by J. A. Scorch
"You need to stop, Ryder. You are going to hurt yourself."
Inside the ship, the focused man had a look of determination plastered all over his face, not giving Porter the time of day as he operated the vehicle. That was nothing compared to the problem Porter managed to predict. Sitting in the seat next to Ryder was the D-block kit, waiting to be used.
"Don't do it, Specialist. There's so much to live for. Wouldn't your girlfriend want you to keep on going and do what you can to honor her name?" Porter had no idea if the man was listening or if he even had his comm active. Time was against him, so he banged on the dome for some attention.
Ryder's eyes snapped up to Porter's and immediately scowled. The man who had caused him the pain was floating in front of him, demanding more and more. The specialist grabbed the claw controls and tried to seize Porter with both arms at once. Porter anticipated the move and pushed himself down and away from the sharp pincers capable of crushing steel. He shuffled back around and under the ship as Briggs arrived.
"He won't listen. Plus, he just tried to kill me with the claws."
"Idiot. Well, at least he hasn't blown himself up or anything as stupid."
"That's just it. He's got the D-block kit out already. I think he's about to set them off any minute now."
"Shit," Briggs said. "What do we do?"
The Rascal bashed into another beam as the two pilots held on using their magboots. The crash jostled them about for a moment before Porter had time to raise his blaster. "We need to stop him."
"Are you serious? Won't we get into trouble or something?"
"We don't have a choice. Plus, this guy is threatening to kill us. It's self-defense."
"Okay," Briggs said, nodding away. "You're right, I guess. We don't have a choice."
"All right. Follow my lead. His suit has no armor, so we won't have to hit him more than once in the shoulder. And watch your head, too. He's got a firm understanding of those claws. Almost got me before."
The two pilots crept up and over the ship toward the front. Briggs and Porter both flanked the forward panel, keeping an eye on the arms.
"We need a clear shot into the Rascal. The first few hits will be absorbed by the canopy. He'll see what we're doing and either try to knock us off or go for the D-block. We need to shoot fast and aim for a disabling shot. Got it?"
Briggs closed his eyes for a moment and then nodded quickly. "I can do this."
"Ready?" Porter asked.
Briggs nodded.
As one, they swept around and aimed their weapons at the specialist. Ryder spotted them straight away and didn't budge an inch or make any attempt to surrender. He simply moved the controls up and tried to beat the pilots off with the claws.
"Shoot now," Porter yelled. He fired off a few shots and saw the panel take the damage. Briggs did the same. The front of the ship began to crack in the two places the pilots were hitting, each spot splintering.
"Keep shooting. He's reaching for the D-block." Porter aimed his laser at Ryder's shoulder and fired another three shots. The canopy finally shattered as the specialist reached the detonator, but a hit in the arm wouldn't stop the crazed man. Porter knew what he had to do. After a slight adjustment in aim, he squeezed off one round at the specialist's helmet. Ryder's head bounced against the pilot’s seat, prompting him to turn around to face Porter with two wild eyes. One of Ryder’s hands was inside the D-block kit, fumbling over the detonator. The explosives were pre-wired and ready to go. Ryder projected a telling stare before the final shot slammed into his skull. The searing laser stabbed into his head and pierced his brain, ceasing his ability to detonate the explosives.
Ryder's hand loosened and let the kit go. It floated away to the side and gently bounced off the Rascal's wall. Porter pulled himself inside the ship to deactivate the D-block before it went off on its own. He forced himself down into the seat beside the dead engineer and took control of the vessel, moving it away from the debris.
"What happened?" Briggs asked as he gazed at the dead man. "I thought we were only trying to wound him?"
Porter glanced up at Briggs for a moment then back down to the console. "Hop in. We need to clear a path for Smith."
"Yes, sir. What about Ryder?"
Scowling at the dead man beside him, Porter grabbed his body and shoved it through the gap out of the Rascal. As the body drifted out into the remains of the MBC Mayall, Porter shook his head. "He made his choice. Now hop in. We have to fly back to the Andromeda."
Chapter Thirty-Two
After the fifth time down and up the elevator shaft, Teve's pack beeped for a battery change. A sense of relief washed over him to be out of the darkened hole while his fellow Special Forces soldiers were climbing back up. During three of the drops, one of them came to within a foot of hitting his head as he hugged the wall. Enough was enough.
Ward wouldn't let him rest, though, making Teve do push-ups until the others had finished their climbs. Finally, Bean rolled over the edge of the open door and dropped down to the ground beside his fellow privates and joined in the forced exercise.
"Well, well, well," Ward said. "That wasn't the worst display I've ever seen, but you all still make me sick."
The sentence was the nicest one out of Ward's mouth since Teve arrived. He dipped down for another push-up as the lieutenant hadn't told them to stop yet.
"Okay, Privates. Quit messing around on the ground and give me one full lap around Pendle. You should all remember the way by now."
Teve climbed to his feet, shaking off some dirt. "Sir. Question."
"Out with it, Tower."
"The training we just completed. You mentioned we'd be dropping in to infiltrate the Zeal base. When will this be happening?"
Ward stomped over to Teve and got within an inch of his face. "This is some top-secret information, Private, but the worthy among you will be one team of many to hit the base while the regulars keep the Zeal busy and distracted. As to the timeline, that's classified."
"What about the army the Zeal have been building, sir? I saw first-hand the thousands of human hybrids in the works. Some of them were even clones covered in weird bladed armor. How are we supposed to handle them?"
Ward's nostrils flared. "They warned me about you, Private. Said you've been through some shit. Let me tell you this: Our intelligence on the inner workings of the Zeal base and the human hybrids is limited. For all we know, they could be fully operational and geared up for an attack on Phoenix, but our latest suspicions peg them as works in progress. Only a handful, as you say, are capable of combat."
"More than capable. The clone I came across could have killed me in two seconds. He was toying with me, sir. Just messing around and showing off."
"Dismissed," Ward said turning to the other privates. "Tower and I need a moment in private."
Bean, Romeo, Red, and Pocket all stood from the filthy concrete and scuttled away from the two men. Teve glanced sideways at the group, seeing if any of them were trying to hang back and overhear the conversation. None of them dared to eavesdrop.
Ward cleared his throat and stepped back a little. "You're close to this mission. Probably too close for my liking. Frankly, you'd serve the cause better as an adviser, but here we are."
Teve concentrated on Ward's gaze and let a moment pass by before he asked his next question. "Can I ask you something, sir? How desperate is the UEF to get this done?"
"As desperate as they come. The MAF is about to blast the final Zeal carrier out of Earth's orbit and become the new superpower in the region. Meanwhile, the higher-ups down here don't want to rely on the Martians for a rescue, so a full-scale, synchronized assault on as many Zeal bases as possible will be attempted across the globe."
"Every base is going to be hit?"
"About half. Most of the occupied zones have no armed forces capable of taking on their local base. The UEF is already spread too thin around the planet, so those other bases will need to be dealt with at a later stage."
; "This is nuts. What if the plan fails? The UEF will lose the majority of its forces in the same day."
"Exactly why people like you and I are involved, Private. This Zeal virus isn't contained to Los Angeles. We've got cases in every city across the globe, all with the same results: eventual death or enhanced abilities."
"Eventual death? What do you mean?"
"Take it easy, soldier. You are fine. You're one of the lucky ones who—"
"I know that, but what about the rest? I know people who got infected that haven't been accepted into the UESF."
Ward shook his head and stared at the floor. "Well, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but they're not going to survive more than a month from their initial infection unless they receive around-the-clock treatment the UEF simply can't afford."
Teve stumbled backward. Was Mish one of the unlucky ones? Or had she gone past that point? He witnessed her jump down from the bridge like it was nothing. Surely that meant something.
"Is everything okay, Private?" Ward asked, a firmness ever present in his voice.
"I'm fine, sir. I just know someone who got infected. I'm not sure if they got accepted into the Special Forces or if they are going to die as you say."
The lieutenant placed an arm on his shoulder for a moment. "Private, if you're not seeing them here, chances are they're not going to make it. Your group is the last on the list to be trained before the assault takes place."
Teve felt his fists tighten up as well as his entire back. He stood on his toes and dropped down shaking his head, not willing to accept the truth.
"Privates," Ward shouted, stepping away from Teve. "Get your asses in here. It's time to move on to the next task."
Teve faced away from the approaching group. He blocked out Ward's shouting and tried to force his brain to move on from Mish. She was going to die from the virus unless she got the proper treatment he knew Doctor Hoang wouldn't have provided her. The man used her to his advantage and pushed Teve to wherever he wanted him.
With thoughts of Mish, the battle, and vengeance, Teve did everything he could not to run away from Ward and try to escape Pendle. If he managed to survive the Zeal, he would track Hoang down and snap his smug little neck if five places at once.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Porter welcomed the sight of the dead carrier in the rearview array display of the Andromeda’s transporter. He couldn't leave the floating coffin soon enough. Briggs convinced him to take Ryder's body to the remaining crew on board. They explained the events that led to Ryder's death, emphasizing the dead girlfriend to the concerned personnel.
As Briggs piloted the ship back to the Andromeda, he glanced sideways at Porter a few too many times.
"What?" Porter asked.
"Nothing, man," Briggs said as he looked away.
"Come on, out with it."
Briggs shook his head. "I've never seen you like that."
"Like what?" Porter's brows tightened.
"Like so uncaring about killing. It's one thing to kill a bunch of Zeal, but to kill Ryder without a care. Well, it's a dangerous path to go down."
"He got what he wanted. Plus, he was about to end our lives. Would you have preferred us to die as well as him?"
"Of course not. Never mind, okay? I'm just worried you're taking on too much responsibility and becoming a different person."
Porter leaned over the pilot's console and engaged the autopilot before facing Briggs.
"And what kind of person is that, huh? The kind that gets things done? Because the way I see it, if I left you people alone to handle this war, we'd all be dead."
"Come on, Porter. I think you might be exaggerating a little. Sure you've gone above and beyond, but we all have."
Breaking his stare, Porter held his forehead in his hands and went to rub his eyes. His spacesuit wouldn't allow it, though. "I'm sorry," he said. "I just—"
"Don't be. I know you're trying to deal with what happened back there. Just remember I'm always here. I've got your back until the end."
"Thanks, Briggs. Beats me why they didn't give you the promotion to Captain. You deserve it more."
"These titles are all bullshit. The Zeal couldn't care less if you are a recruit or a five-star general. They'll kill you all the same."
Porter let Briggs' calming words work into his mind as he closed his eyes. Ryder's damning face jumped out at him. He'd never forget the look in the man's eyes before he ended his life.
"How is Smith doing back there?" Briggs asked, breaking Porter's thoughts.
Porter brought up a view of the X90S. With stealth mode disabled, the ship could be tracked as per normal. "He's fine. He's probably never flown anything so sophisticated in his life."
"I can't wait to see what she can do," Briggs said.
"She's an unusual bird. Slow to maneuver, but the stealth modules are something else. It's a strange feeling being an invisible fly on the wall in that thing. Of course, there are a few bugs that come up. First time I flew one, the modules failed, and my engine died."
"Sounds like an MAF ship to me."
The two pilots shared a chuckle as they approached the Andromeda. Porter radioed ahead, requesting permission to land. The usual landing routine followed, directing them to a deck to gently touch down on while Smith used a Stalker level. Garcia greeted Porter and Briggs as they climbed out of the transporter, helmets in hand.
"Commodore? Is everything okay?"
"I could ask you the same damn thing."
It wasn't until Porter heard the sting in Garcia's voice that he noticed her corporal guards following her around. Porter hadn't seen the two thugs since Garcia incarcerated him for disobeying orders.
"What's wrong?"
"What's wrong?" she repeated, raising both eyebrows. "What's fucking wrong, Captain is I sent you out to a sister ship to retrieve a goddamn asset, and you murder somebody."
"Sir, please—"
"I don't give a shit about your excuses. The last time I checked, we didn't go around killing one another for resources."
"It was me, too, ma'am," Briggs said.
Garcia honed in on the lieutenant. "Did I ask you to speak, pilot?"
"No, ma'am."
"Then shut the hell up."
Rubbing at her eyes with one hand while the other refused to leave her hip, Garcia paced around on the spot.
"Are we in trouble, ma'am?" Porter asked.
"At the moment, no. But after this operation is done with, you both could be up for a trial."
Briggs and Porter shouted at the same time, each talking over one another in defense of what happened.
"Silence," Garcia yelled. "I don't give a shit that you shot some moron on another ship. What pisses me right off is the fact you would do anything to compromise the mission."
Porter went to speak but stopped himself. He figured Briggs had done the same by the silence coming from his mouth.
Garcia muttered a few more insults their way while her guards continued to stare and smirk.
"Are you finished, ma'am?" Porter asked. "Because we managed to secure a second X90S for the mission. Only one of the two birds will have the cargo bay, but it can't hurt to utilize another set of invisible eyes in the air."
Garcia slowly stepped over to them. "You two got lucky with that find. Now get out of here. You have two hours until we launch. I want you both in the control room in one hour. I strongly suggest you don't kill anyone in that time. Dismissed."
Porter left Garcia's sight without breaking a step. Briggs trailed behind and caught up to him.
"What a load of shit, man. Can you believe this?"
"Unfortunately, I can. Fleet politics can be more dangerous than the actual missions."
"That crew sold us out. Now we might face a trial."
Porter slowed down a touch. "That's okay. We won't be alive to see it at this rate." He smiled and continued, leaving a half-defeated Briggs behind.
"No screw that," Briggs shouted after him and caught up a s
econd time. "We're going to survive just to piss them off and make them go through that trial."
"I like it. Knowing Garcia, her display was only for show to keep the idiots up top happy."
"Makes sense. It seems to me at least half of the commodore's job involves her lips and Command's ass."
Porter shared a laugh with his wingman as he continued traveling down the hall.
"Where are you headed?" Briggs asked.
"We've got one hour left," he said as he pulled out a field tablet. "I'm going to spend it with Nicole." He sent her a quick message to meet in the hidden area behind the deck, knowing she'd do whatever she could to break away from her duties.
"I like it. I might get in a nap before we jet out again."
"Take our quarters. I'll be meeting her elsewhere."
The two came to a stop at a split in the corridor. "I'll catch you later, Briggs," Porter said as he slapped him on the bicep.
"You, too, man. Have a good, uh, meeting with Cannon. Tell her I said hi."
"Will do." He waved over his shoulder as Nicole messaged him back telling him to hurry up. Porter couldn't help smiling, but his grin faded as he thought about Ryder and his girlfriend. Soon, there was a good chance Porter and Cannon would be in the same situation.
Chapter Thirty-Four
After a few more hours, Ward finally allowed the group of privates to grab some rest. The five of them had been training for longer than Teve could remember. He only had a vague idea of when he even arrived at Pendle.
Discovering some layout cots to sleep on in the empty mess, Teve found himself falling asleep after a few minutes. His dreams were still the same.
Hauntings of the Zeal base filled his every thought as X beckoned him back to the Orb. His control, however, seemed less and less commanding with every day that passed. X was beginning to dissolve into the distance as a new thought entered his mind: Mish.