The Chronicles of Benjamin Jaminson: Empires At War (Book 5 Part Two)

by Thomas Wright

  ****

  “Captain . . . Benjamin actually seemed normal,” Lieutenant Melanie St. James commented from her seat at the helm.

  “What makes you think that, Mel? He broke Johnson’s wrist.”

  “A broken wrist is nothing when he is around. Worse things than that happen. I also got the impression he didn’t want to hurt him but Johnson kind of forced it when he made a threatening gesture with his sidearm.”

  “Tell Johnson his broken wrist is nothing. Johnson was doing his job.”

  “He said please, and thank you twice, and called you ma’am.”

  “I know, but I’m not convinced of anything. Since when would you defend him?”

  “Captain, gimme some credit. I’ve never been around him hardly at all. But people are drawn to him, crazy or not. Look at Shawna,” St. James said.

  “Enough of that. Comms, report, how are the Jared and the marines doing?”

  ****

  Armor and weapons all accounted for. I hated piloting but could, thankfully. True to her word, they had the shuttle ready. Equipment stowed, I sat down and finished the departure checklist. “Comms, this is shuttle Deathstryke ready for departure.”

  “Say again? We don’t have a shuttle Deathstryke,” Melanie answered, taking the comm.

  “You do now. Make the designation. And Melanie, send me an updated navigational feed. I want to see where everyone is before I depart.”

  “Yes, sir,” Melanie answered. He remembered my name Melanie silently mouthed at Aisling.

  “You don’t have to call him sir,” Aisling said disgustedly in the background. “And you, mister, don’t get to rename my shuttle. You’ll be trying to rename the Warhammer next.”

  “I won’t. Besides, Alliance Destroyer Shitbucket doesn’t have the same ring to it that Warhammer does.”

  “You should have the updates and should probably go, sir. Captain’s face is really red,” Melanie warned.

  “Good luck, Warhammer. If Jared and his boys can’t handle it, call me. I’ll clean up your mess for you.”

  On that note, I had poked my finger in the wound and wiggled it around, figuratively speaking. Mission accomplished and now it was time to go. It had gone well: only a broken wrist and a pissed-off captain. Nothing new for the latter; I usually left her like that.

  The computer had all the info it needed to get me on my way. I departed, leaving the Warhammer looking like a tick on a hound dog. The World Eater wasn’t a battleship; it was size of two of them. Its biggest advantage was its sheer size. Its biggest disadvantage, the same.

  “Claymore, this is shuttle Deathstryke. Rendezvous at these coordinates and pick me up, pronto. Before the Warhammer fires on me.”

  “Deathstryke, Claymore. We are having technical difficulties. I advise evasive maneuvers until we are able to retrieve you.”

  “Very funny, practice picking your nose with just your thumb cause that’s gonna be the only finger left on that hand when I’m done with you. Deathstryke out.” I had threatened to cut off the rest of her fingers so many times she was probably immune.

  Chapter Three

  “On my mark, three, two, one!” Jared yelled and burst into the corridor. Servos whined in time with the Mark-6-type chain gun as it sang a deafening staccato of death. Armor-piercing rounds ripped holes in metal walls, ceilings and floors. Two more mechanized battle suits followed the last, shutting the airlock so three more could enter. Holding the cutout that had been the inner wall plating like a shield, Jared covered his men, deflecting the laser fire as they lined up behind him.

  They had cut their way right into the fifth level from the shuttle bay. The info Benjamin provided on the layout was all they needed. The mining control room in this case was shut down and all commands to the ship were now handled by the bridge farther down the corridor.

  “Short bursts, everyone alternate,” he yelled into his onboard com. Hydraulic piston rods, or rams, moved the heavy metal plates and bent the joints of the anatomy. A computer inside the one-man control center told motors and pumps and a million other working parts what to do to make it walk along with a smooth gait as it mimicked the driver moving inside it. Everything the driver did—reach, grab, squeeze, stomp, kick—the suit copied. It was clear the crew of this ship had never seen one before. Running in fear was not a stupid idea.

  Jared walked past the control room straight to the sliding doors that entered the bridge. It didn’t even move a millimeter, so he opened up with his weapon on the door controls, ripping the wall and controls to shreds. “Watanabe front and center!” he ordered.

  Li Watanabe was better than anyone in a mech suit. Having tuned his suit to work with his body, he moved almost fluidly. Pressures, stroke, valve timing, release, everything that would make it move was adjusted to suit him.

  “Kick it down and fall back,” Jared ordered.

  The first kick buckled the metal door. He backed up a couple steps, made another run and went through it. The door broke loose and flew into the room with Li right behind it.

  “Damn showoff,” Jared barked. He didn’t want him taking fire and risk a damaging hit to a critical location. Direct hits to joints where the electrical and hydraulic lines ran could cause a suit operator some problems. Then Li picked up the bent door to use as a shield.

  Two team members were posted at the airlock. Two others were posted outside the bridge doors as everyone else filed inside. With mech suits that stood almost four meters high and two meters wide, standing room on the bridge was at a premium around the doorway.

  “What are your terms?” a man in uniform asked, holstering his weapon.

  “Decrease your speed and prepare to be boarded. Again,” Jared said. “All weapons of any kind are to be delivered to us immediately. Send a tech crew to repair the force field in your cargo shuttle bay. That’s for starters.”

  “What about my people? What happens to us when you have our weapons and complete access to our ship?”

  “This ship now belongs to the Privateers. No killing and rape; we are going to pillage. The next group of boarders are going to go through this ship and take everything that isn’t necessary for this ship to travel through the black.”

  “So you aren’t going to kill any more of us?”

  “Are you going to cause us problems? Sabotage? Be a general pain in the ass? Truth is, the captains will decide what to do with you. Any Cjittan you have conscripted into working labor on this ship will be released. It will be you Khalnalax who will have the decision to make.”

  “You can speak for the captains and know they won’t have us killed?”

  “Let’s get back on track. Weapons and the force field. I hope we are already slowing down?”

  “Very well. I will announce our surrender and get the repairs underway.”

  “Captain, the bridge is secure and the crew is cooperating. What are your orders?”

  “Arrest the ranking officers and escort them to our brig. We will speak to them later. I want two of your men escorting each group of Privateers through the ship. Just in case someone forgets our rules.”

  “So we are protecting our captives from ourselves.”

  “We are protecting everyone from themselves. Benjamin would likely kill anyone that gets out of line.”

  “Where is he, anyway?”

  “His shuttle is headed for a rendezvous with the Generations ship the rest of the team is on.”

  “The plague ship?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “So it’s been cleared?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “Great.”

  ****

  “We will open a hole and arrive near Kanlost in three hours. Genius, do you think you can get any kind of message to them, letting them know we are alive and aren’t sick?” Adeen asked. Everyone was gathered on the bridge. They looked tired but healthy.

  “I will try, Captain, but if not, I don’t think we will have to wait long before they send a shuttle to check on
us. Won’t surprise me if we find a shuttle sitting outside our entry point and boarding not long after we arrive.”

  “You’re probably right.”

  “Of course he’s right,” Snake mumbled.

  “I will be so glad to not have to look at you anymore,” Adeen said, hearing him. “Go check on the monster. You two have become quite close over the weeks. Made for each other, I’d say.”

  “As long as it’s getting fed, not a problem at all. Poor-ass thing was starving. I should have fed you to it and that would have eliminated two problems. You being et and it being poisoned by you.”

  “Both of you need to calm down. Snake, do what she said and go so the rest of us can have a few minutes’ peace. You’ve been at each other’s throats for a month,” Angel pleaded. “We’re almost back with our friends. It will be good to see everyone. Don’t ruin it.”

  “Sorry, you’re right,” Snake said. “I’ll go find something to do till we get this beast parked.”

  “Snake, this ship will never be parked. I don’t know exactly how old it is, but it hasn’t stopped moving in thousands of years,” Genius said. “You don’t stop something this huge if you ever hope to get it moving again.”

  “Yeah, guess not.”

  “I think we’ll find a safe system with a habitable planet and put it in low orbit. Then we can set up teams, shuttle easily back and forth to the surface and establish a home base.”

  “And raid the hell out of enemy ships then come home with a ship full of booty!” Snake said.

  “Someone’s excited,” Angel said, smiling.

  “It just hit me how crazy I would be stuck on one of these ships for my whole life. It will be good to have a mission and to get on a fast ship.”

  “I for one will be happy to see my locker and some fresh clothes,” Adeen added. “Snake’s underwear are probably about to rot off of him.”

  “Captain, who said I’m wearing underwear?”

  Genius grimaced. “Damn, Adeen, why did you go there?”

  ****

  The shuttle powered down. Seat reclined, I waited. A mammoth ship would appear soon, like a leviathan crawling out of hole. We had lost communications with it, our own fault, but who is counting mistakes? If your life feels like one giant mistake after another, could it be argued, then, that they weren’t mistakes at all? Then that would mean I’ve never made a mistake. I knew it. Benjamin Jamison, philosopher. This must have been the way the Greeks did it . . . Idiot. I hope they hurry up before I have another epiphany.

  There was something bothering me, something that Doc Matthews wasn’t telling me, which was the real reason I was sitting out here waiting and not still doing time in the tank. Taz had her doctor inject me with nanites, or nans. Common knowledge. In the tank on the Warhammer I let myself drift in and out of consciousness as I meditated. I remembered hearing an exchange about the nans. He, Taz’s doctor, questioned Taz and made her sign something. I didn’t get what it was about at the time or give it much thought ever since but now . . . My legs felt stronger; my whole body felt stronger. I felt good after the last time I was banged up on Athena and the nanites went to work on me. It wasn’t nearly as bad as this time. My skin somehow felt tighter. When I looked at myself in the mirror I mostly looked the same, but I thought a little more defined. Were they changing me more than just making repairs and keeping my body healthy? Ah . . . hell with it.

  “Lorelei, where the hell are they at?”

  “I’m not even going to answer that. I told you . . . come to the Claymore and wait. But no. Now you’re sitting out there thinking and it’s scaring the shit out of you. The process of thinking, that is.” Lorelei must have wanted to get her shots in early.

  “I’m not doing a lot of thinking—”

  “No shit. ‘Bout time you admitted that. Come on, you can watch the Warhammer and our little group of Privateers buzzing around that big turd like flies on a fresh one.”

  “You’re in a good mood today. Now I get to sit here and think about that wonderful visual. You know, you shouldn’t talk about the others like that. Something happens to them, your cold heart will warm up for about thirty seconds.”

  “Thirty-five.”

  “I stand corrected.”

  “Benjamin, seriously. There is a plague warning; we haven’t had any contact. They could all be dead. And then you’re going to board it and wander around, probably catch something and die. Then Natalia will blame us and start shooting. It’s a domino effect.”

  “No, the others are safe. She’d probably just shoot you. For old time’s sake.”

  “Hey, gotta go, Aisling is patching the helmet cams through for us to watch. They attached a portable airlock. With those suits they can only go in three at a time.”

  “Sounds about right. At that, they are asshole to elbow. Enjoy the show. Jared and his crew will do just fine.”

  “What are we going to do with it once we have it?” Lorelei asked. “We were all wondering.”

  “I have a couple ideas. Ask Binda to give some thought to what we should do with the crew. Hey, looks like I need to go too. My ship just came in.”

  They had done the smart thing and arrived nowhere close to Kanlost. The Generations ship looked like a shuttle in the distance on the screen. I was intimately familiar with that type of ship, having spent some unwanted time on one. It was nothing like a shuttle. I brought my shuttle back online. Powered up, I headed out on an intercept course. Two hours till intercept, I checked to see if they sent me the feed of Jared and his team. It was there and I settled back to watch the Alliance marines do their stuff.

  The initial battle was short and sweet. Taking control of the remainder of the ship would take time, but most likely happen without incident if it was anything like the last five we took down. Once the bridge was taken and under control, it was clear orders went out for the crew to stand down. The Cjittan and the Khalnalax used their science to make armies of disposable soldiers to do the grunt work. It was odd Jared and his team hadn’t encountered any of those freaks with the tentacles. We might be Neanderthals, but we had mechanized armor, chain guns, railguns and lasers. Today in this tiny postage stamp of space we were the top of the food chain.

  The alarm alerted me to the arrival of the Generations ship. I had been dozing in and out for the past hour. It was better than thinking or talking to Lorelei. That wasn’t entirely true; I enjoyed the crew’s banter. She would say something far wittier than I could come up with in short notice and I would threaten to remove additional appendages from her body.

  “Warhammer, this is shuttle Deathstryke. Is the captain available?”

  “The captain doesn’t recognize the shuttle designation and would like to know who wants to speak with her,” Melanie replied.

  “I see. Well, you seem a competent officer. Let me explain my concern to you,” I replied, knowing Aisling heard every word.

  “Go ahead.”

  “If you’ve been paying attention over the last month, you should notice that Jared and his marines haven’t encountered any of the GEMS—”

  “What are you referring to? Just so I’m clear,” she interrupted.

  “The squid hoppers, GEMS. Genetically Engineered Modified Soldiers.”

  “Ok, GEMS sounds a lot better. Jared’s team is aware, anything else?”

  “Did you question the captain of the World Eater about it?” I asked.

  Silence.

  “I watched Jared and his team. Fast and efficient. They did good. Just something I thought of. Watching is different than participating. You get to analyze situations differently than when you’re in the thick of it.”

  “Noted. We’ll look into it.”

  “Thanks, Mel. The Warhammer is part of the team now. We have to watch each other’s backs. You should be Captain. Deathstryke out.” Ha, that will fire up the redhead listening in the background.

  “Shuttle 3, I have two messages from the captain . . . The first: Asshole. And the second, who named them GE
MS?”

  “I did,” I answered proudly.

  “I don’t think she believes you. Warhammer out.”

  “I don’t give a fu—” She cut me off. Probably a good thing. The ship in front of me didn’t look like a shuttle any longer. I needed to find the hatch and hope it wasn’t locked.

  “Claymore, this is Privateer shuttle Deathstryke. Searching for the entry right now to the Generations ship.”

  “Who?” Lorelei answered. She couldn’t resist messing with me.

  “Deathstryke. Log it in, cause that’s its name. Still no word from our people?”

  “We got a pigeon with a note tied to its leg. Beware the plague ship . . . stupid ass.”

  “Thanks. I’ll take care of it from here. You might want to get your affairs in order.” She really did have a valid point about entering a plague ship. Oh well.

  I eased the shuttle to the hatch the Claymore had identified as their entry point and extended docking clamps. This was a one-man operation, so I wasn’t going to take any chances with my ride. I suited up in my armor and put on every weapon I had with me before setting the internal atmosphere and gravity. I wasn’t going to deploy the portable airlock. If there was anything onboard still alive, I wasn’t going to give it a way to escape.

  I programmed the door to close automatically fifteen seconds after opening. I had the codes in my com to open it remotely when and if I returned. Most of the time we would tether a lifeline to the ship so if we missed or bounced we would only drift so far and could pull ourselves back. Or I should say we used to do things like that. Seemed to live more on the edge of late.

  My lifeline was coiled in a pouch on my belt. I pulled the hook, uncoiling the length from my waist to my hand held out in front of me. Identifying a place to attach it, I stepped forward, pushing off with the ease of having done it a million times. I turned on the magnets attached to my boots. This ship wasn’t sleek and smooth; there were plenty of odd surface structures to grab hold of. Landing a few feet from the hatch, I could see where the team had worked on it; burn marks and the shine of new metal stood out from the dark, aged metal surrounding it. Busting it loose from years of disuse must have been luck and some skill.