Abyss Of Savagery

Home > Fantasy > Abyss Of Savagery > Page 13
Abyss Of Savagery Page 13

by Toby Neighbors


  Tallgrass was quiet for a moment. Dean could tell by her face that she was torn. He had known Eleanor Tallgrass to be an intelligent, caring individual. She had no qualms fighting for those less fortunate than herself, be they human, animal, or alien. Yet he feared there was more to her argument than just sympathy.

  “If the staff sergeant is right and the Pergantees aren’t slaves, why would they be here?” Adkins asked.

  “We don’t know,” Harper said. “I’m not sure we can know.”

  “But what are the possibilities?” Dean asked.

  “I’d say they’ve found an ally,” Ghost said.

  “The Kroll?” Tallgrass asked in disbelief.

  “Sure. The one we questioned said the Kroll have extrasensory abilities. They aren’t the same as the Pergantees’, but it’s similar. Like minds and all of that.”

  “The Kroll are nothing like the Pergantees,” Tallgrass argued. “They’re brutal predators.”

  “Exactly,” Ghost continued. “They have the attributes that the Grays lack. Physical prowess, aggressive natures, predatory instincts.”

  “And you believe it’s possible to have an agreement with the Kroll?” Tallgrass asked. “Do you remember how they responded to the diplomats we sent?”

  “Yes, I remember. But again, if the Kroll communicate telepathically, they may find verbal communication beneath them. Hell, they may not even realize we can communicate if we aren’t sending brain waves to them.”

  “It sounds like you’re stretching,” Tallgrass said.

  “So what are some other possibilities?” Dean asked. “I’m trying to see this from every angle, but so far we’ve only thought of the Pergantees as either victims or monsters.”

  “If they were captured and their fellow prisoners threatened,” Harper postulated, “they may have felt as though they had no choice.”

  “Their home world might have been threatened as well,” Loggins added. “You know, if the Grays don’t cooperate, then the Krolls destroy the planet.”

  “I’m not sure the Kroll have that kind of firepower, but it makes sense,” Dean said.

  “But if the Grays are victims, why torture our people?” Chavez asked. “How threatened do you have to feel to slice a person up and rip their limbs off?”

  “Kill or be killed,” Carter said, speaking up for the first time.

  “Why not insist on the Kroll doing it?” Ghost said. “That is actually something I would think the Kroll would be better at.”

  “It’s not the first time they’ve been accused of it,” Loggins said. “Even on Earth, without the Kroll.”

  “Perhaps they came to Earth looking for food in the first place,” Adkins said. “They abducted humans to see how we taste.”

  “This isn’t a joke, Corporal,” Tallgrass warned.

  “I’m not joking,” Adkins said. “We don’t know.”

  “The Pergantees said they were captured and held prisoner on this ship,” Dean said. “Why would they lie?”

  “So we don’t kill them,” Ghost said.

  “They have to be looking for a way off the ship,” Harper said. “If they’re prisoners, they may just want their freedom. If not, they want to escape because they see us as the enemy.”

  “We could let them leave,” Tallgrass said. “Allow them to build a vessel and go their own way.”

  “What if they warn the Kroll we’re coming?” Dean asked. “There’s a time and place for mercy—I’m not sure if war is it.”

  “We can’t lose our humanity, no matter what the cost,” Tallgrass said. “If we slaughter the Grays, we’ll be no better than the Kroll.”

  “And if we allow them to live, they may find a way to murder us,” Chavez argued. “I don’t see how we can risk that.”

  “But what choice do we have?” Harper asked. “Is it really either kill them or allow them to run free on this ship?”

  Dean understood what his Fast Attack Sergeant was saying. He didn’t think he could rest knowing a species with powerful extrasensory perception was on the same vessel. They could potentially take control of the crew. They could force their will on everyone, or have them turn on each other until the humans were wiped out. Worse still, they could turn the ship around, return to Earth, and rain down nuclear weapons until the planet was a radioactive wasteland.

  “It’s a lot to consider,” Dean said. “For now, I want you all to take turns over on the Hannibal. Get chow, get cleaned up, and see to your armor. Make sure it’s fully charged while you catch a few winks. We may not have another chance to see to the armor before we’re in Kroll territory, and we can’t risk taking it off. Dismissed.”

  Dean watched his platoon file out. There was a cloud hanging over them. Dean guessed it was suspicion, or perhaps fear. Both could destroy the cohesiveness of the platoon, and he wasn’t sure what he would do if that happened. Chavez was lingering and Dean waved him back over.

  “Say what you need to say, Staff Sergeant.”

  “You get the big bucks to make the tough choices, sir, and I’ll stand by you no matter what you decide—but I know what I saw.”

  “What exactly did you see?”

  “I seen guys get killed when I was a kid,” Chavez said. “I’ve seen guys beat to death on the street, their bones sticking out of their bodies, their heads caved in. I still have nightmares about it sometimes, and about the people I’ve known in service who died. It weighs heavy, you know?”

  Dean nodded, but didn’t speak.

  “What the Pergantee did was pure evil.”

  “What did you see, Joaquin?”

  “I saw memories of that creature cutting open our people with a laser. It cauterized as it cut, so the bleeding was minimal, but they sliced people open and studied their insides. And it wasn’t just the cutting, sir; it was the humor I felt when I saw it. That bastard tortured people and loved every damn second of it. Not just humans, either—I saw Urgglatta, the big simians we fought on Arkadis and here. And some creatures I’ve never seen or heard of before. But all of them were screaming, all were being sliced open and dismembered. Not for information—at least not on the Pergantees’ side of it. It was a sick game to them.”

  “So either the Pergantees are culpable for their crimes, or the Kroll are using them to do the unthinkable.”

  “That’s a fact, sir. I’d bet my life on it.”

  “You’re not exaggerating to prove your point.”

  “I swear it, Major, on the lives of the entire platoon. If anything, I’m holding back to keep from sounding crazy. It was the most horrifying experience of my life, sir.”

  “That’s saying something,” Dean replied.

  “Damn straight, sir.”

  “So then the question becomes: can we gain anything useful from the Pergantees? The enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

  “No, I don’t think so,” Chavez said. “A snake is a snake, and if we keep these bastards here, they’ll bite us the first chance they get.”

  “We won’t give them that chance,” Dean said.

  “I hope you’re right, Major. But I’m afraid you’re wrong. This time, I’m afraid we’re going to regret not blowing those little shitheads right out of the damn airlock when we had the chance.”

  Chapter 19

  The supplies had been equally divided. Admiral Masterson had picked his officers and crew. The rest of the unassigned crew members had reported to Dean and he had immediately put them all to work. He had a communications officer and a navigation expert overseeing the task force comms network. They worked in shifts without much to do, but they set up in the control center near Dean’s makeshift office and did what naval officers usually did. Dean didn’t try to understand; instead, he let it be known that they were responsible for the entire communications network, and if it somehow failed he would blame them. And he reminded them that he was armed at all times. From the smiles on their faces, he realized that he was not convincing when he tried to play the heavy.

  The trio of Kro
ll ships was slowing down for the agreed-upon separation of vessels, but while they were all still able to gather in one place, Dean called for a meeting of all the senior officers. Once again they met on the Hannibal, for no other reason than because the mess hall on the EsDef ship already had enough seats in one room.

  The admirals were present, along with their first officers. Esma was there along with two other controllers. There were several O&A Captains, but no one of greater rank, so the group had elected a trio of captains to speak for the group in senior officer meetings. The officers in charge of each Recon platoon were also present, as was Captain Parker, who was up and about after getting some much-needed rest and recovery after her ordeal at the hands of the security officers on Space Base 03. Corporal Franklin prepared finger foods and brewed plenty of coffee. Once everyone was settled, Dean started the meeting.

  “I trust everyone has seen my report on the Pergantees?”

  They all nodded.

  “I’m going to make a decision about them at the end of this meeting, but I wanted to hear from any of you with an opinion about them first.”

  “I will say something,” Admiral Aviv said. “As someone who shares a homeland with people who would like to see her own people wiped off the face of the Earth, I would caution against seeing the Pergantees as an asset. They bring little to our mission and the danger they represent is vast, in my opinion.”

  “It’s a damn shame things fell apart back at HQ when they did,” Admiral Masterson said. “We should have moved the Grays to a proper interrogation facility before the mission.”

  “But surely the Pergantees can give us valuable insight about the Kroll,” Esma said. “Can’t we get answers from them without endangering the mission?”

  “My people can,” Captain Grant said. “Turn them over to us and I’ll have them singing show tunes in no time.”

  “It’s too dangerous,” Captain Ortega said. “I’ve had a run-in with the Pergantees. I wouldn’t trust any intel you get from them. They’re master manipulators.”

  “They have a vast knowledge of these ships,” Admiral Matsumoto said. “Are they inclined to help?”

  “Some show interest,” Dean said. “My fear is for the specialists interrogating them. My own platoon is divided over the issue.”

  “Like I said, my platoon will handle it. Just give the word,” Captain Grant said.

  “From the videos you shared,” Lieutenant Jefferies spoke up, “I can’t help but wonder if they won’t use their telepathy to share information about us when we reach Kroll space. For that matter, they might be communicating telepathically right now and we’d never know.”

  “There are simply too many unknowns, Major,” Aviv said. “In my opinion, it would be best to rid ourselves of the Pergantees. At the very least, they should be sequestered where they cannot cause a threat.”

  Dean looked around the group. Each of them had their opinions, but there was no animosity over the differences shared about the aliens. Dean realized that most were probably just happy the responsibility wasn’t theirs to shoulder. Not that he could be in any more trouble with the brass than he was already in if he made a decision about the Pergantees that they didn’t like. Dean looked across the table where Captain Parker sat quietly. He knew she had taken the news about Colonel Davis hard, but it wasn’t like her not to share her opinion.

  “Vanessa, any thoughts?” Dean asked.

  “Not about the Pergantees,” she replied. “My only thought is that we’ve all sacrificed so much on this mission, and it’s too important to risk failing. We have to see this through.”

  “And we will,” Dean said. “Are all of your ships ready to go?”

  The admirals all responded, each one talking about their preparations for the rest of the mission. The cameras and radar arrays had been added to each ship, giving the commanders the ability to see exactly what was happening all around them at any time. The nuclear weapons had also been distributed to each of the longships, one for every tug vessel the Kroll ships had on board, plus a few extra just in case things went south and the commanders were forced to improvise on the fly. Dean sat through it all, listening as well as he could manage while the fate of the Pergantees weighed on his shoulders.

  Finally, Esma spoke up beside Dean. “The controllers have all been assigned to the various ships. They know their responsibilities and already have a rotation schedule in place so that two pilots will be on the bridge flying the ships at all times. During downtime we’re working on remotely piloting the tug vessels. No sense in sending us all on death runs if we don’t have to.”

  “Excellent,” Dean said. “Then I think we’re ready. The only thing left to do is separate the ships and ensure that our communication network remains intact even in FTL.”

  Dean spent the next half hour going over contingency plans. He was just about to conclude the meeting when one of the officers who had been assigned to Dean’s command center suddenly spoke to the group from the ship’s intercom.

  “Major, there is a problem in holding cell Tango,” the communications officer said. “I repeat…”

  Dean didn’t wait to hear more. He was on his feet in an instant and was dashing through the Hannibal while trying to situate his TCU into place. As soon as Dean ran through the tunnel onto the Kroll ship, he heard shouting. He knew exactly where holding cell Tango was and who it was housing. The Pergantees weren’t prisoners, but they weren’t free to roam the ship, either. Dean had issued a warning to stay away from the small, gray-skinned aliens, but he had known deep down inside that it was only a matter of time before the curiosity of the crew got the better of them. He had hoped that perhaps he would be proven wrong and that the Pergantees would prove helpful to Dean’s mission. He hadn’t wanted to simply execute them, yet he knew even before he found out what the problem was that his lack of decisive action had been a mistake.

  It took his TCU a few seconds to come online once he locked it in place. Dean knew that most of his platoon was on the Hannibal following his orders to get some rest without their armor. The only weapon he was carrying was the Martin 3A defense pistol strapped to his right thigh, but it was more than enough to deal with the Grays, if only he could get there in time. Once his TCU brought up the various vid feeds from the MSVs Dean had stationed around the ship, it only took a second for Dean to see what the problem was. To his horror, he saw Sergeant Eleanor Tallgrass with a utility rifle standing in the doorway of the holding cell. Staff Sergeant Chavez was there, blocking her from leaving the room with its curving glass wall. From behind the Demolition Specialist, who was still in her battle armor although without her helmet, Dean saw a bulbous gray head peeking around her legs.

  Dean reached the holding cell a few seconds later. Chavez wasn’t armed or even wearing his battle armor. He was in utility fatigues with his hands up, but he wasn’t moving away from the door to the cell. Suddenly, before Dean could intervene, a gunshot echoed down the corridor. Dean saw Chavez drop on his back, his hands holding his stomach as Tallgrass and the diminutive Pergantee jumped over him to escape the holding cell.

  “Stop!” Dean ordered. “Tallgrass, stop right there!”

  But Sergeant Eleanor Tallgrass didn’t stop. She sprinted down the corridor, pulling the Pergantee with her. Dean raised his pistol, but he couldn’t pull the trigger. From behind him a three-round burst popped. Captain Vanessa Parker was running almost as fast as Dean, and Tallgrass just managed to escape around the bend in the ring-shaped corridor before the shots hit.

  “Damn!” Captain Parker cursed.

  “Keep going,” Dean shouted. “We can’t let her get the Pergantee free.”

  Dean was kneeling beside his staff sergeant. Joaquin Chavez was arguably Dean’s closest friend. The Latino NCO had been hard on Dean during their first tour, but after Chavez had completed his Staff Sergeant Close Combat training, he had jumped at the chance to serve as Dean’s second-in-command. Over time, the big former Heavy Armor Specialist had become Dean�
��s sounding board and most reliable companion during every combat mission. Chavez had saved Dean’s life more than once, and as Dean considered whether to pursue Sergeant Tallgrass and the Pergantee she had freed or to save his friend, the choice was clear.

  “Staff Sergeant!” Dean shouted, the speakers on his battle armor booming in the corridor. “Don’t you die on me, dammit!”

  Chavez groaned, his eyes fluttering. The big man had a wound in the lower right quadrant of his abdomen. Dean rolled Chavez onto his side and saw an exit wound.

  “What the hell happened?” Ghost shouted as he and Harper came hurrying toward Dean.

  “Tallgrass freed the Pergantee,” Dean explained, “and shot Chavez. I’ll get him to the infirmary—you two get down to the holding cells and make sure those bastards don’t get away.”

  Ghost was already sprinting down the hallway, but Harper lingered.

  “Do you need help?” she asked, her concern for Chavez clear even through the comlink.

  “I’ve got it,” Dean said as he pulled Chavez up and into a sitting position.

  With one arm over Dean’s head, he wrestled Chavez onto his shoulder. Getting onto his feet took all of Dean’s strength, but he pushed through, determined to help his friend, and began a fast walk back toward the Hannibal. It took him nearly five minutes to get Chavez to the REC facility that had been converted into a med bay. And only after the big staff sergeant was in the capable hands of the platoon medic Robb Landin and the med tech from the Dunkirk who had been put in charge of the infirmary did Dean turn his attention to the holding cells where the majority of the Pergantees were being held. A quick scroll through the MSV vid feeds revealed that Tallgrass had freed the alien deep in the bowels of the ship in the room that had been used as a torture chamber. Dean hated to leave his wounded friend, but he knew there was nothing he could do for Chavez, so he left, determined to stop the Pergantees at all costs—even if it meant slaughtering the little aliens without mercy.

 

‹ Prev