Red Star Sheriff

by Timothy Purvis

  The vessels reached the plasma shielding and slowly entered. First the shuttle. It landed on a pad on the far side of the docks. Aidele let the shuttle go ahead to avoid its maneuvering thrusters causing a visual wake around them.

  Then, she maneuvered the waverider through the shielding. She went slow, keeping an eye on the instrument readings as she proceeded. There were a series of three sparkles, and she frowned, glancing around. None of the crew wandering around the bay seemed to have noticed. She was nearly all the way through when they saw a sharp spark and heard the noises of the universe suddenly burst out in a split-second screech. She pushed through and guided the vessel to a corner of the docks that seemed unused. In the process, she saw a crewman walking towards the shields with his hand to his brow and an expression that said he’d noticed this last, strange occurrence.

  “Shit…” Aidele muttered.

  Grandfather pat her shoulder. “Land. Perhaps they will attribute the anomaly to just a glitch. But, I’m glad to be inside. Thought I was going to have a heart attack out there. I love the stars, but, for now on, I think I’ll leave them to their homes and me to mine.”

  Aidele nodded and set down as the shuttle ramp lowered to the deck. Then Berricks emerged with his prisoners. “Game time…”

  SAM STEPPED OFF the ramp and motioned for two soldiers to join him. As they hurried towards the shuttle, he noticed a cargo dockhand staring at the bay shielding. Sam furrowed his brows and walked over to the man.

  “What are you looking for?” Sam asked coming up beside the dockhand not even twenty seconds later. The man turned as he approached.

  “General Berricks, sir!” the man saluted.

  Sam waved him off. “Nevermind that. What’s the issue?”

  “Oh, no, no issue, general! I was just momentarily confused by a trick of the eye.”

  “Son, if you don’t tell me what you saw now, I’m going to have you sent to the brig.”

  The man looked startled, swallowed hard, and nodded. “Yes, sir. I really don’t know what I saw, sir. I… could have sworn I saw a bright multi-colored spark, mostly in purple and blue hues, right in the middle of the shielding. Where your shuttle entered. Trying to figure out if a shuttle wake could cause such a distortion. Especially the sound.”

  “What sound?”

  “It was like a growling, screeching noise. Didn’t even last a second. Like a window to a raucous party had been briefly opened then slammed shut a split second later… Sir.”

  Sam took stock of the shuttle bay, taking in every nook and cranny in view. He was almost back to looking at his shuttle when he spotted a slight shimmer in the back corner of the docks. Like a swarm of gnats hovering in place. Somewhat purple even. It lasted for less than a few seconds and then was gone.

  “Have a technician evaluate it,” Sam said after a minute, not taking his eyes off that spot. “Probably nothing but distortion, like you said. But better to be sure.”

  “Yes, sir!” the dockhand saluted and rushed off.

  Sam stood staring at the spot a moment longer, then headed back to the shuttle. His ‘guests’ had already disembarked and he motioned to the first trooper in view.

  “Guide ‘em out to the lift. Take ‘em to the bridge. I’ll be along shortly.”

  “What ‘bout our payment, Berricks?” Lynch folded her arms across her chest. “Ah don’ like bein’ ushered ‘round like a dog on a leash. Ah’m eager ta git back home.”

  Sam glowered. “Patience is a virtue, Lynch. You’ll get your pay on the bridge. After I take care of an issue first.”

  The group was led out of the docks while Sam headed to the control tower to this particular bay. Lynch and her group watched him marching across the bay across from them, his duster trailing out behind him like he was some dark lord on a mission of terror, his Grey Lance creating deep shadows across his eyes. That nagging thought of what he was missing had finally coalesced into a reasonable theory and he was about to find out if he was right.

  “THAT WAS A close one,” Aidele exhaled. “How long ya think we should wait ‘fer headin’ towards the brig?”

  Garret watched Berricks walking away, a nagging alarm growing in his mind. He placed a hand on Aidele’s shoulder. “Normally, I would advise the utmost of patience and caution. However, that gleam in Berricks’ eyes and his meaningful gait tells me he suspects more than he’s letting on. Look, he isn’t following the others out. Time is of the essence.”

  Aidele looked over her shoulder at him, a worried expression on her face. “What is it?”

  “We need to lock the waverider down now and get out of the docks before our team has been completely led out.”

  “What are you expecting?”

  “No time for details. we must be fleet of foot. Look, a maintenance corridor.”

  Aidele followed his finger to a doorway not far from their position. Its view was blocked by stacked crates. She immediately lowered the shields and grabbed an interface drive from the console before her. It was no longer than her index finger, but could send a signal to the waverider ordering it to lower or raise its shields, as well as triggering it to launch to their location. She and Garret dismounted and headed for the corridor. In the process, she triggered the shielding and the vessel vanished from sight.

  “Come. We’re almost too late.” Garret led the way into the corridor.

  Aidele followed close on his heels. “I’m so ready to git on with this and put that monster down.”

  Garret said nothing as he glared down at her yet continued his pace without slowing down.

  THE CURVING LIFT door slid open offering Berricks admittance to the bridge. He stepped off and crossed over to the raised command platform. It was two steps high and had the appearance of two black plates stacked one atop the other, the topmost being smallest. The edges of those platforms curved down and into the base of their foundations.

  The massive room was circular, but its ceiling and floors flat. There was bluish light in abundance with flashing diodes on curved consoles lining the walls and making up the forward command console just to the fore of the command platform. In front of the command consoles was a floor length viewport showing the exterior of the ship and the red planet slowly revolving far below. It stretched for a full third of the forward section of the room. Between that viewport and the command consoles, and treading three quarters of the bridge perimeter, was a singular rail with a boxy machine zipping around its length. It stopped at a rising pole and latched onto it to raise up to a pair of monitors near the ceiling. There, two metallic arms came out of each side of its bulk and interfaced with data ports built into the walls.

  Asta stood between Drevan and Durante as they were ushered forward upon Berricks’ entrance. She looked desperately for any other avenue of escape, but, as near as she could tell, there were only the two exits. The rampway across from them and to the back of the bridge rolling up and out of sight towards whatever deck was above. And the lift directly behind and to their right. There was another room behind them but from what she could tell, it was just a room with no other exit. Of course, that was merely based on the frequent back and forth trips some of the seven members of the bridge crew made. Not including the five soldiers holding them prisoner, of course.

  Beyond the viewport, dozens of starcraft went to and fro from the surface of Hinon and into deep space transit. Keeping watch were a half dozen defense ships. If only one or two would start harassing the Invicta, Asta felt she could take advantage of the situation. Her thoughts on their current predicament were pushed to the side as Berricks stopped in the center of the command platform and turned back towards them with a deep smile, his mustache bouncy in mock jovial camaraderie. She could see his reflection in the black floor as the soldiers around them took up flanking positions all around the command platform, their weapons at the ready.

  “Well, Lynch, why don’t you all come on up here for a chat?” Berricks growled in what she guessed he thought of as friendly, but held all the
menace of a wild manger.

  She sighed and led them up the two steps to stop on the edge of the upper plate. Drevan reached for a gun that wasn’t there. All around the flashing blue and green lights of the consoles reflected off the shiny surfaces. The constant strobing gave her a headache. Every alarm went off in her head now and she wanted nothing more than to shoot this man dead and leave the place in the greatest of haste.

  Berricks cast a gaze to a bridge crew member at the forward console and motioned to her as he pulled the journal out of his inner duster pocket. The woman hurried out of her seat and towards him. He handed the book into her waiting grasp.

  “Ensign, take this to Timon in archives. Have it digitally stored and sent to Philadelphia. Then, tell him to incinerate the damn thing.”

  “Yes, sir,” she saluted and rushed off the bridge via the lift.

  Durante’s mouth fell open, prompting a low chuckle from Berricks. “Something you want to say, Weiss? Not part of the plan perhaps?” Before Durante could reply, Berricks turned to a crew member at the other end of the command console. “Commander Kyle, contact docking bay seven. Tell Merrimiks to initiate Protocol Clean Sweep as we discussed.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Oh shit… Asta’s heart dropped, but she maintained her composure. “Ah don’ care what ya do wit’ that damn journal, but ah want what I asked fer now! It’s time fer us ta be headin’ back! Ya ken deal wit’ whatever problems ya have on yer own time!”

  “This is my own time, Lynch. And I shouldn’t think you’d want to be heading back just yet. You’ll miss all the generous gifts I’ve prepared for you,” he said clasping his hands behind his back and turning from them. Berricks walked across the sprawling platform to the side facing the right edge of the viewport. Out beyond and far to Hinon’s horizon, Phobos was peeking out. Below, the lazily spinning red planet was still shadowed in twilight as the Invicta continued its clockwise orbit. “It really is a beautiful world, when you actually look at it. Commander Riley, assume tactical command.”

  “Yes, sir,” a young woman with blonde hair near one of the wall mounted consoles behind them replied and walked over to take a seat at the command console, her shoes clacking deeply on the floor.

  Asta noted that, unlike Berricks wearing his Grey Lance and duster, the crew of the ship (aside from the soldiers) wore blue uniforms with gold trimming. The shadow of twilight rolled past the viewscreen as the Invicta entered the terminus of day. Asta could see the rising Mons range of the Tharsis Bulge.

  Berricks nodded. “Bring up an enhancement of Aquila Mons.”

  An image to the far right of the viewscreen zoomed in to give a high definition look at the capital city. The image was so crisp and defined, Asta could’ve sworn she could see the people walking around. The slight shimmering blue of the plasma shields surrounding the city was also very noticeable.

  “Say what you will about this planet, its technology is impressive,” Berricks waved his hand forward as if to unveil the splendor of Hinon like they’d never seen it before. Of course, for Asta, she’d never actually seen it from this perspective. It truly was impressive.

  “The Red Star… Did you know that’s what the Rossumi know it as?”

  “Who?”

  Berricks looked to Asta and for the first time seemed patient as he responded to her, “Now, now, Ms. Lynch. Don’t interrupt. You’ll miss the history lesson. But, to answer your question, the Rossumi were automatons who once betrayed Earth in their ambitions to be independent. Strange how cyclical events become throughout history. A power rises. A group of people rebel in opposition. They form a new power, only to fall to another rebellion. The Anunnaki hate us for it, but I see such growing pains as the necessary contribution of our race. Humanity’s ability to self-correct its mistakes is why we have dominion over Sol. And why we will command all of the local cluster sooner rather than later. The Union is the ultimate form of that expression.

  “But I digress. It took humanity almost a millennium to build that city. That glorious pearl of Mars, or, as you lot insist, Hinon. Nearly two-hundred years to hollow out that mountain, that ancient volcano once known as Olympus Mons in another age. It was known as that before Earth’s first real death, you know. Long before its full resurrection and we were given new life and a new chance to demonstrate human ingenuity. I can’t even imagine such an endeavor. It was long before any of Hinon’s modern technological accomplishments. Long before Professor Cooper Wilson. They did it by hand. Built those four immense overlooks onto Martian surface through prehistoric rock. Rock that, mind you, is more difficult to chip through than any you’ll find on Earth. Support structures were emplaced to ensure those overlooks’ longevity. Of course, it didn’t stop the southernmost from collapsing, though.

  “It’s why I chose Gülsen’s Point, you know. Such a flat region as a result. And the only region of Aquila Mons not also supported by emergency shutters. No, only the shielding keeps it in place. A flat run from the city itself to the dusty extremities of the surface. They have no security measures to block off that sector should it fail. Such a failure in oversight, it’s a shame. All of that just so they could make massive ‘windows’ out onto the world they risked everything to colonize.

  “Two-hundred years to carve out…” Berricks stared wistfully at the image projected before them. “Nearly another two-hundred to lay just the foundations. Only in the last three centuries has the glory of Aquila Mons been a jewel in the Sol system. Nearly eight-hundred years of Martian colonial efforts… The will of a people to survive in the most inhospitable of places.”

  “Is there a point here, Berricks?” Asta asked, her ire raising at his soliloquy and sweat beading on her brows. Drevan stared at the general with a deep look of disgust.

  Berricks turned to them and smiled more broadly. “Oh, I was just wondering, how long do you think it’d take to destroy?”

  Asta’s eyes went wide, her mouth curled, and she pointed at him. “Don’ ya even entertain it, ya sumabitch!”

  The troops surrounding them brought their rifles to bear awaiting orders to open fire. Berricks just started pacing tiny little circles.

  “On the ride up, I was thinking things over. I know you lot had a plan to lure me down to the surface. Honestly, I expected you to have tried killing me while there. But you didn’t.” He lifted a finger as in a ‘eureka!’ moment. “It occurred to me then, you wanted to come back here. But, why? To disable my dreadnought? Is that why you’re here, Weiss? To waste your efforts?”

  “No!” Durante howled, panic evident in his voice. Asta noted his hands were still bound and she cursed herself for that oversight. It was looking like they’d have to move fast. But, with his hands cuffed behind his back, it would to be difficult to get him out too. “I… I told you! The journal! I just want this to end!”

  “Oh, it will end alright. Let me guess, and correct me if I’m wrong, Ms. Lynch. The good professor figured out how to miniaturize that damned gravitic core. With regards to Ms. Wilson’s guns, it’s clear railgun technology was easy as pie for him. So, a gravitic engine probably wasn’t much of a headscratcher. What is it? A shuttle? No. Too obvious. No, it must be something else. Something the journal hints at but doesn’t spell out. Maybe a hovercraft of some sort?” He glared at them as they could only stare back in stunned silence. “No, too silly. But wait, what if it’s something sillier? Like, let’s say, a waverider? A recreational vehicle from Earth driven by that core, yes? Figured out a way to use the plasmic shielding as a cloaking device did you, Weiss?”

  “What? No, I—”

  “Enough lying. I went to the same academy you did. The same one, in fact, Professor Wilson attended,” Berricks’ grin broadened seeing the shock on Durante’s face. “Didn’t know that, did you? Just assumed I was some old hillbilly who let his guns and men do the talking. Oh yes, I graduated top of my class. Specialized in theoretical physics. Particularly in engineering applications with regards to furthering colonial efforts out beyond
the outer rim,” Berricks looked to Weiss who was staring at him in a deeper horror.

  “What, did you think I came to this damn planet for my health? Nope. And when that damn war broke out, I was drafted thanks to some obscure law. Drafted to be a war machine in service to Hinon’s quest for independence. Rebellions and power. It’s all cyclical.

  “Gawddamned huuks. Stupid policy, really. If you hold any sort of citizenship on Mars, you’re automatically signed up to serve. Didn’t know that at the time, no I didn’t. I was just a student fresh out of college and not even thinking about such things. It was a concession Grant had allowed to remain from old colonial times. Figured that the colony had the right to defend itself against pirates and cartels. A laudable intent when first drafted some centuries ago. However, they were a Union administrated colony. Subject to all the rights and privileges granted forthright. And given up for, what, independence? To deal with those criminal elements alone? Weak! He was weak!” Berricks resumed pacing, his face contorted by rage. “So, tell me, Lynch. Did Wilson’s brat fly that thing behind us into our bay? It’s the only logical conclusion given the facts and that only Union shuttles can enter our shielding network. Which means the damn thing is invisible to sensors as well as eyesight. Or, is it? She would’ve had a good twenty, thirty seconds to make good on our dropped shields, yes?”

  Asta straightened her back and fixed him with her own steely gaze. “Got no idea whatchou talkin’ ‘bout, ya blatherin’ fuck.”

  Maybe Aidele and Garret were on their way. Maybe if she stalled for time, they still had a chance of pulling this off. A whole lot of maybes. More disheartening, Berricks laughed as he turned back towards the command console.

  “I’ll give you this, Lynch, you’re loyal. Wouldn’t expect that out of a mercenary for hire. But very honorable. Don’t guess your man would say something, would he?”