.

  “Greetings, Mr. Myers, my name is Dumaturamatsumer. I am the Sig scientific scholar in charge of this facility and the head cartographer. If you would kindly gather your people, I have gravity sleds waiting to transport us to section one-twenty-four.”

  I tried to let the scholar’s name roll off my tongue in such a way it might be properly pronounced with a certain amount of regularity. He finally held up his hands.

  “Mr. Myers, unless one is adept at speaking our language, even a translator will have difficulty adjusting to the subtleties of the Sig dialect. Pasta has long ago informed us that your species would rather label us with a title of endearment that is easily pronounced and memorized. So please feel free to do so now.”

  It was nice of him to make it easy for me, but try as I might, I could only look at my surroundings and come up with “dumpster.” There was no way I was going to pin a name on him that would insinuate the elderly Sig scientist was a container for discarded waste. My awkward silence alerted Tria to my conundrum, and she pulled me close.

  “Nathan, he is a senior scholar, and we should show him respect. Please choose wisely, because I believe all our future visits will involve interaction with him. Perhaps just senior scientist for the time being.”

  While Tria’s suggestion was appropriate, another even more so, finally came to mind. I squeezed her arm in acknowledgment, but she could tell I had made my decision. She smiled but was looking at me out of the corner of her eye.

  “Sir, I would like to bestow upon you an honorific from my home world. ‘Chief’ is a title used by the natives of my planet to show the proper respect to the most skilled and learned of our many tribes.”

  The elderly Sig stared toward the ceiling for more than thirty seconds before a big smile lit up his face.

  “I accept your title of seniority and leadership!”

  Turning to Klutch, I called out. “Troop Master! Get the scientists on the sleds. We are ready to go!”

  Klutch took off barking orders, and in no time, he had gathered our flock on the sleds. He took the controls of the second gravity sled and pointed forward. Chief took the controls on the lead sled, and Tria and I stood at his side. We quickly moved off into the maze of corridors at an alarmingly brisk pace that widened my eyes. He would occasionally press a button on the T-handle, and the sled would emit a piercingly loud beep. The security teams on the paths would quickly move to the side as we swiftly passed them by. Five minutes later we arrived in front of the pressure door that we had once blasted from its hinges. It was back in its proper place but showed the battle scars we had inflicted upon it. It also showed where the Sig had made multiple welds and repairs to get it back in place.

  We slowed to a stop well in front of the doors because a security squad of twelve Sig blocked our path. Chief spoke to them in his language, and they immediately stepped six to a side and came to attention. The giant door creaked and groaned as it opened. We moved to the front of the old security station and unloaded from the sleds. Chief approached me.

  “Mr. Myers, I will remain here. If I can be of any assistance to you for any reason, please do not hesitate to ask.”

  Going over to Graf, I leaned down to the senior Grawl. “Graf, divide your team up between five of the sleds. Tria, Klutch, and I will take the sixth. Meet me back here in two hours so we can determine if we will need more time or more sleds.”

  Graf turned away and called to his group to get them organized. I waved to the Troop Master to get on the lead sled. When I attempted to take the controls, he gave me a not-so-subtle nudge to the side. When I frowned at him, he gave me a big, goofy grin as an apology. I rolled my eyes and took Tria by the hand
and pulled her next to me. She put two of her arms around me and another on the Troop Master’s shoulder. She looked at me and nodded her head toward the Tibor, urging me to do the same. I sighed and reached toward the Tibor’s wide shoulder. I should not have procrastinated. The sled suddenly jerked forward, dumping me on my ass. If it were not for Tria righting me, I would have fallen off into the path of the trailing sled. The freaking Tibor never even turned around. The big oaf just went barreling down one of the paths to I don’t know where.

  6

  When I could see the back wall of the storage area looming in front of us, I turned and noticed there was no longer any sleds behind us. Klutch must have decided we were wherever he determined we needed to be and stopped. He looked at two of us and then pointed to a fork in the path.

  “Commander, I will search in this direction. Just yell out if you need me.”

  Tria and I stepped off the sled. Klutch took off, letting out a low, rhythmic croaking sound that I knew was the Tibor humming to himself. Tria and I took the opposite fork. Looking around at the endless piles of equipment, a feeling of hopelessness swept over me. Even if we found something useful, how could we possibly study it and verify its capabilities in the short amount of time we had left. I was second-guessing myself and thought we might be wasting our time fruitlessly digging in the trash of our greatest foe. That was when I heard a faint beeping noise. I turned around, looking at Tria, and she reached into her recon armor storage and pulled out a Guardian transponder. It was slowly, faintly beeping, and she looked at me quizzically.

  “Justice insisted I take the transponder with us. I suspected it was so he could keep track of us, but now I am unsure of his motivations. I do not know what to make of the signal it is emitting.”

  Tria started walking in my direction, and the beep grew louder. The repetitious cycle of the device slightly increased a well. As she got closer and held it out to me, the beep slowed. The volume also diminished to its previous output. A small frown crossed Tria’s face, and she stopped. She slowly turned around and retraced her steps. The transponder went up in pitch and frequency once again. Tria stopped when she determined the signal had peaked. I moved to her side, and she again held it out to me. I shook my head, and she smiled. She turned to the salvage on her left side and the transponder quieted ever so slightly. Turning to the right, the volume increased. Her eyes widened, and as she touched the transponder to the pile of junk, the beep increased. We started digging and throwing the collapsing pile of debris aside. The volume and cycle frequency increased as we dug. We were soon surrounded by salvage, and our path to the sled was blocked.

  We had uncovered several items that had to be weapons, but most were old and tarnished. None had any effect on the transponder signal, so we tossed them aside and methodically pulled items from the pile until at last the signal was a nonstop beep. There in the pile at our feet was a rectangular device one foot wide and twice that long. It was about eight inches thick and tapered on both ends. The unknown device had a ten-inch diameter megaphone shaped protrusion in the middle of it. Inside had what appeared to be a glass lens at the base. On its side was an indentation with three buttons. It had large heavy straps made of an unknown material. There were four of the same configuration equal distances down its length. It was obviously meant to be wrapped around something or someone.

  Tria reached down and touched it with the transponder. The beep promptly stopped. Whatever this thing was, it had to be of Guardian design or manufacture. I could think of no other reason for the transponder to specifically respond to it. Reaching down I tried to pick it up, but it took both hands because it must have weighted over two hundred pounds. Tucking it under my arm, Tria and I crawled up out of the mess we had made out of the pathway. As we reached the top, we saw Klutch making his way toward us, smiling.

  “Commander, I have found what I believe is a Kashuga plasma caster and three intact power supplies,” Klutch said, pointing back to his contributions on the sled. “The weapon and rechargeable power packs are much larger than I remember, but I am familiar with its operation and unique capabilities. As long as the projection tube is not damaged from overuse, it is a very formidable weapon.”

  Tria nodded to me then inspected Klutch’s find.

  “This is somewhat similar to a Kashuga weapon but appears to be of much better quality than the products they usually sell. There were several Kashuga on the last ship I served on. They are not like the Zaens, who sell the best they have. They are a mid-level advanced race that go out of their way to make as many credits as possible from any species they encounter. They built their reputation by manufacturing budget-oriented weapons for the open market. The plasma caster is one of their best sellers. The Coram buy it in quantity, then rebrand it to avoid the infringement laws. They make considerable profits selling it on the black market. Nothing they sell has ever been of this quality.”

  Klutch gave Tria a dismissive look and then turned his attention to the device we had found. “What is that, Commander?”

  I looked around to make sure none of the Sig security teams were on the same path with us. I leaned in close to the Tibor.

  “We are not sure. Tria brought one of our Guardian transponders, and it led us to the device’s location.”

  I handed it over to him, and he hefted it up and down a few times.

  “We could possibly bludgeon our enemies to death with it!”

  Shaking my head at the Tibor’s goofy smile, I told him to put it on the cart so we could continue our search. In the process of doing so, he inadvertently pushed one of the buttons. The device emitted a barely audible hum. Tria and I stared at the machine and started backing away from Klutch.

  “Klutch! What the hell are you doing? Turn that damn thing off!”

  The Troop Master’s lizard eyes were now the size of silver dollars, and his smile disappeared. He turned away looking like he was going to throw it. He apparently must have pushed another of the buttons in his attempt to disable it. There was a flash like a good old-fashioned camera would make, but the results of the discharge in no way encouraged me to say “Cheese” for a follow-up shot. On the pile of junk in front of us was a ten-foot-wide shimmering gray circle. Before Tria and I could say a word, Klutch dropped the device like it was a hot potato then dove headfirst into us, knocking us to the ground in an attempt to cover us with his body. Tibor weight in excess of six hundred pounds due to their unique body density. Tria and I groaned in pain as we bore the weight of the Tibor on top of us. That in itself would not have been so bad, but the tackle was accompanied by his warrior’s scent. Unfortunately for us, he had knocked the air from our lungs. Our next breath of air was vilely contaminated.

  We heaved the Troop Master off of us and crawled, retching for more than twenty feet before we collapsed into puking fits of anger. Man, oh man, when I was done puking, I was going to put my foot so far up the Tibor’s ass he would belch smart boot technology for at least a week! Tria recovered first and stalked toward the Tibor with all four of her fists clenched. Klutch held his hands up at her.

  “Tria! I think I know what the device is!”

  Wiping my mouth off, I stood to join Tria for the Tibor ass-kicking contest I was about to preside over. Klutch was pointing to where the bizarre circle had once been. It was now gone. I was still mad but now curious. My testy looks belayed just how hairy the trigger was on my right boot, and Klutch came right to the point.

  “Commander! The device is a transporter!”

  That put the brakes on the party I was getting ready to start. But I was still in no mood for bullshit.

  “How the hell would you know that?”

  “Commander, I have spent a great many years jumping in and out of hyperspace! That opening looked like interdimensional space!”

  Tria looked at me. “He is correct, Nathan. I concur with his hypothesis.”

  My anger quickly subsided, and common sense was firmly back in control. “If it is a hyperspace portal, how can
we be sure where it leads to?”

  Tria picked up the device and examined it carefully. “The portal was very short-lived.”

  “I have an idea,” she said, handing it back to Klutch.” “Point it back at the same spot as before. Wait until Nathan and I are ready, then repeat what you did before to activate it.”

  Tria took me by the hand and pulled me to the edge of the junk pile. She pointed upward, and we both carefully climbed up. We stood looking down at the Troop Master. Tria led me about twenty-five feet to the far side of the pile. We could now see the backside and an adjoining pathway. Tria told me to wait where I was and made several careful hops back toward Klutch’s side. I heard her call to Klutch to activate the device. She came bounding back to me and stood staring over the side. My interest peaked, and I held her hand and watched eagerly. Nothing was happening. I frowned and was going to tell Tria we needed to continue searching and we could play with it later. Suddenly the circle of shimmering gray appeared below us. Tria gripped my hand tightly and grinned.