Blade of the Reaper: An Intergalactic Space Opera Adventure (The Last Reaper Book 3)

by J. N. Chaney

  “My analysis suggests that someone wants you to use the mask. It wasn't delivered to you by accident,” X-37 said, breaking the chain of my increasingly dark thoughts. “It has performed more reliably each time you dared use it.”

  “It wasn't delivered. I took it,” I reminded him.

  “Of course, Reaper Cain.”

  “You probably think you’re clever for a cluster of computer-enhanced nerve-ware,” I said. I was still deciding how I felt about this new topic. X-37 had confirmed my suspicions but hadn’t given me the tools to deal with what it meant. There were places in my soul I didn't want to go.

  “All of this, however, leads us to a much larger question,” X-37 said. “If your mother was merely kidnapped by agents of the Union, how would she have the ability to set something like this in motion unless she was more than you’re telling me?”

  “How can I not be telling you something?” I said defensively.

  “I can’t read your mind, Reaper Cain, and your emotional output is uneven—irrational to be honest. I detect dishonesty but have marked several indicators that you are not doing this intentionally,” X-37 said, echoing one of his common sentiments.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” I demanded.

  “You may be lying to yourself,” X-37 explained.

  I wished there was a physical version of X I could punch. “Whatever, X. Don’t quit your day job. Your psychoanalytic skills suck.”

  “Then explain why I am wrong,” X-37 said, refusing to back down from my churlish tone. “What prepared—or provoked—your mother to create this grand plot?”

  “I don’t have any answers,” I stalled.

  “Which only means she kept her vocation a secret. It seems your family has a history of this behavior,” X-37 said. “Regardless, whoever this person is, she has set a very narrow path for you to follow. One step in the wrong direction will lead to disaster.”

  “Thanks, that was helpful,” I said, then steered the shuttle toward the darkened facility where it orbited a desert world.

  The hallway curved ahead of me, following the shape of the station. "Tell me what I'm looking at, X."

  "We never went to this part of station two," X-37 explained. "We're going to cover a lot more distance on this away mission. You'll need to move faster. Jelly says that the Union carrier is accelerating toward our position at maximum possible speed."

  I ran at a brisk pace, aiming my HDK at intersections before reaching them, then angling out into the hallway to give myself a better view of what was inside before I passed the open areas. It was a technique we in the RC called cutting the pie. Simple, effective, and it worked on the move if you knew what you were doing.

  The trick was to see one slice of the next room at a time—as quickly and accurately as possible.

  "Good news, Reaper Cain. There is some residual power on this facility. Should make things much easier, including piggybacking on their security nodes. Scanning for enemy units," X-37 said.

  "Why would there be power?" I asked, suspicious of any good fortune.

  X-37 didn't hesitate to answer. "Because someone activated it by remote beam. The Union stealth carrier should have that capability."

  "Are they using it against us?" I asked, not slowing my pace. No matter what they saw, speed was still the primary tool in my toolbox right now.

  “Unknown. The third door on the right leads to the interior,” X-37 advised.

  I cleared room to room, moving quickly but not rushing. This was different from searching rooms with a team. This was running and gunning. I couldn't control territory I had taken. Instead, I checked over my shoulder often—not wanting to be the Reaper who let an enemy sneak up on him. X-37 did his best to help me stay alive by monitoring my feed and marking areas of potential danger.

  “You have been searching for hours. Union troops will be deploying to the station soon,” X-37 said.

  "Where are Jelly and the crew?" I asked.

  "Unknown. I believe they have gone dark and moved out of the area until we really need them," X-37 said.

  I had already searched the laboratory that resembled the one from the second facility. With the exception of a few specialist tools I gathered up for Tom, it was a disappointing haul.

  The only place left to search without going room by room were the dorms, storage areas, and comm room. It only had a small workstation and I wasn't hoping for much. I had already searched the station bridge and Reaper laboratories. There was less than nothing. I wasn't sure what they even did for the program on this facility.

  "I told you this was a dangerous waste of time," X-37 said.

  "Not helpful." There was no way to explain to my limited artificial intelligence that my gut told me there was still something there.

  "I can't stop you from being irrational," X-37 complained, “but I can inform you of such.”

  Thinking about the message that had been left under the bomb on the second station, I got an idea. “X, you’re fired.”

  "You can't fire me. I'm part of you," X-37 said.

  “Still fired.” The message had been don’t make me whistle twice for dinner. I realized in a flash where the next clue would be.

  “This conversation is beneath me," X-37 continued, “and we are running out of time."

  “I’m hungry. Which way is the cafeteria?” I asked.

  X-37 let out a faux sigh. "I am sending the coordinates to your HUD now, and I would also like to advise you that Union troops have boarded the station. How hungry are you? Because this really isn't a good time."

  "My mother used to whistle twice to call me to dinner," I said, already headed toward the station’s cafeteria.

  "Why didn't you say so?" X-37 asked. "In that context, it is obvious where the next clue should be."

  "Where are the Union troops?" I moved quickly, expecting to be challenged each time I reached an intersection. X-37 put up icons on my head, warning me each time I nearly encountered one of the patrols.

  "Good news, Reaper Cain," X-37 said. "None of the teams are moving toward the cafeteria. Apparently, they're smarter than that."

  "I'm embarrassed for them. Any good soldier knows to look for food first," I joked, feeling a better mood despite the unrelenting pressure of the situation.

  "I'm glad you're amused. I must advise you that we are running out of time,” X-37 said, then displayed several dots on my HUD indicating the increasing number of enemy troops on the station.

  "Don't worry, X. We've got this," I assured him, heading for the one place I knew my mother would hide a message just for me.

  Running between empty tables, I made for the dessert section. I wasn't sure how old the treats were, but they seemed to be sealed in their containers.

  "You're not actually going to eat one of those?" X-37 asked.

  "I should, but I gave up sweets on New Year's," I said, then lifted the chocolate chip cookie jar over my head. I slammed it down, watching the contents scatter. The delicious smell was tempting, but I remained focused. It wasn't just my life on the line now. Elise and the others were counting on me.

  Amidst the sugary confections was a small data stick. “What do you think of that?”

  X-37 processed the image. “It should be a match for the processor we recovered on the second facility,” X-37 said. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have a plan to get you off this station before several squads of Union soldiers close in around us.”

  I picked up the data stick. “What’s your plan?”

  “It starts with an escape pod or a shuttle, whichever we can find first.”

  24

  The captain of the strange Union carrier was thinking several steps ahead of what I might have expected from my previous adversaries. Could he have bulldogged us on the Jellybird and had his way? Sure. Was he trying something devious instead? Absolutely.

  “I think this character wants more than a kill or a capture,” I said.

  “Of course. The most likely scenario is that he or she w
ants something from you that you don’t have yet,” X-37 agreed.

  Nothing could ever be easy.

  “Who do you think he is, because I have my theory?” I asked.

  “There is insufficient data. I don’t do hunches and emotional outbursts,” X-37 said.

  “Are you giving me a tone? Talking down to me?” I asked, hurrying through the launch bay. All systems were operating on trace power, one notch above standby mode. My LAI had promised we could avoid detection by enemy ships until long after I boarded a shuttle and escaped.

  “No, Reaper Cain. Who am I to judge your propensity to make wild-ass guesses with absolutely no basis in logic?” X-37 said, mimicking one of my favorite phrases.

  “Let’s just call him Nightmare, because that’s probably who it is. He wants us to do all the work.” I believed the captain of the carrier was the cloaked figure from the gladiator match who had spec op commandos as bodyguards. More importantly, he had control of a special operations carrier, a class of ship I hadn't known existed until recently.

  The most recent report X-37 had forwarded me from Jelly’s sensors indicated it had very small fighter ships stuck all over the exterior of its hull. These sleek vessels wouldn't have much range or firepower but would be deadly for covert operations. I suspected they also doubled as quick insertion craft.

  With the number of Union soldiers currently searching for me on this station, I estimated they had a company of spec ops troops. That was enough to win a war in most places.

  None of that was my main problem.

  "X, why is my escape shuttle floating away?" I asked.

  "Two things: Jelly has located the identifying signal for the ship, indicating it is called the UFS Nightmare. More importantly, it seems the UFS Nightmare caused all shuttles—including the one you arrived in—to be released prior to your arrival in this bay," X-37 said.

  "The ship is called Nightmare?" I said, thinking about the name of the robed figure. "How unoriginal."

  "There's a certain logic to it. Think of them as a brand name rather than a person or ship," X-37 said. “I’ve found one hundred and nineteen references in my database of captains adopting the same name as their ship.”

  "I still think it’s lame. Remind me to tell this guy he’s an idiot if I ever come face to face with him,” I said. "But thanks, I'm sure that will be helpful later." I did a quick self-check of my gear and determined I was as ready for a spacewalk as I ever would be. Spacewalk, space jump—whatever.

  "Would you like me to calibrate trajectory?" X-37 offered, predicting my intent.

  I slipped inside the airlock and sealed the door behind me. There should have been a door to the shuttle in front of me, but I knew that when it opened I would see empty space and the shuttle drifting very slowly away.

  "I'm going to eyeball it," I said. "What I need from you will be specific instructions on how to get inside safely."

  "I'm pulling up the instructions now," X-37 said. “The hull appears to be a standard Union work craft without much need for security protocols. If a person has access to the shuttle bay, they have access to the shuttles and escape pods. Shall I provide the station SOP regarding this matter?”

  “Stop yanking my chain, X. You know how I feel about rules,” I muttered, bouncing on my toes nervously.

  Once my suit was sealed and the atmosphere vented to prevent explosive decompression, I opened the external door and braced myself for the icy blackness of space. Holding the rails and keeping my feet planted, I had one last chance to change my mind.

  For someone who was as afraid of heights as I was, the view made me feel a little squishy inside. It was different from standing on top of a building or a cliff, but still uncomfortable. Thirty thousand kilometers below, the desert world was yellow and orange with a few veins of red. In other circumstances, it would've been glorious. I'd have enjoyed contemplating it over a glass of whisky and a cigar.

  All I had to do right now was jump from this perfectly good station to a possibly derelict shuttle floating farther and farther away.

  Counting down from five to calm myself, I squatted deep, then jumped toward my target. Sailing through an environment completely devoid of atmosphere was quiet and peaceful. I checked the area around me and saw that all of the other shuttles had also been released from their moorings.

  "Make a note, X. Whoever's after us is thorough and thinks outside the box," I said. “Seems like he really wanted to trap me on the station.”

  "Agreed," X-37 said. "I have some good news. You will reach the shuttle. And even better, it is not complicated to operate the airlock. It was designed for this type of contingency."

  The shuttle was right there. The amount of time it took to cross the distance was disturbing because it felt like I was always almost there. And then I hit it and locked on with boot and glove magnets.

  X-37 coached me as I crawled around to the airlock and operated the simple mechanisms. As promised, there were no security codes to enter or other anti-theft mechanisms.

  Inside, I powered up the shuttle and did an abbreviated systems check. Moments later, I was coasting away from the station on minimum power to reduce the chance of detection.

  "Nicely done," X-37 said. “Please remain within the cloud of jettisoned life pods.”

  “Roger that,” I agreed. As my heart rate came down and I was safely away from the facility, I went over the ship’s functions more carefully. The planet and the station seemed to rotate, one in front of me and one behind me. I leveled off and kept the true course to avoid the nausea-inducing sensation while remaining in the drifting cluster of small ships for better concealment.

  "It's nice," I said.

  "It would be considerably nicer if you had a way to land on that planet," X-37 said. "Because this vessel wasn't built for planetary missions."

  I read through several menus. "It has to have an emergency rating. All Union vessels are required to be able to function as life pods, up to and including an atmospheric entry."

  "Of course. But the landing will be hard," X-37 warned. "The shuttle itself will be a total loss, which by Union specifications indicates it will be no more than forty-nine percent salvageable."

  I tried to raise the Jellybird without success. X-37 did the same.

  "From what I can monitor of the encrypted Union comms, I believe the Union troops have completed their search of the station and are now looking to the drifting shuttles and escape pods. Please keep in mind I don’t actually know what they are saying; my conclusion is from the patterns of speech and an algorithm comparing room clearing times with what I assume to be an elite group of soldiers," X-37 said. "I don't recommend changing course or drawing attention to yourself."

  "So we're going down," I said. “Like a rock.”

  "Correct. You will probably wish you’d died afterward.” X-37’s tone was distracted and I understood he was aggressively searching for solutions.

  “Probably,” I responded.

  “No matter how I run the numbers, this is going to be rough,” X-37 said apologetically.

  I listened to my limited artificial intelligence, telling myself over and over again that this was not the same thing as being in a high place. I could still fly the ship away from the plane until the gravity took hold. When that happened, all bets were off. The view was probably worth dying for though and provided some distraction.

  Even with the corrections I'd made, the shuttle slowly rotated. The powerless, unmanaged shuttles and escape pods spread slightly as the planet pulled on them. Lights came on all throughout the station, section after section.

  I saw the UFS Nightmare clearly for the first time. Our earlier observations had been from a great distance when its captain either didn’t care about being seen or had been trying to mislead us. What I saw now worried me, because the ship had remained nearly invisible as it made its final approach to our location. The UFS Nightmare pulled out of stealth mode—appearing much closer than I’d expected, and I understood its name.r />
  The ship was unusual, especially with the placement of its fighters and other small ships attached to its hull. What made it frightening was the size of it coming out of stealth mode. I'd never seen a ship that size concealed so thoroughly. This was something different from the Union I remembered. Apparently, they'd made advances while I was locked away on the Bluesphere Maximum Security Prison.

  "I think that ship is going to be a problem for us," X-37 said.

  "Honestly, we’ve been lucky. If Briggs had been operating from this thing, he probably would've caught us on Greendale. That thing has a lot of personnel and equipment to throw at a problem," I said. "We need to start planning our landing."

  X-37 provided a list of safety checks that needed to be made. I took some time getting the shuttle as squared away as possible. Every time I checked the viewscreen, we were closer to the planet and picking up speed. I also saw that the Nightmare was sending out patrols of the area, probably looking for the Jellybird and checking the escape pods they had released.

  "You should be experiencing the first layers of atmosphere now," said X-37.

  My entry into the desert planet went from resembling a lotus dream to an amphetamine-inspired nightmare as the shuttle was punished by each successive layer of atmosphere. Some of the heat shields broke off, but most of it remained intact.

  "I'm gonna have to steer," I said.

  "I'll assist you as best I can," X-37 said. “Unless you want me to take the controls.”

  “Not a chance, X. No offense,” I grunted, already straining to control the ship.

  “None taken,” X-37 assured me.

  The LAI linked into the shuttle’s controls and projected vectors onto the screen that I should follow. These were slightly different from what the shuttle suggested, but I trusted X-37 more. I did as he instructed and understood immediately that I'd been seen.