Gabriel's Redemption

by Steve Umstead

  Rheaves staggered back under the blow and looked down at the ruined chest plate with wide eyes, feeling his cracked sternum and rib cage tearing into his lungs and heart. He fell back into a seated position, coughing and gasping, clutching at his chest with his functioning arm.

  Brevik took a step forward and stood over him, looking down with pity. “Shame you didn’t see it my way,” he said, and gave a kick to Rheaves’s shoulder, toppling him over onto his side. The mercenary gave one last gasp and died.

  On the other side of the room, Sowers and Jimenez had the two remaining mercenaries pinned against a wall, too far from the stairwell doors to escape. Jimenez had flanked that side, preventing their movement, while Sowers kept their heads down with timed pulses from his now-functioning rifle arm.

  “Galen,” Jimenez subvocalized over the neuretics comm. “Push forward one row of workstations on my mark.” He sent him an image of the plan.

  Sowers clicked in reply. Jimenez raised himself up on one knee and fired a few bursts from his pulse rifle. The energy bursts crashed into the wall above where Isham and Sheakely were crouched. Sowers jumped up and sprinted to the next row, now just a few feet from the mercenaries.

  Jimenez pulled a device from a waist pouch and sent a quick burst to it, arming the homemade explosive. A yellow light appeared on its black surface, and he leaned around his workstation wall and tossed it forward.

  The device landed a few feet from where the mercenaries were crouched and rolled forwards. Isham saw it first, and quickly reached over to swat it away. Just as his hand neared it, it went off. An electric pink burst sprayed from the device, touching Isham’s armored hand and traveling across the surface of his armor, sparks flying from every joint. The pink lightning shot from his other hand and caught Sheakely in the chest, her armor also lighting up with sparks. Both mercenaries screamed in pain and dropped to the floor.

  Sowers was moving before the device had hit the ground, and was on the two immediately. Jimenez sent a burst to his device, shutting down the discharge, and Sowers grabbed Sheakely’s smoking armor before she could swing her rifle around. Jimenez was right behind him, leaping on Isham and disarming him.

  Both mercenaries were alive, but stunned and in a great deal of pain. Sowers whistled softly. “Damn, Arturo, what the hell was that?”

  Jimenez gave a small laugh as he pinned Isham down by the shoulders. The mercenary was still groaning as smoky wisps came from his open collar. “Just a little toy I’ve been working on in my spare time.”

  Sowers raised his eyebrows theatrically, slapping restraints onto Sheakely’s armored wrists, cinching them tight. “Remind me never to ask you for a Christmas present.”

  Chapter 28

  Gabriel ran through the doorway to the hub, armored boots ringing off the metal decking. His neuretics scan showed Santander had just exited the hub and was running down the corridor towards the housing area. He ordered his armor into high speed and his pace quickened. His now-functioning pulse rifle was fully charged and armed.

  Entering the hub, he saw the door to the housing area was closed. He crashed through it, knowing Santander hadn’t yet reached the far end to the housing facilities. He skidded to a halt when he saw Santander standing in the middle of the hall, unarmed, with both hands spread wide.

  “You got me, Commander,” Santander said. “I give up.”

  Gabriel slowly walked forward, pulse rifle at the ready. “Somehow I don’t think it’s that easy.” He ran an active scan; no weapons or powered devices were detected.

  Santander smiled. “You know, in a different life, we could have been partners. We could have been on the same side.” His smile grew wider. “But you missed your calling.”

  Before Gabriel could react, a pistol appeared in Santander’s hand, springing from inside a hidden compartment on his oversized armor’s forearm. His neuretics screamed a weapons warning and his Mindseye superimposed a threat symbol on the gun. He began to drop into a defensive crouch, bringing up the pulse rifle.

  Santander fired, the clangggg reverberating off the walls. The railgun pistol’s hypersonic round slammed into Gabriel’s shoulder, penetrating the armor like a laser scalpel through plastic. He was thrown backwards as the round exited the back of his armor just as easily as it had entered. Shards of shattered carbotanium blasted a ragged six inch hole through the corridor wall, rimmed in Gabriel’s blood, allowing cold, howling air in.

  Gabriel landed on his back with combat armor alarms ringing in his head. His pulse rifle’s link had been severed by the round, and was completely offline. Sealants automatically covered the armor holes from within, and internal bladders expanded to apply pressure to the wound. His neuretics ordered pain meds to the area along with clotters, but the more immediate problem for Gabriel was the man standing over him.

  Santander walked up to the wounded Gabriel. “Wasn’t easy at all, was it?” He stepped on Gabriel’s shoulder, pressing down. “You’ve been a nuisance once again.” And with a rush, Gabriel’s buried memories flooded back to him.

  Gabriel saw the shadow standing over him in the school gymnasium, and the shadow cleared. It was Santander’s face, staring at him, weapon drawn. Gabriel shuddered at the memory, smelling the burning wood and plastic. After all these years, after all the pain, it all came full circle.

  “I’ve gotta run, I have a ship to catch,” Santander was saying. “I’ve got a dew operation to get back to, and some new friends in Argentina to add to the client list.”

  Gabriel started. “Dew?” he asked, fighting through the pain as the meds started to kick in.

  Santander laughed. “You didn’t suspect? Dredge fed you that bullshit about aliens to get you out here, to do his dirty work. Then brought me in ‘cause he didn’t trust you, and with good reason. His Argentinean masters have some master plan I don’t really give a rat’s ass about, but I’ll be expanding my Mars dew operation tenfold because of it.”

  He laughed again, glancing at the ceiling. “I friggin’ hate Mars, but it is profitable.” His face hardened. “You’ve been a pain in the ass once again, but at the very least I’ll get the satisfaction of killing you this time.” He raised the pistol. “Goodbye, Commander.”

  A muted click sounded behind Gabriel, and a small red hole appeared in Santander’s forehead. Santander’s face locked and he stared straight ahead, eyes glazing over. He dropped to his knees, and with a wheeze he crashed forward onto his face next to Gabriel. The back of his head was a pulpy mess where the round had exited.

  Gabriel rolled onto his side, looking behind him. Standing framed in the open doorway to the hub was his brother, Heckart in his hands.

  “Need a hand, little brother?” Zack asked, walking up to him.

  Gabriel slowly got to his feet, clutching his shoulder. “I never can top you, can I?” he asked with a small smile.

  “No,” Zack answered with a smile. “But feel free to keep trying.”

  Zack took his brother by his good shoulder and led him back into the hub, leaving Santander’s lifeless body lying face down on the floor, snow mixing with the blood pooling around his head as the Poliahu winds whistled through the hole in the corridor wall.

  Chapter 29

  The two men walked back into the Operations center, Gabriel holding his wounded shoulder. As they walked over the doorway threshold, Gabriel saw the wrecked workstations along one wall, pieces of plastic and glass scattered across the floor, surrounding the large mercenary’s crumpled body. He looked over at Brevik, who was fiddling with his pulse rifle attachment. Brevik looked back with a shrug, and went back to his repairs. Gabriel shook his head. Not the man to get into a wrestling match with, he thought.

  Approaching the center platform, Gabriel saw that the other three mercenaries had had their armor removed and were all secured to the holotable, sitting on the floor. Jimenez and Sowers were standing with them.

  “I have to go check on someone,” Zack said from next to him.

  “Sure thing,”
replied Gabriel. “And…thanks.”

  “You got it,” his brother said, throwing him a casual salute.

  Gabriel watched him go over to the corner where Lamber had dragged Vanheel and kneel next to his body, reaching out and closing Vanheel’s eyes with one hand. He felt a pang of sorrow for his brother, seeing the friendship the two had, but also Vanheel’s treachery, and had mixed emotions. Glancing over at St. Laurent’s body, which had been covered by a left-behind jacket, he understood.

  As he approached the platform, the doors to the stairwell opened and Takahashi entered the room, towing one of the mercenaries in restraints, followed by the doctor. He passed the prisoner off to Jimenez, who had him sit next to the other three on the floor.

  “Commander, am I glad to see you sir!” Takahashi said with a smile. He walked over to Gabriel and reached for his hand, then stopped when he saw the damaged shoulder armor and the look on Gabriel’s face. “Commander, you okay?”

  “I’m fine, Ensign, thank you,” he replied. “Everyone safe upstairs?”

  Takahashi nodded vigorously. “Yes sir, everyone’s good. Well, everyone except Sabra. Remind me never to cross one of the Polis.” He looked around the room. “Where’s Tee?”

  “Keven,” Sowers said, putting his hand on Takahashi’s shoulder. He started to speak, then simply lowered his eyes and shook his head.

  “Oh man,” Takahashi said, his face dropping. “How?”

  “Lamber,” said Sowers. “Long story, but suffice it to say he paid the price.” Sowers indicated Gabriel with his eyes.

  “Oh man,” the ensign repeated, setting his helmet on the holotable.

  “I know, son,” Gabriel said. “Tell me about upstairs,” he continued, hoping the change of subject took the young man’s mind off St. Laurent.

  “Uh, yeah, sir,” he replied. “Doc Gilchrist and I went out a back entrance from the lab, and one of the Polis showed us a way in through the outside…”

  Gabriel held up his hand as an incoming message flag popped up in his Mindseye. “Hold on, Ensign.” He allowed the transmission.

  “Commander Gabriel, thank god!” the excited voice of Ensign Giroux said. “We’ve been trying to reach you for over an hour!”

  “We’ve been…busy,” Gabriel replied, glancing around again at the mess of an Operations center.

  “The captain needs to speak to you, sir,” Giroux continued.

  Gabriel paused, looking down at the four restrained mercenaries. A plan was forming in his mind, but he needed just a few more pieces of information. “Tell Captain McTiernan I’ll call him back in five.” He cut the connection before Giroux could protest.

  “Now,” he said. “Which one of you is left in charge?”

  The Yongsheng had completed its braking maneuver around the far side of Poliahu, and now settled into a high orbit above the planet. The bridge crew went about their typical orbit duties.

  The comm officer called to the captain. “Captain Yao, I still cannot reach Mister Santander,” he said in Mandarin.

  Captain Yao sat in the battered command chair, smoking a thin cigarette. His tunic was open several buttons, exposing the top of his ample belly. He blew a smoke ring upwards and it collected near the ceiling, the bridge fans having seized up long ago.

  “Do not worry, Chin. We will hear from him soon enough. If we do not in four hours, we head home,” he replied. He stubbed out his cigarette in the overflowing ashtray next to him and reached for another. Doesn’t matter either way, he thought as he flared the cigarette to life. They were already paid in full. Santander can rot on that iceball for all he cared.

  “Chin, keep trying every fifteen minutes. Mister Pang,” he called to another. “Plot our course back to Earth. At sixteen hundred hours, we leave.”

  “Aye aye, captain,” Pang replied.

  Ran was trapped, having been sold out by the eyes of the other three. “I’m not telling you anything,” he said, still rubbing his jaw from Gabriel’s punch.

  “Thought you might say that,” Gabriel replied. He motioned to Jimenez. “Stand him up.”

  Jimenez bent over and unclipped the restraint holding Ran to the table, hauling him to his feet. He gave him a rough shove in the back and the mercenary stumbled towards Gabriel.

  Gabriel grabbed the man by his wrist restraints and dragged him off the raised platform towards the area where the team had been held prisoner. Reaching the wall, he threw him bodily to the floor. Ran landed next to St. Laurent’s covered body.

  Ran stared up at Gabriel with a sneer. “You can’t touch me, I’m a prisoner of war.”

  Gabriel shook his head. “No, you’re a hired gun, nothing more. I doubt anyone even knows you’re here.” He stepped over to the nearby workstation and picked up Lamber’s assault rifle, inspecting the oversized trigger pad made for combat armor. He turned back to Ran and pointed to St. Laurent’s body with his free hand. “She was my friend,” he said in a low voice.

  Ran’s face showed a flicker of worry. “I didn’t kill her, you know that,” he said flatly.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Gabriel said, stepping back over to Ran. “I need some assistance. You give it to me, and this will go a lot easier on you.”

  Ran swallowed. “I don’t know anything. Santander kept it all to himself.”

  “I don’t think that’s entirely accurate,” Gabriel said, and placed the muzzle of Lamber’s rifle on the mercenary’s knee.

  Ran looked down at the gun, and glanced over at the covered body. He took a deep breath. “Forget it, I don’t know anything. I told you that already.”

  Gabriel squeezed the trigger pad, and the rifle fired. The slug tore through Ran’s thin coverall material, destroying the kneecap and ravaging the tendons and ligaments in his knee, then blasted out the back side of his leg in a bloody wad.

  Ran’s scream could have been heard in any building in the colony. He clutched his ruined knee, whimpering as he tried to stop the blood flow. “You bastard!” he growled through clenched teeth.

  Gabriel simply moved the rifle over to Ran’s other knee, and smiled a death’s head smile. “Ready to help?” he asked.

  “Bastard,” Ran said again, tears running down his face. “Whatever the hell you want. They ain’t paying me enough for this.”

  “Excellent,” Gabriel replied. “Doc, give this man a hand, will you?” he called. “Now, where were we? Tell me what Argentina means to you.”

  Chapter 30

  “Captain Yao, Mister Ran is calling for you, audio only,” said Chin from the comm station.

  Yao stubbed out another cigarette and rose from his chair, stretching his back. Finally, he thought. We can get home.

  “Put him through on the overhead,” Yao said.

  “Yao, this is Ran. Mister Santander is, uh, unavailable right now, but I’m calling to arrange our pickup. Mission complete.”

  Yao smiled and switched to English. “Good Mister Ran, I send word home. Give details please.”

  After a few seconds, Ran replied, “Please send this message back to MacFarland immediately. We have complete control of the colony, and all of the laboratory facilities. The first team is dead and we’re arranging the situation to appear as if they were the attackers. The colony leaders have relinquished official ownership of the planet to Santander.” He paused again. “Santander will be returning to Earth on the Yongsheng, while the rest of us will remain here to monitor the changeover. Please send that along with your ETA.”

  Yao only understood part of the transmission, but ensured that Chin had received it. “Okay Mister. We send now.” He motioned to Chin. Switching back to Mandarin, he said, “Rebroadcast Mister Ran’s message back to the T-Gate station, encrypt for MacFarland’s account only.”

  Ran’s voice came back. “Expect the shuttle in approximately one hour.” The transmission ended.

  Yao reached for another cigarette. Finally.

  “Captain, they just sent the message,” said Ensign Giroux on the red-lit bridge. “It�
��ll take approximately four hours to reach Earth through the T-Gate comm chain.”

  The Marcinko had crept to within forty miles of the orbiting Yongsheng, in full stealth mode. All active systems were shut down, making it a hole in space. Only passive sensors were listening, and they had just detected the Yongsheng’s narrow-beam transmission back to the T-Gate.

  “Understood,” said McTiernan. He pushed his hat back on his head and rubbed his close-cropped hair. He watched the readouts on the wallscreen. After a few seconds, he said, “Lieutenant Commander Vaillancourt, if you will?”

  The first officer nodded and gave the order to the electronic warfare officer.

  “Uh, Captain?” Chin said.

  Yao sighed, turning from his walk to the head. “Yes, Mister Chin?”

  “Captain, we just lost our comm system. Well, lost isn’t the right word. More like it just burned out.”

  Yao walked back to where Chin was sitting and peered over his shoulder at his screen. Where normal signals would appear, standard in-system radio traffic, was nothing but green hash. “Well, that doesn’t make any sense. Have you run a diagnostic?”

  Chin started to reply, then was cut off by a screech of static over the bridge intercom. The four men on the bridge grabbed their ears as one. Yao looked up at the ceiling as if to find the source of the noise.

  “Yonsheng, this is the NAFS Richard Marcinko,” a voice boomed in perfect Mandarin. “Heave to and prepare to be boarded.”

  Yao stared at Chin’s screen in shock as the hash cleared and a radar image of a warship appeared. According to the readouts, it was less than fifty miles off the Yongsheng’s bow. An alarm rang out, signaling multiple weapons locks.

  “Captain?” Chin asked, looking back at Yao over his shoulder.