by Ryk Brown
“Oh, my God,” Cuddy exclaimed in a shocked, breathless whisper.
“Oh, fuck,” Birk added as he came into the room, as well. “What happened?”
“He was tortured.”
“Why?” Cuddy wondered.
Michael spotted something on the floor next to the chair in which the old man had died. A small cube, which he recognized as a 3D image projector. He bent over and picked it up, wiping it on his pant leg to get the blood off. Holding it in the palm of his hand, he pressed the small button on the side to activate the projector.
In the air before them was a meter-tall image of a man in uniform. He looked to be in his late thirties and was wearing the uniform of the Corinari…a lieutenant. Standing beside him was a much younger man, who bore a striking resemblance to the old man sitting dead in the chair beside him.
Michael felt a wave of emotion wash over him, as he recognized the man in uniform. “Because of him,” Michael said, answering Cuddy’s question. “I knew this man,” he added, struggling to hold back tears. “His name was Waddell. This man must be his father.” Michael began to lose it, squinting to keep control of his emotions as tears ran down his cheeks. “He didn’t give us up in order to honor his son, and grandson, both of whom died in combat.” Michael paused, sniffling. “He’s with them now.”
* * *
“What the hell are we doing here?” Josh wondered from the cockpit of the Seiiki. “The Prestipino’s main propulsion is toast.”
“She’s still got maneuvering, and her jump drive might still work,” Loki insisted. “If so, we could jump her to a safe location and wait for a tug to haul her back to the fleet for repairs.”
“We’re not even two jumps from the original engagement area,” Josh argued. “And it’s gonna take you guys at least half an hour to get inside and determine if the damn thing is salvageable. I say we cut our losses and head home.”
“Intel says that ship is carrying a lot of useful cargo,” Corporal Eliason said. “Medical supplies, consumables, small arms, energy rifles, even portable fusion reactors. If we can jump her to a safe location, we might at least be able to unload her.”
“Guns, reactors, medical supplies?” Josh wondered. “That doesn’t sound suspicious to you?” He looked at Loki. “Sounds like the perfect bait to me.”
“Good point,” Loki agreed.
“I thought that myself,” the corporal admitted. “But going over there now to investigate holds no more risk than any of the previous cargo ships we’ve boarded.”
“Unless the whole thing is a trap,” Josh insisted. “Let’s not forget that one of the escort fighters is still unaccounted for. What if they went for reinforcements?”
“If they did, they left before the Prestipino jumped, so they don’t know where she is at the moment,” the corporal argued.
“But they will shortly.”
“Which is why we should stop talking and board her now,” the corporal insisted.
“This is nuts,” Josh argued, shaking his head.
“Maybe, but it’s my call,” Corporal Eliason reminded Josh. “My responsibility.”
“And it’s my responsibility to keep this ship, and her crew, safe,” Josh argued. “And that means not flying her into, what looks like, a trap.”
“If it is a trap, then they’re going to wait until we’re on board to spring it,” the corporal insisted. “So, just get us on our way, and then move off to a safe distance, like usual. If something goes wrong inside, you can jump away.”
“Sounds great,” Josh agreed with a bit of sarcasm in his voice. “Except for one thing. You’re taking Loki with you. And that’s an unacceptable risk, since he’s the only one with the training necessary to jump these captured cargo ships back to the fleet, using our pursuit-evasion algorithm.”
“Agreed,” the corporal replied. “Loki stays here. Once we secure the ship, we’ll assess her condition. If she’s able, we’ll make another jump, rendezvous with you there, and bring Mister Sheehan aboard. Sound good?”
“No,” Josh replied, “but it does sound acceptable.”
“Fantastic,” Corporal Eliason said, relieved. “Get us onto that ship, then.”
“You got it,” Josh replied, turning back to his console.
As soon as the corporal left the Seiiki’s bridge, Loki spoke up. “Thanks. I really did not want to go over there.”
“I’ve always got your back, Lok,” Josh replied. “You know that.”
* * *
After what seemed an eternity, Birk finally broke the silence. “We have to decide what to do.”
Michael looked up from where he had been sitting, staring at old man Waddell’s body. “We should stay here for a while.”
“I thought we were trying to get to Aitkenna?” Cuddy said.
“Ultimately, yes,” Michael agreed. “But, as unfortunate as this man’s death is, his sacrifice is an opportunity for us.”
“I’m not following you,” Birk admitted.
“The Dusahn have already been here. They tortured this man to death, and he revealed nothing of importance to them. Therefore, it is highly unlikely that they will return. We should be able to stay here for days, if need be, without fear of discovery.”
“What about their satellites?” Cuddy asked.
“If the Dusahn have already swept this area, it is unlikely their satellites will be conducting scans any longer. Also, most of these ranch houses have sensor-blocking nets installed in their attic spaces from during the Takaran occupation. We should check that now, while the satellites are least likely to be looking in this area.”
Birk looked at the old man’s dead body. “What do we do with him? Maybe we should bury him, or something.”
“No, we must leave everything as it is, including Mister Waddell’s body,” Michael insisted. “In case the Dusahn return.”
“We’re supposed to stare at a dead body for a few days?” Birk asked, surprised.
“I’m afraid we have little choice.”
“Could we at least put a sheet over him, or something?”
“I’m afraid not.”
Birk sighed. “He’s gonna start to smell soon.”
“I know,” Michael replied. “Perhaps we should stay out of this part of the house completely. The two of you gather up what you can of benefit. Food, water, that kind of thing. But try not to change the way things look. Don’t put anything away, or touch or move anything that you don’t have to. Understood?”
“I’ve got it,” Birk replied.
“What are you going to do?” Cuddy wondered.
“I’m going up into the attic to check for those nets,” Michael replied.
* * *
“They’re still not answering our hails,” Loki reported over comms.
“That’s alright,” Corporal Eliason replied. “We brought a universal key. Pop the door, Inchin.”
“I’m on it,” the Ghatazhak soldier, at the Prestipino’s starboard airlock outer door, replied as he attached his override device to the outside of the door controller. Five seconds later, the red light on the control console turned green, and the outer doors slid open, disappearing into the cargo ship’s hull. “We’re in.”
“Inchin and Gazen,” the corporal instructed.
The two Ghatazhak soldiers pulled themselves into the airlock, its artificial gravity pulling them to the floor so they could easily transition from floating to walking. Troopers Inchin and Gazen moved into the airlock with weapons held ready, positioning themselves on either side of the airlock’s inner doors. Trooper Inchin leaned in just enough to peer through the portal in the left door as Trooper Gazen dropped to one knee to ready himself.
Corporal Eliason and Trooper Mitchell also moved into the airlock, and the corporal activat
ed the outer doors, causing them to slide closed. Trooper Inchin reached up to the control console next to him and started the airlock pressurization cycle. “One minute to pressure.”
“Seiiki, Eliason. We’re about to enter. Maintain a safe distance.”
“Don’t you worry,” Josh replied.
“If any more Dusahn fighters show up, bug out,” the corporal added.
“Yet another unnecessary instruction,” Josh quipped.
“We really need to get another pilot,” the corporal said, looking at Trooper Mitchell.
“And miss all this witty repartee?”
“Full pressure,” Inchin announced. “Popping inner door.”
Trooper Gazen pulled his energy rifle tight to his shoulder, readying himself to open fire if needed. Inchin activated the inner doors, causing them to slide open, giving them access to the interior of the Prestipino.
“Here we go,” the corporal said, moving forward with his weapon high and ready. He stepped through the inner doors, immediately moving left as he swept his rifle from side to side. Trooper Mitchell followed suit, moving right as he swept the compartment in a similar fashion. The two men moved quickly to the far side of the compartment, taking up firing positions in case anyone came through the next hatchway leading into the corridor. As soon as the two men were set, Troopers Inchin and Gazen came out of the airlock, as well, moving straight ahead through the compartment and into the corridor.
“Corridor is clear,” Trooper Inchin reported.
“Seiiki, Eliason. We’re in, moving to the bridge.”
“Copy that.”
“Aren’t we splitting up, like usual?” Trooper Gazen asked.
“Negative,” the corporal stated firmly. “If this is a trap, it’s better we stay together. If we get to the bridge without any trouble, it’s a pretty safe bet this isn’t a trap.”
“Jump flashes,” Loki reported. “Two Cobra gunships.”
“Seiiki, Striker Leader. Sit rep.”
“Leader, Seiiki,” Loki replied. “Boarding party is on the Prestipino, headed for the bridge.”
“Why aren’t you with them?” Captain Nash wondered.
“The whole thing felt hinky, Captain. So, Corporal Eliason decided I should stay put until they secured the Prestipino.”
“Understood.”
“Did you guys find the fourth octo-fighter?” Josh asked.
“Negative,” Captain Nash replied. “Two and Three are still looking. We’ll take up overwatch.”
“Understood,” Josh replied. He looked at Loki. “Man, I’d feel a whole lot better if they found that fourth fighter.”
Corporal Eliason and Trooper Mitchell led the way, moving quickly forward, through the Prestipino’s central fore-aft corridor. At each hatch, they paused to peek inside the compartments to be sure that no one surprised them from behind after they passed.
Finally, they reached the midship cargo bay hatch which, according to the tactical display on the inside of their helmet visors, was the last large compartment between them and the forward portion of the ship, where the crew quarters and bridge were located.
Corporal Eliason studied the tactical display on his visor. Something was wrong. “The next bay is half empty,” he said. He looked at Trooper Mitchell. “Why would a cargo ship, with escorts, have a bay that was half empty?”
“Kill zone?” Trooper Mitchell surmised.
“That’s what I’m thinking,” the corporal replied. “Are you picking up any warm targets?”
“Negative,” Trooper Mitchell replied. “But I am picking up a lot of dead spots that shouldn’t be there, if you catch my drift.”
Corporal Eliason nodded. “We pop stunners on twenty-second delays. You go deep right, I’ll go deep left. Gazen and Inchin go shallow, left and right. We give them four targets to deal with. Stay moving, shoot in all directions. Switch to yellow fire. If a target is firing any other color, fucking kill it.”
“Hell yeah,” Trooper Mitchell replied.
“Pass them over,” the corporal instructed as he pulled out his two stun grenades and set their delays to twenty seconds each.
Troopers Inchin and Gazen pulled their stun grenades and set the delays, before handing them to Corporal Eliason and Trooper Mitchell.
“They won’t fire until all four of us are inside,” the corporal reminded his men. “So, you two hold back ten seconds to give us time to get forward, otherwise they’ll have us pinned against the aft bulkhead.”
“Got it,” Trooper Inchin acknowledged as Trooper Gazen nodded agreement.
“Here goes nothing,” the corporal declared. He hit the hatch button and the doors split, sliding into the bulkhead on either side of the hatchway. He stepped inside and ran to the left, tossing stun grenades high in the air, toward the forward and aft corners of the large cargo bay, as he ran. Trooper Mitchell did the same to the right. Ten seconds later, Troopers Inchin and Gazen charged in, as well, moving immediately toward the aft corners of the compartment. As soon as they entered, red energy weapons fire erupted from all sides, slamming into cargo containers and ricocheting off of bulkheads. It was a dizzying frenzy of fire, with only a few bolts of yellow energy being offered in return, in order to keep the enemy engaged.
Then, without warning, eight stun grenades went off in near unison. The effect would be overwhelming to anyone not wearing protective gear, such as that worn by the Ghatazhak, and Corporal Eliason was certain that the crew of the Prestipino would not be so equipped.
Unfortunately, he was wrong. The stun grenades did not stop the barrage of red energy weapons fire. In fact, it was getting more intense with each passing second.
Despite the increased onslaught, Corporal Eliason remained calm as he returned fire, methodically picking his targets in the most efficient pattern possible.
“What the fuck?” Inchin exclaimed.
“I’ve got ten to starboard, moving directly toward you, Eliason!” Mitchell warned.
“Fuck! I’m hit!” Inchin yelled over comms.
“Inchin! Sit rep!” Corporal Eliason barked as he scanned his tactical display and continued to return fire.
“My left leg is fucked!” Inchin replied. “But I’m still in the fight, sir!”
“Mitchell! Shift aft and cover Inchin!” the corporal ordered. “I’m heading up the middle, between the pods!”
“Moving aft!” Trooper Mitchell replied as he rose and ran toward Trooper Inchin, firing as he moved.
Corporal Eliason pulled a grenade from his belt, flipped the toggle, and tossed it toward the source of the heaviest incoming weapons fire, then ducked down as the grenade went off. He could hear the bloodcurdling screams of men as they were torn apart by the explosion, but he paid it no heed. Instead, he moved quickly between cargo pods, toward the center of the cargo bay, in an attempt to draw fire away from his wounded comrade. As he ran, he pulled another grenade, flipped the toggle, tossed it toward another group of enemy troops, and then dove for cover as the second grenade went off.
More screams were heard, but the red bolts of energy continued to rain down upon them from every corner of the bay. The corporal scrambled to his feet, putting his back against one of the cargo pods that he was using as cover, when two men in black and crimson combat armor came around the corner and charged toward him. The corporal swung his rifle around and opened fire. His first bolt of energy slammed into the nearest charging soldier, knocking him off his feet but not killing him. He continued firing, but the second soldier dodged to the right to avoid fire before diving toward the corporal with a knife in his hand. The corporal took the man’s knife hand as he dove into him, rolling to his side with his attacker’s momentum, tossing the enemy soldier over him, into the side of the next cargo pod. The corporal rolled onto his knees, straddling his attacker, fal
ling into him and driving his right elbow into the man’s visor, shattering it and driving the soldier’s helmeted head into the deck. With his right hand, he twisted the enemy soldier’s knife hand over, trying to use the extra strength provided by his assistive bodysuit to snap his attacker’s wrist, but the enemy soldier’s armor protected him well. Instead, he pushed the man’s knife hand down into the deck, knocking the knife free. The corporal then dove forward, releasing his hold on his attacker, and picking up the soldier’s knife from the deck in front of him as he tucked and rolled. When he came up, the first soldier was back on his feet and nearly upon him. Corporal Eliason drove his newly acquired blade in between the abdominal plates in the enemy soldier’s armor, thrusting it deep into the man’s liver, and twisting it for good measure. Then, in a smooth motion, the corporal wrapped his free hand around the wounded soldier’s head and rolled to the right, twisting the soldiers head around and snapping his neck. As the corporal fell, he pulled the dead man’s body around with him, using the fallen soldier as a shield from the weapons fire of the second soldier. With no weapon in his hand, the corporal pulled the sidearm from the lifeless hulk lying atop him and opened fire in the direction of the second soldier. His first three shots glanced off the man’s body armor, but his fourth shot found the enemy soldier’s shattered visor, as well as the man’s face behind it.
With both attackers dead, the corporal had a moment to push the dead man off of him and scramble for the nearest cover as energy weapons fire continued to slam into everything around him.
“It’s the fucking Zen-Anor!” Trooper Gazen exclaimed.
Corporal Eliason paused a moment, checking the tactical display on the inside of his visor. There were at least twenty to thirty red dots located all around them. On the catwalks above and among the cargo pods throughout the cargo bay, the Zen-Anor soldiers were everywhere, and they were well armed and well trained.