"The stasis pit."
The cigarette fell out of Gomes's mouth. "What? Sarge, come on. You're kidding, right?"
"Two weeks."
"That's not fair at all."
"Another week for talking back. Keep going, soldier. Let's see if we can set a record."
He clamped his lips but they quivered. The others stood as still as statues.
She nodded for Gomes to follow and turned back to the door. Harrison's jaw hung open. She shot him a scowl and he snapped to attention but even so she saw his knees trembling.
She and Gomes marched down the hall. She did not hear a single sound from the bunkroom as if they all still stood at attention.
When they reached the elevator, Gomes finally spoke. He ran a hand across his thin, pale lips. "Any way I can talk you out of this, Sergeant Engstrom?"
She pressed the button again.
"How about just making it a week? I'll have learned my lesson. Stasis doesn't sit well with me. I'm dizzy for weeks after. Worst part of basic training for me. I promise I won't do that again."
"Oh, I know you won't."
Ten minutes later, after closing the door on the stasis pod, pretending not to see the tears in the corner of Gomes's eyes, she announced herself at the command center. Admiral Kronos, gray at the temples and stout with excess, squinted at her in the doorway. He wore a black jumpsuit with the bars of his ranks across his barrel chest. "So nice of you to join us, Engstrom. Next time, let us know so we can accommodate your schedule."
She looked to Smith. Surely he must have told Kronos, but the smug smile on his face told her that he had said nothing.
Kronos turned back to the holographic display mapping out the convoy. The Federation destroyer Poros was in the center position with the colony ship in the front of it. On either side of the colony ship were a handful of merchant barges, the ones who paid the fees so they could be escorted by the Poros to the Outer Colonies. At the tail end of the convoy clung the Acheron, the prison barge.
Connecting tubes created a web among all the vessels allowing for the marines to easily move between the ships in order to patrol.
All in all more than 6,000 people and several hundreds tons of goods in the convoy. But other than the hundred Space Marines on the Poros and a few watchmen on each of the other ships, the vast majority of the people were deep in stasis. Five thousand were on the colony ship being transported from Terra to the various planets in the Outer Colonies to begin their lives farming the soils or raising bug feedstock.
The thousand on the Acheron however had a different fate ahead: the mines of Telemachus-4, a one-way ticket with no chance of ever returning to Terra. The governing council argued that it was better than death by execution but Engstrom was not so sure. No one returned from Telemachus-4.
Kronos was explaining the schedule for the marine patrols. It would be three months before the slow moving convoy reached Carson, the first of the colonies, on their yearlong trip. Engstrom glanced at the schedule that floated in the hologram. She clenched her teeth. Once again, her team was given the worst shifts, staggered float ones that meant that her team would not have a regular schedule. They would have to wake up at all hours, and she knew how quickly that would erode morale.
"Admiral Kronos, sir," she said. "That schedule..."
He slowly turned from the hologram. "What about it?"
"Sir, I don't want to complain, but Marine Team 6 has had the float shifts the past three months. I know my team would function more efficiently on a regular schedule."
He cleared his throat, but the phlegm clung in the back of his throat, gravel grinding. "You know I served with your father."
"Yes, sir, you've told me the stories, sir. Several times."
She heard saliva swirling behind his cheeks and though for a moment that he would spit at her.
"Well, your father was a good marine. And do you know what made him such a good marine and allowed him to rise so high? Do you?"
She stood at attention. She knew not to answer.
"Well, I'll tell you," he said. "He followed orders. He may not have liked them all but he followed them. He did his job as his commanders saw fit for the good of the whole unit. And you know what that means?"
"Marine Team 6 will cover the float shift, sir."
Before Admiral Kronos could answer, Captain Toy stepped into the room.
"Sir, sorry to interrupt, but we have an issue."
Kronos circled with his hand. "Yes, yes..."
"We're picking up a distress signal from what I believe is a Federation Research Vessel. The Galileo."
"How far off?"
"Half a day. At the edge of the Federation Territory."
Kronos turned back to Engstrom. "You want something different for your team? Well you've got it. Wake your team up, report to the shuttle deck, and find out what the hell the problem is."
Chapter Three
FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER, the three salvage pirates huddled in the compression chamber. Snake wiped at the condensation on the outer window with his gloved hand. The chamber shuddered as the AI latched the Phaethon's outer door with that of the listing military vessel.
Snake licked his lips. His mouth was dry and sweat formed beneath his orange space suit. He should not have been nervous. It was not like this was the first time that he had docked with a strange ship to claim it as a salvage. How many dozens of times had he done exactly this over the last five years? Nothing ever happened. Unless you count that one time when Varissian pirates were waiting on the other side of the compression doors. He should have seen that one coming but in the end it did not matter. Fifi blasted the shit out of those emaciated scoundrels. They were outgunned.
He should have been used to this, but every time the same nervousness enveloped him: just like the old days as a Space Marine when they would drop onto the surface of a hostile planet or blast through the cargo doors of a rebel cruiser. Always the same nervousness, but he trusted it. It was what kept him alive - through the Manu campaign, the dying days of the Herbaria revolt, and even the botched assault on the RFV-17.
"We still sure about this, boss?" asked Fifi.
Like Snake, she was in her atmosphere suit, an obnoxious orange but modded with armor, her face slightly hidden behind the fog of her breath against the helmet mask. She cradled a huge gun in her arms. Snake never understood how she managed to lug that thing around, petite as she was. He imagined it weighed half as much as she did. But somehow she did and somehow she also managed to blow the heck out of anything in her way. She was the gun, and that was why Snake would do whatever he could to keep her on his crew.
Behind her, Crunch slouched so that his helmet would not bump against the ceiling of the compression chamber. He stood close to Fifi, an unlikely pair. Snake was still not sure how much he trusted Crunch. The man had the same drive to earn credits, but Snake was never sure how far Crunch would go. Snake just hoped that never meant the big man crossing him.
The computerized voice of the AI spoke with its Southern belle accent. "Fifteen seconds until atmospheres are equalized. Check your suits, ladies and gentlemen."
Snake touched his gloves and helmets seals quickly, always better safe than sorry, and then nodded his head at his companions.
He watched the indicator lights turning from red to yellow to green. The screen showed that the Galileo still had its gravity operational. That was good. Snake would have expected that to have disappeared with the hole in the hull but the ship's AI must have self-sealed the compromised sections from the rest of the ship.
Crunch grabbed the handle, spun it, and kicked the door open.
Snake crossed the Galileo's compression chamber and looked through the window of the door that led to the main section of the ship.
"See anything through there, boss?" asked Fifi.
The vessel was dark. Black as a pit.
"They got no lights in there," said Crunch.
"Stating the obvious," said Fifi. "Hope you're not scared
of the dark."
"Ooh, ooh, let's turn back. It's a trap. Out of my way."
Crunch pushed his way past Fifi and Snake. And cranked the wheel. The locks shifted behind the metal doors.
"Ready for this?" asked Crunch. He held an axe in his arms, his rifle and bandoliers slung across his back. The light from his headlamp glanced across metal walls.
"Just get out of my way," Fifi barked. "I'll need a clear shot if anyone is waiting for us again." She shot a dirty look at Snake.
Crunch grunted. "Better you stay out of my way, tiny tot. Might accidentally knock your head off with a back swing."
"You shouldn't bring an axe to a gunfight. Oaf." Her gun whined as it primed.
"Look, you little..."
"Enough!" snapped Snake. "We got a job here. You two can go back to the bunks later and sort this out."
"It's not like that," Crunch hissed.
"The thought..." mumbled Fifi.
A smile cracked Snake's lips.
That shut them up.
Fifi kicked the door opened and shone her light into the hall. She stepped through quickly and turned her back against the wall. She shot a thumbs up to her two companions.
"Let's do this," said Snake. "We get to the cockpit, and disable the navigation system until we drag it out of Federation Territory and hitch it to the Phaethon. And then we're on our way to Midasia and a shower of credits."
"What about survivors? What if there's anyone alive? What do we do?" asked Crunch.
"Better not be. Or else we lose the salvage. Anyway, you saw the size of the whole in the hull. You think anyone could have survived that?"
Crunch shook his head, but his meaty fists squeezed around the axe handle.
Snake punched him in the arm. "Easily a million credits for this ship. Maybe more if we get it to the right buyer. Turn that frown upside down."
Snake slipped past Crunch and followed Fifi into the darkened hallway. He tracked the walls with his spotlight, angling it down the long corridor. Nothing. The halls were empty.
No surprises waiting for them. When they got back on Midasia, he would enjoy a nice long smoke and a big flask of ship whiskey. He'd treat himself and the crew nicely. After the past few lean months, they needed a salvage like this. He also knew that if he did not come across a salvage like this that he was at risk of losing his crew as well. This was the treasure that he needed to find.
Maybe finally his luck was turning. Maybe the gods were finally smiling on Snake Walker.
He followed along behind Fifi, gun cradled in his arms.
Then he turned the corner and saw the blood on the walls.
"Oh, man," said Fifi. "What is this?"
She pivoted slowly, the light from her gun tracking along the wall, circling them.
"I see anything I'm going to hit it. No questions asked," muttered Crunch.
Streaks of blood covered the walls. Snake swallowed hard and spun around behind him, gun trained on the hallway through which they had just come. Then back to where Fifi and Crunch stood. The big man visibly trembled.
Snake was no stranger to blood. He had served in the Space Marines. He had led charges into the dens of holed up enemies. He had fought with his kukri when his gun had run out ammo. He had stood splattered in the hot blood of fiends.
But the blood of the walls of the desolate military ship bothered him.
There was a lot of blood. A lot.
The walls were coated. Thick and red, frozen in the lack of atmosphere.
He ran his glove along the wall and scraped the blood away.
Fifi pointed up with her light and he looked. The ceiling was covered. The blood had frozen like long stalactites.
"What happened here?" asked Crunch. "An explosion would not have caused the blood to splatter spray like. Definitely not coating the walls. Something else did this."
"We should get back to the ship," said Fifi. "Go back and call this one in. Get the military out here."
"And lose the salvage?" Snake hissed. "You gotta be kidding me? We finally get cut a break and you want to dump our fortune? Leave it for some other salvage operation to come along. Not on my life, kiddo."
"Who's gonna buy a blood-soaked ship?" asked Fifi. She crouched low, her gun and light pointed in the direction towards the cockpit. The blood painted the hall all the way to the distant door.
"We'll clean it up. Get some robot scrubbers in here when we reach Midasia. They'll make it clean as new."
"And what about the bodies?"
"What bodies?"
"If there is blood, there are bodies."
Snake bit hard on his lip. "We'll send them out the hole in the side of the ship."
Fifi shook her head. "They'll have families waiting for them. Wives and little kids wondering where their dads went. Wondering forever why they never returned home."
Snake kicked the wall. "Oh, you don't know that. You're making stuff up. For all we know there are no bodies on this ship anyway."
"Blood coming out of thin air..." muttered Fifi.
"Standing around here isn't going to solve any of our problems. We get to the cockpit. We turn off the nav system. Then we search the rest of the ship and figure out what happened here. I still say there are no bodies. The size of that whole, when the wall burst, everything that wasn't tied down was sucked out into the bitter black. Ain't no fairy tales out here. Just cold endless death coming for all of us."
"You go first," said Fifi. "I don't want to see what we're going to find."
"What's the use of that big gun if you are afraid to use it?"
"Who's afraid now?"
"Fine." He edged past Fifi and paused for a second. The door to the cockpit was slightly ajar. He swallowed hard and clutched his gun closer to his chest. No turning back now. Not with this prize in his possession.
Chapter Four
SNAKE FOUND BODIES in the cockpit.
The blood was thicker on the floor as he approached the room. Two chairs were turned away from him, but even so, he could see the blood-soaked arms hanging from the seat.
"Watch my back," he snapped at Crunch.
"We should get out of here," said Crunch. "Fifi is right. This is not worth it."
"You, too. Come on. We're here now. What's going to go worse than it already has?"
"I can't believe you asked that question." Crunch chuckled nervously, tittering like a little girl rather than the giant that he was. "Come out, come out, wherever you are."
"Stop that, man!"
Snake caught himself holding his breath and released it, trying to calm himself in the face of what lay before him.
He tiptoed carefully along the blood-congealed floor until he stood right behind one of the chairs. Then using the tip of his gun, he pushed the chair causing it to swivel.
The man, or what was left of him, was a mess. His chest had been torn open, exposing ribs and glistening.
Snake stumbled backwards, tripping on his own feet, and falling onto the bloody floor. He tried to jump up back to standing but his feet and hands slipped out beneath him.
"What the heck is it? What's wrong?" screamed Fifi and then she too saw the carnage, and let out a low moan. "I'm going back to the ship. We need to get out of here. This is all wrong. Snake, we gotta go. Snake..."
Snake could not move, frozen on his hands and knees, unable to break his gaze from the corpse still strapped into the chair. The man's chest had not only been ripped open, but his entire body cavity - heart, lungs, stomach - had been evacuated.
"The nav system," said Snake grabbing the door to pull himself back to his feet. He felt as if any moment his feet might slip out from beneath him and he would fall again into the blood. Only this time he imagined that the blood would grab him, its stickiness adhering to him, grasping as if it had a life of its own, and it would hold him down, a captive, for whatever had done this to these poor men.
Fifi and Crunch were halfway down the hall, jogging back towards the compression lock and the Phaethon.
"I'm not giving this prize up," Snake muttered to himself, his voice barely above a whisper. "I need a lucky break. And I don't care if it comes soaked with blood."
He took several deep breaths and then with slow steps, his hands steadied against the control panels and walls, he reached the main controls and squatted in front of the keyboard and touchpad, careful to not let his body touch the corpse in the chair behind him.
The screen did not react to his touch. He cursed. Not only had the main power crashed on the ship, but also the emergency power backup for the controls. He would need to bring a manual power line into the ship and jumpstart the control systems. Then he could black out the nav system and get the hitch in place.
Suddenly, his helmet filled with the voice of the Phaethon's AI. "Warning. A vessel has entered the Phaethon's observational perimeter."
"How long until contact?" asked Snake.
"Five minutes."
"Darn it, you useless bucket of parts. Why didn't you warn me earlier?"
"Warning: a vessel has entered the Phaethon's engagement perimeter."
Snake backed out of the cockpit and ran down the hallway finally catching up with Fifi and Crunch in the compression chamber. He slammed the door shut and cranked the wheel handle. Once the bolt locked into place, he ordered the AI to begin to adjust the atmosphere.
"Four minutes until contact," chimed the AI.
Snake cursed.
"We won't be able to get away," said Fifi.
"We can still claim the ship as salvage," answered Snake. "We were here first, and those pilots are dead. By the right of salvage, that ship is ours."
"Do we really want to claim it as our own?"
"Blood or no blood, the credits will be ringing up in our accounts. God only knows what kind of equipment might be on that research vessel."
Fifi pointed towards the bloody footprints that she and the others had left on the floor, the footprints leading from the bodies back to the Phaethon. "I hope they see it the same way that we do."
Alien Infestation Page 2