Abyss Of Savagery

by Toby Neighbors

  “That’s impossible to know, Admiral,” the med tech said. “We simply don’t have enough information. But in my opinion, any activity that can trigger a dormant area of the human brain without direct intervention would, by its very nature, be significant.”

  “Who is this idiot?” Dean heard Captain Grant say to his staff sergeant, a tall Egyptian named Furoke. “An enlisted mop pusher turned medical expert. This entire proceeding is a joke.”

  Dean ignored the arrogant captain. He was in the Ready Room on the Hannibal where the hearing had been set up. The entire contents of the Ready Room had been removed and divided between the Recon platoons on the three Kroll ships, making it one of the few empty spaces on the EsDef escort ship. Chairs had been brought in. Two large vid screens were mounted on the wall, one showing Admiral Aviv, the other Admiral Masterson. Vice Admiral Anders was present as an observer like Dean, as was Captain Grant and Captain Ortega, along with their staff sergeants.

  Admiral Matsumoto led the hearing from a chair behind the Recon workbench, while Tallgrass stood in a designated spot where she could be seen by all three admirals. Dean thought she looked haggard and guessed she hadn’t been able to sleep. Her battle armor had been removed, and she wore a set of baggy utility fatigues. Her normally glossy black hair was tangled and dirty-looking. Her eyes were red and her face puffy. She looked, at least in Dean’s opinion, like a defeated person. And while her guilt or innocence had not yet been determined, it was an indisputable fact that she had shot and almost killed Staff Sergeant Chavez.

  Dean had been happy to hear that his big friend had survived the night. The med tech had explained to Dean just before the disciplinary hearing that Chavez would need a second surgery if he was found to be strong enough. He had lost a significant amount of blood from his wound, and the long surgery had taken a toll on his strength, but Dean was confident his friend would pull through. If there was one thing he knew for certain about Staff Sergeant Joaquin Chavez, it was that the big CCS was a fighter.

  “We’ve seen the interrogation from Major Blaze,” Matsumoto said. “We’re aware of your assertion that you were under the control of the Pergantee during the events we are here to judge. What do you have to say for yourself, Sergeant Tallgrass?”

  “I want to say that I deeply regret my actions,” Eleanor said, looking directly at Admiral Matsumoto. “I was under the control of a powerful creature, but that doesn’t alter the fact that I betrayed my platoon and shot my staff sergeant in order to aid the Pergantees in their escape. I can do no more than submit myself to the judgment of this committee and ask the forgiveness of my friends.”

  “You don’t remember your actions?” Admiral Masterson asked.

  “I remember them, but it was like I was watching myself in a dream.”

  “Can you give us any proof as to your assertions that you weren’t in control during the escape attempt?” Admiral Aviv asked.

  “No proof, other than the actions themselves. I would never do anything to hurt my platoon mates or bring dishonor on the service.”

  “But we’ve seen video of you passionately defending the Pergantees,” Aviv continued.

  “I did. I was wrong. I admit that the arguments I made at the time were very close to how I actually felt, which is perhaps why I didn’t realize I was being manipulated. But I’ve come to see that I was wrong about the Pergantees. They are dangerous creatures.”

  “You have an exemplary service record, Sergeant,” Matsumoto said. “Nearly a decade in OWFR, and a long list of commendations by your platoon commanders, including Major Blaze. Unfortunately, we have no proof that you didn’t commit these crimes of your own free will.”

  “I can only say that I’d rather be dead than to hurt anyone in my platoon, especially Staff Sergeant Chavez.”

  “You were lovers, I believe,” Aviv asked.

  “We were, yes,” Tallgrass said without a hint of shame.

  “Had there been any changes in that relationship?”

  “No, Admiral. We were both career military, both well aware that we could be assigned to different platoons and separated at a moment’s notice. I love Joaquin and I think he feels the same way, but we were prepared to put our feelings aside in favor of our career. I wouldn’t have been happy about that, but I knew it was always a possibility—in fact, it was almost a certainty at some point.”

  “You weren’t jealous? He wasn’t perhaps ending things with you or attempting to see another person?”

  “I’ll bet he was banging someone,” Grant said quietly to Furoke. “HA Specialists are like rabbits from all the synthetic testosterone they pump into them.”

  Dean had to clench his teeth and grip the arms of his chair to ignore the captain’s unfounded allegations about his friend.

  “To my knowledge, Staff Sergeant Chavez was not seeing anyone else. We hadn’t been out of battle armor since leaving the Hannibal several days ago to capture the Kroll ships. He’s an honorable man, and we were happy together.”

  “You’ve been a sergeant for a while now,” Masterson said. “Why haven’t you applied for CCS training?”

  “To be honest, I enjoy demolitions too much.”

  “Blowing things up does have a certain sense of satisfaction,” Masterson said with a smile.

  “Do my colleagues have any more questions?” Matsumoto said after a slight pause in the proceedings.

  “No, Admiral,” Aviv said.

  “Me neither, sir,” Masterson added.

  “Would anyone else like to speak on Sergeant Tallgrass’s behalf?”

  “I would,” Dean said, standing up. “I’ve known Eleanor Tallgrass for over a year, as both a platoon member and friend. I don’t believe she was in control of her actions during the escape attempt. I speak for my entire platoon when I say that we are all behind her one hundred percent, and while we will honor whatever decision the disciplinary committee makes, we would like to state that our hope is that she will be exonerated and returned to active duty as soon as possible.”

  “Yes, we have read the affidavits from your platoon, Major,” Masterson said. “Is there an update on the missing Pergantees?”

  “We are monitoring them via MSV feeds, but we haven’t located them yet,” Dean replied.

  “Having the aliens in custody would make our jobs easier,” Masterson said. “We need to find out what they are really capable of.”

  “In my opinion,” Aviv said, “the Pergantees are culpable for these crimes whether Sergeant Tallgrass was under their direct control or not.”

  “The Pergantees are another issue and not within the purview of this committee,” Matsumoto said. “It is my recommendation that we retire to discuss the matter in private before we reach any decisions.”

  “Before you do that,” Captain Grant said, standing up from his place in the rear of the room, “I would like to be heard.”

  “Captain Peter Grant, you may speak,” Matsumoto said.

  “I am here, like the rest of you, to carry out Operation Chameleon, as envisioned by Colonel Davis and Major Gheridelli. I can’t say whether the actions of Sergeant Tallgrass were the result of mind control by the Pergantee or simply poor leadership within her platoon. But I feel the committee needs to be reminded that our mission is of utmost importance, and while I feel for the accused, letting a potentially dangerous specialist return to duty with no way to prove her innocence is taking a huge risk. The best scientific minds in EsDef and multiple world governments concur that the Pergantees do not possess the kind of mind control Sergeant Tallgrass is claiming to have fallen under.”

  “Nor have those scientists been exposed to twelve Pergantees within the same vessel,” Dean said. “For that matter, the majority of what we know about the Pergantees comes from reports by the Urgglatta and testimony from individuals who have fallen under the influence of the Pergantees. I would hardly call their opinions on the abilities of an advanced alien race conclusive. We also know the Pergantees to be interlopers and disrupters d
ating far back into human history, before we were even a spacefaring race. We know for a fact that the Pergantees were involved in torturing the captive Recon soldiers first sent against this very ship. I urge this committee to remember who the real enemy is. Sergeant Tallgrass is an honorable person and a trustworthy platoon mate. I would trust her with my life.”

  Dean looked directly at Eleanor Tallgrass as he stated his feelings for her. Their eyes locked, and when Dean finished she nodded ever so slightly, and there was a lift to her chin that hadn’t been there before.

  “You really expect us to believe your platoon isn’t at the heart of this disaster?” Grant said loudly. “Of course you want her back—she was probably acting under your orders.”

  “Captain!” Matsumoto said. “That is a dangerous allegation to lodge upon a superior officer.”

  “I was with Colonel Davis when he pinned the oak leaves on Dean Blaze,” Grant proclaimed. “The colonel was violating orders to make that promotion, and while I believe wholeheartedly in our mission, I don’t recognize the field promotion or Blaze’s authority on this mission.”

  “I was there too, Captain,” Ortega said, speaking for the first time. “The entire company of Recon officers ignored orders to follow Colonel Davis, including you. If the colonel was out of bounds, then you too are out of bounds.”

  “The orders I have are from Colonel Davis’s office and refer to Major Blaze by name and rank,” Aviv said. “I do not think he was under duress when the promotion was made or when Major Blaze was selected to lead this operation.”

  “Major Blaze has more experience with the Kroll than any officer in the service,” Masterson said. “Why in hell wouldn’t he be the perfect choice for this mission?”

  “The failures within the Wolfpack platoon speak directly to Blaze’s failures as a leader,” Grant replied, unfazed by the rebuttals of the admirals. “Why would he choose to send enlisted specialists to interrogate the Pergantees? Why would he drag his feet to capture the escapees? Am I the only one who sees that Blaze is allowing the Pergantees to escape?”

  “Captain, you are out of order,” Matsumoto said.

  “Something isn’t right,” Grant thundered back. “He’s hiding something. We can’t trust him.”

  “Enough,” Matsumoto said. “This committee has a singular task and none of this is germane to that consideration. The hearing is adjourned.”

  Dean’s wrist link buzzed, and when he glanced at it he saw that his presence was requested in the med bay. Captain Grant was furious and snarling at everyone around him, but Dean made his way quickly from the room. He couldn’t worry about the committee’s decision at the moment, nor could he focus on Captain Grant’s vitriol. He would deal with the cocky captain in due time. First he would check on his friend and see about the Pergantees, and then he would settle matters with Grant, once and for all.

  Chapter 27

  “Major, thanks for coming so quickly,” Corporal Robb Landin said as Dean hurried into the med bay.

  “What is it? Is Chavez okay?”

  “He’s awake,” Landin said. “He’s still really weak, and normally we wouldn’t let anyone in to see him until he’s stronger. They might introduce infection or even just upset him, which could be deadly in a case like this, but he’s asking for you.”

  “Okay, I won’t upset him,” Dean said.

  Landin led Dean to the curtained-off area. Chavez was lying on a medical bed that was just slightly elevated at the head. His big body made the bed look tiny, and only the railing on either side held him in place. His feet protruded several inches from the end of the bed.

  Dean’s heart fell a little as he saw his old friend. Chavez had been with Dean on every mission he’d fought. The former Heavy Armor Specialist had always been big, strong, and full of life. Even while wounded on Rome Three, Chavez had been an integral part of the Wolfpack. Dean didn’t know what he was going to do without his CCS by his side if things fell apart on their mission.

  There were tubes and wires spread across Chavez’s body. Thick bandages were wrapped around his otherwise bare upper torso, and Dean could see traces of blood leaking through the gauze. Machines and monitors surrounded the head of the bed; their sickly green displays cast an alarming pall over the staff sergeant. And there was a foul smell in the confined space—an odor of blood, refuse, and sweat.

  “Hey there, Staff Sergeant,” Dean said, his voice quiet but upbeat. “It’s good to see you again.”

  “How long…was I..,out?” Chavez asked, his voice barely a whisper.

  “About twenty-four hours,” Dean said. “You took a hell of shot.”

  “Eleanor?”

  “She’s okay,” Dean said. “We have her in a holding cell. She’s safe.”

  “The…Pergan…tees?”

  “We killed all but two,” Dean said. “The final pair is deep in the mechanical works of the harvester. We’re monitoring them with MSVs, but we haven’t tracked them down yet.”

  Chavez closed his eyes. “Don’t blame…Eleanor,” he said.

  “That’s not up to me, Chavez. You know that.”

  “It wasn’t her…I spoke to…not her…self.”

  “She was under their influence, from the interrogation until we killed one of the escapees.”

  “I knew…it,” he said.

  “You need to rest, Chavez. That’s your only responsibility. Just get better.”

  Chavez nodded, then closed his eyes. Dean stood by his friend for a few moments, just glad to see him breathing and making sure that the monitors didn’t sound an alarm. Then, once he was sure Chavez was asleep, he left the small room. Landin was right outside.

  “What’s the prognosis?” Dean asked.

  “If he’s strong enough, there’s more work to be done to repair his bowels,” Landin said. “Maybe this afternoon, or in twenty-four hours. We don’t want to wait any longer than that.”

  “Will he make it?”

  “If he survives the next surgery, he will. But opening him back up is going to be a huge stress on his system. And to be honest, the growth hormones those guys get sometimes work against them in cases like this. His heart’s enlarged, and a lot of his bowel, too. The strain could be more than his system can handle—we’ll just have to wait and see.”

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  “No sir, this is a medical issue now. We’re doing everything we’re capable of. Having two med bots working together really helps. It’s lucky we were able to get them off the EsDef ships in working order.”

  “At least not all of our luck is bad,” Dean said, trying to smile. “I’ll be back later. Contact me if there’s any change or if he wakes up again.”

  “Yes sir,” Landin said. “How’s Tallgrass?”

  “Distraught and sick over what she’s done. But she’s strong; she’ll be okay.”

  “I can’t imagine how she’s feeling.”

  “None of us can. The damn Grays screwed with her mind, but that’s cold comfort when you have to live with the fact that you hurt the people you care about.”

  “Will you speak with her?”

  “If I get a chance,” Dean said. “She deserves to know how Chavez is doing.”

  “Tell her I’m thinking about her, will you?”

  “Sure, Corporal. You stay focused on the staff sergeant. I’ve got some aliens to find and exterminate.”

  “Yes sir!” Landin said, saluting.

  Dean returned the salute and left the medical bay. Across the concourse, Dean could see Tallgrass being escorted off the Hannibal. Several of the escort ship’s officers looked up as Dean approached. Anders was back at his station and waved Dean over.

  “Major, how’s the staff sergeant?”

  “Alive and stable, but he’ll have to undergo another surgery. We’ll have to wait and see.”

  “We’re all pulling for him,” Anders said, and several other officers nodded in agreement. “What do you plan on doing about Captain Grant? He obviously doesn�
�t want you leading this mission.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know,” Dean said. “I’ll deal with Grant once we’ve got the Pergantees in custody.”

  “Are you going to keep them alive?”

  “That depends,” Dean said. “We may not have a choice if they fight us.”

  “And if they surrender?”

  “We’ll do what’s best for the mission,” Dean said. “And we’ll make that decision together.”

  “Good luck then, Major. If we can do anything for you—”

  “You’ll be the first to know,” Dean smiled.

  He had just settled his TCU back on his head when a beep alerted him that Captain Parker was contacting him. Dean used facial controls to activate the comlink and open a private channel with Captain Parker.

  “Talk to me,” Dean said.

  “I think we’ve found them,” Parker said. She sounded exhausted, and Dean guessed she hadn’t gotten any rest.

  “Where?”

  “They’re in one of the tentacle arms,” she replied. “That’s why they stopped moving. It’s gotten too narrow for them. Private Loggins ran MSVs through the entire life support structure. We’ve studied the electrical system, but it’s too small for the little gray bastards to crawl through. The conduits are only a few inches, and we’ve checked all the electrical junction boxes and maintenance areas. There’s no sewage facility on the ship; I’m guessing the spongy matter that covered the decking in the aviary was Kroll excrement. They have water systems, but the Pergantees aren’t in there. What we found were access points to the tentacle arms. This is one hell of a ship. Sergeant Harper told me about the bastards harvesting colonists on Cymru.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Maintenance level in one of the workshops. It’s as close to the tentacles as we’ve gotten so far. We’re trying to figure out how to open the hatches that lead to the telescoping arms.”

  “Alright, wait for me there. I’m on my way,” Dean said.

  There were several hatches on the main corridor that led down to the maintenance areas. Ladders built into the ship led from just outside the aviary down to the maintenance passageway that ran directly beneath the glass-walled holding cells along the outer ring of the Kroll harvester ship. The hatches were heavy metal doors that looked like they had been salvaged from Earth submarines. With the hatches completely open, a Heavy Armor Specialist could just squeeze through. Dean had no trouble climbing down and heading for the section where his TCU showed Captain Parker.