Prime Alpha (Planetary Powers Book 1)

by Joshua Boring

  “Alright,” Nathen said, waving as he backed out of the doorway. Gordon stepped through, and Nathen reached out and touched the controls, slamming the door shut. Sealing himself in the mobile headquarters hangar.

  The commander sighed, resting a hand against the heavy door and bowing his head. He knew that doing so turned his back to the entire hangar, which was what he intended. His last piece of unfinished business wouldn’t be able to resist. Nathen waited several seconds, sensing a figure draw up close behind him. He spoke, causing the same figure to jump slightly.

  “We just keep running into each other,” Nathen turned around to face his guest directly. “…don’t we, Lupell?”

  He could hardly see the drastic, disheveled traitor past the barrel of the gun. The man had a deranged, frightened and angry expression chiseled on his face, continuously melting between dismayed and outraged. The man was fanatical, as Nathen had come to expect of him, and had trapped himself on board the mobile headquarters just to get to Nathen. He’d likely snuck on and hidden behind the Hybrid dropships. He’d proven that he was more than capable of subtly, though there was nothing subtle about him now. The man had just trapped himself on board his enemies’ ship, and was holding a gun in Nathen’s face.

  Lupell was breathing heavily, sweating from discomfort. He'd received medical care at some point, likely from a wandering medical team, but it was clear he'd left before anyone could finish the job, or identify him. His captain's uniform was stained with dried blood over some loosely attached patches, covering the bullet hole in his back. His face was dark and bruised from the pummeling Nathen had given him upon their first meeting. The swelling couldn't hide his ravenous disgust though.

  “You,” he said, sucking in heavy breaths through his nose. The man was in serious pain. “You ruined everything. Do you realize how many Humans you've killed with this act?”

  Nathen responded with a silent and stony expression, betraying nothing.

  Lupell jerked the gun closer to Nathen’s face, his hands shaking slightly from rage. Nathen didn’t flinch. Lupell scowled at him for several more seconds before speaking again amidst cracked breaths.

  “You... You heralded in the war! I should shoot you for that.”

  “Then shoot me,” Nathen said casually, like he was just passing the time. “But you can't kill me.”

  At this, Nathen's voice darkened, and his eyes narrowed harshly as he furrowed his brow in a scowl.

  “You can't kill me. Because I'm not something that can be killed. I'm not a soldier. I'm not a weapon. I am an ESC. I am a belief. A belief that there are things in this life worth fighting for. That they should be fought for. And when you kill Nathen Brampton, you've stopped nothing. Because what you want to destroy in me exists in every Human being. You've failed, Lupell. You were wrong.”

  “No, I wasn't!” spat Lupell, stuttering. “A-Am not! You're just as blind as everyone else! No one can see the ashes for all the fire! The Human Race is doomed to extinction in the Solar War!”

  “The Sktish don't think so,” Nathen said, arms crossed. “The Serim don't think so. And after today, I assure you, the Yew don't think so either. So why is it that out of all these races you claim are so dangerous, it’s a Human who nearly destroyed us?”

  “And it’s Humans who will save us,” Lupell said, sucking in his breath sharply. “Once the Rapture Brigade regains the Yew’s trust, we’ll make it all better. You’ll never find the rest of us.”

  Nathen nodded. “You’re right. We never will.” He offered a dark grin. “At least, not without a magnifying glass, and a very small dust pan.”

  Lupell’s face twitched.

  “…What,” he stuttured, confused. “What do you mean by that!?”

  Nathen glanced up, like he was thinking. “Oh that’s right, you probably hadn’t heard. The Sledgefast exploded as it was running away. Somehow that bomb you planted on the station’s bridge found its way onto your ship’s core.” Nathen looked Lupell in the eye. “There’s not enough left of the Rapture Brigade to fill a footnote in the history books.”

  The word’s implications sank into the traitor like knives of ice. Lupell worked his jaw, trying to speak but at a loss for words. Nathen could tell just how conflicted the man was. Everything he'd 'known', everything he'd thought he'd seen the truth in, had crumbled. His very existence was a lie in his own eyes, and he couldn't accept that. Finally, Lupell breathed out like he’d been holding his breath, throat choked with emotion.

  “I just…” he practically sobbed. “I just wanted the war to end. This was the only way. Why can't you see my solution for peace?”

  Nathen arched a mocking eyebrow. “I can't see it because there's a gun in my face.”

  “Oh, you’re so full of it!” spat Lupell, erupting. “You cocky piece of-!”

  Nathen snapped his hand up and slapped the gun out of his face, grabbed Lupell’s wrist, and in one strong twist, turned the gun down and fired one shot into Lupell’s knee.

  The traitor screamed in agony, falling to the deck and dropping his pistol. Nathen bent down and scooped up the sidearm, then grabbed the injured man by the back of his bloody uniform and dragged him along, blocking out the man’s swears and threats to his life.

  “My leg! My leg, AAHHH! You monster! I'll kill you for what you've done! You've doomed everyone! You-”

  Nathen rolled his eyes as he punched in the three-digit access code for the hangar trash chamber. The heavy air lock hissed as it decompressed and swung open. Nathen, grabbing Lupell's lapel with both arms, hefted the traitor up and tossed him into the piles of scrap and filth. Lupell continued to scream, both in pain and in raw emotional suffering. The ESC commander leaned against the opening of the trash compactor, blocking the light from entering the dark square.

  “How’s it feel, huh?” said Nathen, the slight rush from the burst of action disappearing. “Finally in the trash where you belong. You can’t honestly have thought this could end any other way.”

  Lupell yelled at Nathen, trying to find some sentence that could hurt his hated enemy.

  “You idiot! You’re only feeding an appetite for war that can never be satisfied! We’ll fight ourselves into extinction! And it’s all your fault!”

  “Yeah?” shot back Nathen. Lupell fell silent, out of breath as he sagged on the pile of trash. Nathen leaned in a little closer.

  “Alright. Let’s say for a second that you’re right. The Human race surrenders, the war ends, and things become peaceful. We're rolled under the control of the Yew Alliance, and for argument's sake, let's say the War Hive leaves us alone. Everything's just as you wanted it. What then? Do you think anyone is going to view you as the man who peacefully ended the Solar War?”

  Lupell froze. Nathen pressed his point.

  “No, you’ll be viewed as the Human who put an alien enemy before his own race. The man who sold his race to eternal slavery for a moment of safety. The man who bought his peoples bondage with the blood of his kin. The man who lost a war for the promise of imprisonment. And that’s exactly what you did.”

  Lupell had fallen deathly silent, looking at Nathen with a sort of frozen horror.

  “T-That will never happen,” he said, trying to make it sound like a taunt. “You'll kill me out of spite. It’s what you murderers do best.”

  Nathen looked at Lupell with mock surprise.

  “Haven't you ever heard of a certain Vorch proverb regarding prisoners?”

  Lupell's face turned white as Nathen hissed out the phrase.

  “Sheethkal nal Hrath.”

  Privileged is Death.

  “I’m not going to kill you,” Nathen said. “I’m not like you. I kill when I have to. You kill because you don't know what else to do. No. You can stand galactic trial and go to a prison planet where you’ll spend a year or two in a four-by-four windowless box, similar to the one you’re in right now. For now your cell is this trash compactor. Until its time for the right people to execute you as a turncoat. It wil
l not be a very glorious experience. And everyone will know about it. Beyond the fame of any name—beyond an Ambassador turned avenger or an Admiral turned champion—people of every distant star, every wayward ship, and every planetary power, will know the name: Lupell, the Traitor.”

  A chill swept through the hangar as the air processors began their cycle.

  Nathen paused to observe Lupell’s reaction. The traitor was staring blankly at the wall beneath the hatch. The weight of his position, his fate, was devouring him in silent agony.

  The elite finished by holding up the traitor’s handgun.

  “You dropped this.”

  Nathen tossed the weapon into the pile of trash next to Lupell and shut the hatch. Once it was securely closed, Nathen rested a closed fist against the surface, not looking up at Helen. She’d known better than to interrupt the brief confrontation she’d observed upon re-entering the room.

  The two head ESC’s were silent for several minutes, neither speaking nor moving. Nathen simply listened. Four full minutes passed during which nothing was said.

  A muffled gunshot emitted from inside the trash compactor, and then the silence was restored.

  Nathen looked up at Helen. Their eyes met, and the two ESC’s understood just what the other was thinking. Nathen removed his closed fist from the trash chamber door and turned to fully face Helen.

  “Wait a half hour after we’ve left the station, then dump the trash.”

  Helen nodded, glancing once at the trash chamber’s door as Nathen walked by. She reached out and rested a fist against the hatch, thinking.

  “And dump this with it.”

  Helen turned and snapped her hand out, snatching the projectile as it fell through the air toward her. She turned her hand over and opened it.

  Wrapped in her palm was the official military identification of Nathen Brampton, retired Marine.

  Helen looked up in concern, but Nathen had already turned away. He didn’t look back as he exited the hangar. Helen watched the door close before looking back at the last link of her commander’s original identity, tossing the ID gently in her hand.

  “Sure thing, Boss,” she said, regretfully.

  Lupell had caused far too much death and destruction to deserve Nathen’s pity, and his betrayal had occupied Nathen’s thoughts long enough. The capacity for self destruction within a man were discouraging. But it was like Nathen had always reminded himself at the end of each mission. Things—good or bad—were meant to pass, but the battle never ended. The ability to win or lose depended on the willingness to fight.

  But for now, it was over. Mission completed.

  And Nathen Brampton could finally rest.