by J. F. Holmes
Tito helped Jack secure the airlock and test the station’s air supply. All was in the green. Except for some elevated argon and radon gas readings, normal for docks filled with ships and cargo, it came back within parameters. The crew decided to wear seal suits anyway, and with the collected weapons from the previous adventure, they were somewhat ready for the unexpected.
Darkness was revealed as they exited the ship and walked onto the loading platform. Infrared and ultraviolet sensors played out a panoramic display of information. Except for the residual heat readings from their recent docking, there was no activity detected. Tito and Saully moved forward to the main hanger airlock, and Rosia and Jack made their way to the docking terminal at the far end of the bay. It was unresponsive. Literally dead.
“I don’t like this. It should be live,” Rosia said as she tapped at the pad in frustration. “Going to be interesting trying to unass this place in a hurry without access to those lobster claws,” she said, referring to the docking clamps holding the large cargo vessel in place.
“I’m more interested in the lack of a welcoming committee,” Jack stated flatly. His gut was nowhere to be found on this one. His instinct said leave now, while his curiosity said stay and find out, but his gut said nothing. Damn it, where is everyone? You don’t leave the lights on and the streamer playing, then go on hiatus! Jack thought bitterly. His gut was still out on break.
The crew met at the main airlock after a quick check for anything out of the ordinary. They cycled through, two at a time, and nothing hampered the automated process. The large room the other docks emptied into was lined with tables, chairs, processing stations, and not a soul in sight. Jack motioned for everyone to move out and spread apart to avoid being one juicy target. Thermals and other sensor data still read nominal conditions and a clean atmosphere. They moved briskly through the passageway and onto the main concourse, toward the security station for this end of the docks.
“Alright, people, let’s do this by the book.” Jack paused as he examined the security monitors. Nothing but blank screens. “Even the security station is down. Figures.” Saully moved up beside him and tapped at the panels.
“Well, damn.” Saully finished checking the panels and moved toward the data port in the top of the main panel. He inserted a narrow chip, and the screen flickered to life. “Well, guess my antivirus malware is working. But for how long?” he said rhetorically.
“Tito, let’s get to the control center, or at least a hub, and find out what happened.” Though Jack’s voice was low and soft, it carried a lot of Marine insinuation behind it. The kind that meant his eyeballs were on the peeled side.
Tito took notice himself and set his mini-gauss rifle at the ready position. “Gives me the fuckin’ creeps.”
“Amen!” Rosia snorted as she helped Saully with the console.
“Just be careful, you two. I don’t know what I can get, but stay in comm range so we don’t get surprised,” he emphasized the word, surprised as the screens started to display data.
“Yeah. ’Bout that. You two melon-heads keep it on a swivel. Okay?” Rosia added.
The concourse led the pair to the usual shops and tourist traps for the visitors every station had. Further down, physical colored lines and signs in several dialects pointed to a control section. These directed them to a place off the central concourse and toward the main level, about six decks down. Down being the relative word, since in space down could be positional, gravitational, or both. After several minutes of careful forward movement, the pair started noticing piles of desiccated, ash-like material here and there. Scorch marks from a serious firefight, mostly small arms of the constable type mixed with heated flash marks of unknown origin, were peppered all across the walls, overhead, and deck. Some of them had punched through to do damage further on.
“Update, people. We have evidence of hostilities. Looks like a damned red on blue happened here,” Jack reported.
“Well, shit. I was about to tell you that dreadnought we happened upon is a counter virus. Like the kind you use to infiltrate and disable the enemy. But this one is a thousand times better than anything we had in the Corps. Be careful, Amigos.”
“Jack? I have movement. Three hundred at one o’clock. Just dashed behind a vending kiosk.” Tito already had his virtual pip on the area just ahead. Another dashed behind the first. “Make that two unknowns.”
Jack and Tito spread out and kept a wide angle between them in case it got hot. The two targets popped up and kept moving further down the way. Tito and Jack stopped and pivoted left at nearly the same time. Another target. Round and metallic in nature, swooping up past the overhead lights, then around the column.
“Gawddammit! Trying to trap us and draw us in! Watch it, Tito!” Jack shouted over the comm.
Too late to move completely out of the way, Tito was grazed by a nasty beam weapon of some origin. Jack watched as the suit sliced opened like a hot knife through butter. Tito had moved just in time to avoid a direct hit, and he had the trigger pressed as he slammed the silvery ball with dozens of gauss rounds in a few seconds. The ball splattered and burned as its propulsion failed. It hit the far wall with a crash of metal and boiling circuits. Jack spotted another and fired. His plasma pistol incinerated the bastard instantly. Tito was limping back toward cover as Jack continued to fire at yet more balls moving into view, their beams snapping eerily close as they dodged the return fire. The number of battle balls kept growing as Tito and Jack continued to burn each down.
“Get back to the docks!” Tito yelled at Jack. “I’ll cover you,” Tito said as he fired a long burst toward a group of six balls moving in tandem. They were still trying to flank. “Port! Fifty meters!”
Jack fired a dozen more times before he moved back behind Tito’s position. “Ain’t going nowhere without you, Sunshine!” Jack fired two shots toward a group of four and claimed two more kills. “Reload! I’ll cover!”
Tito swapped the box of tungsten micro balls, then sprayed a few dozen down the concourse. He limped back a few dozen yards as Jack plowed yet more silver beasts with plasma fire that were trying a low approach. They were adapting and learning as they went. He saw the pattern. Jack fired a salvo of burning death, then moved back himself. The silver bastards looked to be fewer now, like they were being worn down and couldn’t replace their numbers. His leg was injured, but the pain wasn’t there. It was like he’d just bumped it on a rail. He looked down and saw something spreading like a slow fire, but with no flame.
“What the fuck?” Tito exclaimed as his ankle fell off with half his calf. “Jack! I need the AMP kit now!”
“On my way!” Jack fired a long stream of plasma pulses, then sprinted toward Tito as beams snapped at his previous position. Jack reached into the med kit, pulled out a small band, and applied it at Tito’s knee, just below the joint. A quick press of the activation tab, and the leg below the knee was severed clean. Tito cried out in pain just before the endorphins were injected. The pain subsided immediately. “Hold on, I’ll haul you out. You provide covering fire.” Jack put the plasma pistol away and manhandled Tito onto his shoulder in a modified fireman’s carry, with Tito facing toward the rear. Tito immediately let loose a burst as Jack began his evac toward the ship.
“Got two more muthafuckas!” Tito exclaimed as he continued to fire. Another ball went flying sideways as Tito’s little balls smashed into the side of one and sent it spinning. “Move it, asshole, or we’re so dead!”
“Saully! We’re inbound with hell on our heels!”
“No shit! Silver ball fuckers, right?” Saully responded back.
“How’d you guess?”
“We nearly got roasted by a few, but they went down rather easy. Haven’t seen any since your last report.”
“Well, I’m hauling Tito,” Jack grunted out as he continued to sidestep blistering bolts of death. “His leg got hit by a beam and we had to cut it off. Be careful!” He was an old Marine, but dammit he felt like shit retreating
back to the ship without wiping these things out. He shifted his live load and kept jinking randomly in an attempt to avoid the incoming fire from whatever those things were. I’d give my eyeteeth to have fire support! he mused as the vending machine to his right turned to dust when several beams converged. His heart pounded as he stressed his legs and body to keep moving fast.
“RIGHT!” Tito yelled suddenly.
“Shit!” Jack dove right behind a support as multiple explosions rocked the patch of grey flooring they’d just occupied mere seconds before. These things don’t give up! he admired. Too bad they’re after us!
“Move it, Jack! One nearly buzz-cut my hair.” There was a split second of crackling air, a loud pop, then Tito yelled for them to hit the deck.
Jack and Tito went sprawling behind the narrow security desks near the main dock entrances.
Thwapkoom! Poppity pop pop poppity pop! The sound reminded Jack of an old Earth snack. Popcorn, if he recalled correctly. But the smell of melted plasticines and burning metal made it clear popcorn wasn’t one the menu today. “Where the hell is my pistol?” Jack looked at Tito for an answer.
“That’s what exploded.”
“What happened?”
“One of those things grazed the pistol and it caught fire on your belt.” Tito gulped hard. “So I threw it at them.” Tito giggled a bit. “Must have caused the power pack gods to be upset.”
Jack laughed a bit as he scrambled to get Tito back on his shoulders and headed toward the ship. He could see the others were having a few issues as well.
“Guess it’s a party!” Tito yelled out to the others from his perch on Jack’s shoulders.
“Ya think, Geronimo?” Jack continued to dodge and weave, nearly tripping on several piles of burnt alien debris.
The things seemed to dwindle as Jack and Tito made their way inside the main airlock doors. Rosia handed Jack a medical pack, and Tito was oh so glad to get the additional dose of meds as his missing lower leg began to throb. Saully shot down what seemed like the last few strays, and silence ensued.
“You two still breathing?” Rosia started checking over Jack as he was checking over Tito, who was at the point of passing out. “These motherfuckers are a bitch.” She surmised Jack had his ass intact, and she started checking Saully over.
“I’m fine, Rosia. Go get a few ammo packs for these weapons, please. My gauss gun is low on pellets, and the plasma pistol is dead.” Saully continued to check all the angles. “I think it’s over for now.”
“We need to get back in the ship and regroup,” Rosia said as she handed Saully a set of mags for the gauss gun and a new charge pack for the plasma pistol. “See what we have so far and make a plan to deal with this mess.”
“Not our mess of circus monkeys, Rosia.” Saully grinned. “But we have tons of data to go over,”
“Help me get Tito into the med bay. He’s still not in the best shape, and I can’t see if his ass is turning to dust,” Jack joked.
“Hah!” Tito choked out in his med-induced daze. “Your ass is already dusty, Jarhead Binks boy!” Tito laughed and giggled more, and then slumped sideways a bit.
The group had just closed the doors when their comms received a hailing message on the emergency bands.
“Attention unknown craft. This system has been quarantined. Stand to and prepare to be boarded. Any attempt to do otherwise will be met with lethal force.” The message repeated.
“Well, crap,” Rosia spat at the unknown as she helped Saully seal the airlock doors. “I’d better respond.” She turned toward to the ladder.
“Make it as neutral as possible,” Jack said softly. “I don’t think they’re unaware, but they sound itchy for a fight.” Jack pulled Tito up off the deck and made his way to sick bay. Damn, I hurt all over, he groaned to himself. Too old for this crap.
Rosia made her way up to Merlin’s bridge in case they had to boogie. Not that being locked down at a dock gave her much of a choice for boogie room.
“This is Rosia Young, captain of the Merlin’s Ghost. We read you five by five and will comply. We’re an unarmed cargo vessel with civilians aboard. Copy?” She pinged with her transponder and hoped like hell they didn’t open fire.
“Merlin’s Ghost, we copy. We’ll have our escort meet you in the docks.” The transmission ended.
“We have incoming visitors. Keep your eyes open for those silver balls of joy,” Rosia informed them. “Might have some help on the way, might be under arrest. Anyone have a challenge coin to toss in here?”
“Nothing moving in the docking bay that I can see,” Saully reported as he looked around using the mobile scanners. A gift from the late great Citizen Pratt’s stash of spy goodies. “Wish I could get a hold of a beach ball carcass. Gotta be some kinda tech to turn nanomesh-armored materials to ash, right?”
“Yeah, I’m all a quiver like a prom queen on her first date over those things. Just makes me warm and fuzzy all over,” Jack replied. He didn’t care about what those things were or what they were made of. He just wanted them reduced to slag as soon as possible, before they all became gray cinders. He locked down the medscan on Tito and injected some painkillers and more endorphins. “Tito’s strapped and tapped. Now let’s see what these guys do next.” He punched in a few commands and was able to see the ship’s cameras and sensors on the displays. Saully had killed their direct feeds to imbedded devices due to that dreadnought bug. Smart move.
Rosia was the first to announce the slim vessel sliding into the space around Merlin’s Ghost and the docking area. “Got a fighter-sized distortion of space moving in. Must be some type of signal cloaking or camouflage. They’re moving to the aft docking bay.”
“Merlin’s Ghost, asking permission to board from aft airlock.”
“Permission granted.” Not that they needed permission. It was mostly ritual and common courtesy. She enabled the aft systems for the airlock. “Be forewarned. Do not to try accessing the Stat –” A sound of gasping came over the comms, as if someone’s air had given out and was venting to space. The conversation turned nightmarish.
“Jerry! Close your helmet shield!”
“I can’t! It’s opening on its ow – GACJKShwoooisssh!”
“My suit’s autovent is stuck open! I’m losing atmo fast!”
“Sarge! My pack charges just activated!” BOOM!
Rosia felt the shaking as the charges pushed at her ship. No lights or warnings came on, but she could imagine what had happened. That team or group, or whomever they were, had accessed the Station’s systems and were compromised.
“You need to shut your systems down, now! Do not turn them back on! Get in my ship, ASAP!” she yelled in her command voice. She’d hope it made them hurry.
“I’m heading to the airlock, Rosia. Hey, Saully, drop what you’re doing and give me a hand. I’m gonna need your tech skills to keep these guys from blowing us up!” Jack made his way to the aft cargo area, then to the airlock that was cycling through. It looked like a dozen or so had squeezed in.
The indicator turned green and the door cycled open. The lot of them threw off their helmets in a coughing, wheezing, gasping parody of some idiot show he’d seen on vids about military training. He started with the nearest one and proceeded to instruct them on turning everything off and disabling any remote devices. Their suit gear was probably toast operationally. Too much vulnerable tech built in.
“Get out of your suits!” Saully yelled as he came in. “Right fucking now!” He started stripping what was apparently a young woman out of her gear. “You!” He pointed at a man to his left. “Strip and help the others. I mean it, boys and girls. I’ll put a plasma bolt through anyone who doesn’t!” He pulled power packs from their weapons, but received no objections.
“Who’s in charge?” Jack asked in his toughest Marine ass-kicking voice. The young woman Saully had just about manhandled spoke up as she pulled the last piece of clothing off.
“I am, now,” the buff and attractive young lad
y replied. Jack took note of the unusual strawberry-colored crop of fuzz on her head and smiled inside. Outside he was professional all the way, and though she was nude, she seemed nonplussed about it.
“Sergeant Denise Mills, Point Guardsmen Special Teams. We lost our captain, lieutenant, chief master sergeant, and two of our ordnance team.”
“Well, Sergeant Mills. I’m Jack, and that’s Saully. I suggest you get your people taken care of. Saully here will help you get your gear and suits debugged, and repaired or replaced if possible. He’s good at that.” Jack pointed at the storeroom toward the front of the large cargo bay. “You’ll find clothes and gear in there. Use whatever you need. Soup’s on in ten minutes. Don’t be late for the briefing.”
Sergeant Mills delegated her tasks, and to their credit, her team moved with confidence and precision. The debugging of gear and assisting the injured took priority, of course. Then rearming and assigning positions and responsibilities. In just under nine minutes, her team was patched, dressed, and sitting at the tables in the commons. Hot soup and breadsticks were being consumed with trepidation, but at least it was a start to their new relationship.
“Sorry to treat you so rough, Sergeant Mills, but we didn’t have time to use kid gloves,” Saully said.
“I understand that. In military service, sometimes there’s no time,” she said. “Thank you for your assistance.”
“We’ve put our vids and data on this data chip for you. Distribute it amongst your people. It’s what we’re facing.” Jack placed the chip in front of Mills and leaned back a bit, with a large cup of coffee in his hand and a cat on his lap. Evidently Sparky knew his laptime was overdue. The visitors either ignored him or didn’t care.
“I have two of our people monitoring and guarding the airlock to the station.” She looked into her own coffee and spoke carefully. “Our own craft. Our picket ship is…was destroyed by the coopted charges.” Mills looked at Jack hard. “Our comms are down and we can’t reach our command.”