by G J Ogden
“The Sa’Nerra took them,” the colonist replied, displaying the sort of grit Sterling expected from someone who had been raised in the Void. “We were forced to work or those alien bastards would kill us. The ships came every week to pick up the weapons and supplies we made. Then a few days ago, a Sa’Nerran transport arrived and took everyone off world.”
“So, how come you escaped capture?” asked Banks, stepping to Sterling’s side and glowering at the colonist. Sterling liked that his first-officer was as naturally cynical as he was. The colonist recoiled from Banks, as if the Commander was on fire. Sterling smiled; clearly his first officer’s frightening display of strength had made an impression.
“We hid, obviously,” the colonist replied, managing to muster the courage to give attitude back to Banks. “Then we got down here. One of the others works in the bank,” the man added, nodding in the direction of the colonists lined up against the wall as he said this. “He got us all inside the vault, with some supplies. But we had no way of knowing when the Sa’Nerra had gone. We had a couple more days of supplies, so we just planned to wait as long as we could.”
Sterling looked at Commander Banks and her skeptical eyes met his. She clearly wasn’t buying the colonist’s story, and while on the surface it seemed to check out, Sterling felt a nugget of doubt burrowing away at the back of his mind.
“There’s nothing on the surface but mud,” replied Sterling, nodding to Shade. His weapons officer then rounded up the colonists and began to march them back up the stairs to the main hall of the bank.
“What are you going to do with us?” said the colonist, nervously watching his companions get herded up the staircase.
“We’re going to get our medical officer to check you all out, that’s all,” said Sterling, tying to make it sound like this was for their own benefit. However, in truth, he wanted to be doubly sure the colonists were who they said they were. And he also wanted to check that there was no corruption beneath the surface of their implants that would make them mind-controlled ticking time bombs. The mention of pirates had also raised his suspicions that this gang of twelve people hiding in a bank vault weren’t native to Vega Two.
“Then what are you going to do?” replied the man. “Will you take us back to United Governments space? Or to Earth?”
Sterling waved the man on with the barrel of his pistol then followed a couple of meters behind, with Banks still at his side. “We’re a ship of war, not a taxi service,” said Sterling. “If you want to get back to Earth, you’ll have to make your own way there.”
They reached the top of the stairs and Sterling entered the main hall of the bank. The other eleven colonists were again lined up against the wall, being watched vigilantly by three of the commandos.
“Did you come here alone?” asked the colonist as Sterling ushered him into the center of the room. “Is your ship in orbit or on the surface? I didn’t see a shuttle landing.”
Sterling’s eyes narrowed. “Do you see much, holed up behind a three-foot-thick steel door ten meters below ground?”
Commander Banks became alert and slowly stepped to the side of the colonist, her eyes fixed on the man.
“Oh, one of us scouted outside when we heard the thrusters firing,” said the colonist, offering Sterling a smile. “We thought it might have been the Sa’Nerra leaving.”
Sterling kept his eyes locked on the man. “You just asked me if my ship is in orbit,” he said, tightening his grip on his pistol. “You’d already know it wasn’t if you watched us land.”
“I meant other than that one,” the colonist replied, still smiling. “You know, I just wondered how many of you are here.” The man’s voice wasn’t showing any signs of stress, nor had the colonist’s expression altered, beyond adopting a smile. This only made Sterling more suspicious. Then he noticed a name tag on the colonist’s shirt. It was just visible beneath the man’s animal-skin jacket, though he could only make out the surname, which read “Gillian”.
“You’ll see soon enough, once you’re on-board,” said Sterling, changing tack and returning the man’s warm, insincere smile. “First, let’s get you all medically checked out. I’ll need your name for the record.”
The man’s plastic-looking smile remained on his face as he answered. “Kyle. My name is Kyle,” he said.
“Do you have a surname, Kyle?” asked Sterling, maintaining his own smile.
The colonist again vacillated. “Jones,” he eventually answered, after another pregnant pause. “My name is Kyle Jones.”
Sterling nodded and smiled. The man had fallen into his trap. Then without warning he grabbed a clump of the colonist’s hair and yanked the man’s head back, thrusting the barrel of his plasma pistol underneath his chin once again.
“Why don’t you tell me who you really are, ‘Kyle Jones’,” Sterling said, practically spitting the words into the colonist’s face. “And I want to know what the hell happened to the other colonists. The truth this time!” he snarled, pressing the barrel of the pistol so hard against the man’s skin that he drew blood.
“You can’t win,” the colonist replied, his voice suddenly coarse and aggressive. “They’ll never stop hunting you.”
“Who?” replied Sterling, pushing the man to his knees and this time holding the pistol to the colonist’s forehead. Banks moved behind the man and pressed down on the colonist’s shoulders to make sure he couldn’t run. “Who the hell are you talking about?” Sterling barked, growing increasingly impatient.
“The Sa’Nerra, of course!” the colonist spat back. “You’re vermin to them. You have infested their space, and they will not stop until you are eradicated.”
Sterling cursed and threw the man down to the ground. “You’re siding with the Sa’Nerra?” he asked, his eyes briefly flicking up to Banks, who looked as stunned as he felt.
“It’s better this way,” the colonist replied. “Just give in to them! They’ll win anyway, there’s no sense in fighting.”
Banks stepped on the colonist’s hand and applied pressure with the heel of her boot. “Answer the question,” she yelled. “Are you working with the aliens? Have you been feeding them intelligence?” However, despite practically crushing the man’s fingers, the colonist showed no pain. He simply peered up into Banks’ eyes, almost willing her to apply more pressure.
“He’s been turned,” said Sterling, suddenly understanding what was happening.
“How can that be? His implant is normal,” Banks hit back, lifting her boot off the man’s hand. Three of the colonist’s fingers were broken, yet still the man acted as if he was unhurt. “And he’s cognizant. The others we’ve see who are turned are like zombies,” Banks added, glowering down at the man as he lifted his mangled hand off the floor and smiled at her.
Sterling shook his head. “I don’t understand it either,” he said. Then he leant in closer, grabbing the colonist’s jaw and forcing the man to look at him. “But I’m going to have Commander Graves dissect you like a lab rat until I find out why,” he continued. Though again the colonist displayed no fear whatsoever.
“You won’t have time for that,” the man replied, the plastic smile returning to his face. “We told them you were coming. And now they are here.”
The man then slapped the breast pocket of his jacket, and every light in the building went dead.
Chapter 11
Secrets revealed in darkness
Sterling heard a grunt of pain and a scuffle of boots against the solid wood floor, but with the lights suddenly going out, he was temporarily blinded.
“Mercedes, talk to me…” Sterling called out, taking cautious steps back while trying to compel his eyes to adjust, but he could no longer see the colonist or his first officer.
“Damn it, I’ve lost him!” Banks replied. “He hit me and ran, I don’t know where.”
Sterling followed the sound of Banks’ voice, but he could barely make her out in the gloom.
“Everyone, stay sharp, this is a trap,�
�� Sterling called out, continuing to back away from the colonist’s last known location with his weapon raised.
Sterling then felt a hard thump to the gut and he was driven back across the polished hardwood floor of the bank. The attack caught him completely unawares and stole the breath from his lungs, so that he was unable to call out for help. Before he knew it, his attacker had driven him hard into the wall, bruising his back and shoulders. Then he felt hands sliding around his throat and begin to tighten their grip, squeezing his windpipe so that he couldn’t breathe. His training kicked in and Sterling thrust his arm up through the colonist’s hands to break the hold. Twisting his body, he then drove his elbow into the man’s sternum as hard as he could. The colonist staggered away, but considering the force with which Sterling had struck him, the man should have been on his knees, gasping for breath. Instead, the turned colonist barely showed a flicker of discomfort.
“Open fire!” Sterling heard Lieutenant Shade call out, but the fizz of plasma weapons was conspicuous by its absence. His vision was adjusting, but he could still barely see Shade or Banks in the gloom. However, the scuffles of boots, shouts and dull thuds of flesh striking flesh told him that fighting had broken out.
“You can’t beat them,” the turned colonist said, continuing to stalk Sterling. The man was now a shadowy outline in front of him, growing clearer by the second. “They’re stronger than you. They’re smarter than you. There’s more of them than you. It’s only a matter of time before humanity falls. Give in to the Sa’Nerra and they will make you understand. It’s better this way.”
Keeping one eye on the colonist, Sterling peered around the room, looking for anything he could use as an improvised weapon. A bar from one of the bank teller windows was rusted and loose. He grabbed it and yanked it clear with one swift, powerful motion. The metal bar felt cool and reassuringly weighty in his hand.
“You seem to know a lot about the Sa’Nerra,” said Sterling, circling around the colonist. He wanted to extract as much information from the man as possible, before extracting as much pain from him as the turned traitor could stand.
“I’m one of the lucky ones,” the colonist replied. “The Sa’Nerran neural education granted me the gift of understanding. The Sa’Nerra now speak to me.” Then then man tapped his neural implant so hard that Sterling thought he would poke a hole through his skull. “They speak to me in here.”
“And what do the Sa’Nerra tell you?” Sterling asked, dodging back to avoid an attempt by the man to grab his arm.
“They tell me that humanity will be exterminated,” the colonist replied, “but that I will be spared. That I will live under their rule, once Earth and all of the worlds that humankind infests are cleansed of those that refuse to bow to their will.”
Sterling had seen and heard enough. All the colonist had done was confirm what he, Admiral Griffin and the other Omega officers already suspected. That peace with the Sa’Nerra was not an option. Neither was surrender. And because of this, victory had to be achieved at any cost. Because even if the cost was high, it was still better than annihilation or servitude.
“You can tell your new masters that humanity doesn’t take kindly to threats,” Sterling hit back, feinting and drawing the colonist into an attack. The colonist rushed forward and Sterling slammed the metal bar into the man’s throat, crushing his windpipe. Yet, incredibly, still the man did not go down. Undeterred, Sterling reversed his grip on the bar then drove it inside the colonist’s mouth and down his throat, scraping and cracking teeth as he pushed harder. The man croaked and flailed his arms, but looked more confused than in pain. “And you can tell them that Captain Lucas Sterling will never bow to their will,” he added before smashing the man’s face into the hardwood floor and driving the bar deep into the colonist’s gullet. Sterling watched the man flounder on the wooden floor like a stranded salmon. He could have ended the man’s suffering, but he had no desire to do so. The Sa’Nerra would show humanity no mercy. He would return the compliment. It didn’t matter that the man was human – he was turned. He was no different to the Sa’Nerra, and Sterling would treat him the same as his enemy.
The colonist’s thrashes finally died down and Sterling looked up to see Commander Banks and Lieutenant Shade coming toward him. Two commandos flanked Shade, but Sterling could see that the rest of the squad was dead on the floor, alongside the bodies of the other turned colonists.
“It was an EMP, sir, powerful enough to fry the circuits in our plasma weapons,” said Lieutenant Shade, holding an object out to Sterling. “They planned this.”
Sterling took the object and saw that it was a remote activator. He cursed and threw the activator down. “At least in the past, we knew who we were facing,” Sterling said, as the floor and walls of the bank vault began to shake. “This is different. This makes the Sa’Nerra even more dangerous.” The floor then began to shake even harder, as if the area was being subjected to a low intensity earthquake.
“The turned colonist said that they’re already here,” Shade added, looking around the room. Dust and loose mortar were crumbling from the ceiling. “The man must mean the Sa’Nerra.”
“If that EMP was powerful enough to knock out our weapons, it could have affected the Invictus too,” said Commander Banks, ramping up the sense of urgency even higher. “The ship is hardened against any such strikes, but it might still scramble the systems long enough for the Sa’Nerra to attack.”
“We need to get off the ground,” said Sterling, running to the window and peering outside. The two commandos who had been standing watch on the veranda were now sprawled out on the ground. Sterling could see blood-stained holes to their foreheads. “There are more turned colonists outside,” Sterling continued, moving away from the window. “They’re using conventional firearms. The commandos outside are dead.”
The glass in the windows then smashed and Sterling ducked, shielding his head from the razor-sharp shards that were tumbling onto him.
“Get down!” Sterling called out to the others, while shaking the glass from his head and neck. Then he saw that the two remaining commandos were dead, shot in the head and neck by whoever was lurking outside.
“I’ll try to find us another way out of here,” said Banks, rushing to the row of teller counters and leaping over them.
“And I’ll scout the place for some weapons,” added Lieutenant Shade. “Commander Banks may be strong enough to snap these colonist’s necks, but the rest of us aren’t.”
Sterling nodded then closed and barred the door from the inside. The floor was shaking harder still and there was a rumble in the air like distant thunder. He chanced another look through a window and saw a ship descending though the atmosphere. Sa’Nerran vessels were easy to discern from their Fleet adversaries. They were crude and ugly, like their crews, but also tough and battle-hardened. The ship that was approaching was equivalent in size and combat potency to a Fleet Light Cruiser. And it could pulverize the Invictus in a matter of seconds, unless they could get their ship off the ground. However, Sterling suspected that if the Sa’Nerran ship was landing it was because the warriors had other plans for him and his crew.
“Captain, over here,” Commander Banks called out, waving him over. Sterling ran across the polished hardwood floor, ducking low beneath the window line in case anyone outside tried to take a potshot at him. “There’s an exit through here. We can then move through the side streets and alleys back to the ship.”
Sterling tapped his neural implant, watching as Lieutenant Shade approached, holding two ancient-looking sidearms and a longer weapon that was an elegant combination of wood and metal.
“Lieutenant Commander Crow, do you read me?” said Sterling over his neural link, but there was no reply. “Crow, come in,” he repeated, but still there was no answer. Sterling cursed then spoke out loud to Banks and Shade. “I can’t raise the ship over a neural link.”
“Perhaps the EMP knocked out our implants too?” suggested Shade.
; Sterling shook his head. “The implants are organic, an EMP wouldn’t impact them.”
“The neural comms relays on the ship’s hull aren’t through,” Banks chipped in. “If they were affected by the pulse, it would scramble the link. And without those relays, our signals will struggle to penetrate the hull of the Invictus.”
Sterling took one of the conventional sidearms from Lieutenant Shade and handed it to Banks, before taking the second for himself. “I assume you’re comfortable with whatever that thing is?” he said, nodding at the rifle-sized weapon that remained with Shade.
“It’s a shotgun, sir,” replied Shade. “And there’s no weapon that I’m not comfortable with,” she added, coolly. It wasn’t a boast, and didn’t come across as one. Shade never overstated her capabilities, or gave understated responses. She said exactly what she meant, whether you liked it or not. “I’ve already loaded your weapons, and they’re ready to fire.”
Sterling tried the handle of the side door, but it wouldn’t open. Stepping back, he nodded to Commander Banks, who grabbed the handle and pushed the door open, snapping the lock like it was made of a brittle clay. Shade moved out first, running into cover behind a commercial waste bin. Sterling and Banks followed, moving across to the opposite side of the narrow back alley.
“The ship is a few hundred meters in that direction,” said Shade, pointing with the flat of her hand. Then she adjusted the aim of her fingers. “Based on the shots from outside the bank, I’d say our snipers are either on the roof or an upper floor of a building to the west side of the street.
“We won’t be able to take them down with these,” said Sterling, examining the ancient weapon that Shade had found. It felt heavier than a plasma pistol, but the ergonomics were similar. “We should work our way around, and stay off the main street.”
The rumble of thunder continued to rise and Sterling glanced into the murky grey sky to see the Sa’Nerran light cruiser creeping ever lower and closer. Its landing struts were already kicked out, which simply confirmed Sterling’s earlier suspicions.