Lone Star Renegades

by Mark Wayne McGinnis

  Bodies lay motionless everywhere, and not all were wearing gray battle suits. To Collin’s right lay the quiet cheerleader, Karen Muller. He looked down at her—into her visor. Her eyes were open but fixed—not moving.

  “Oh no … Doug … Doug Summerfield’s dead,” Lydia said. She then spotted Karen’s body lying at Collin’s feet and ran to her side. “No! Not Karen.” She sat down, her hands resting on the front of Karen’s battle suit. “What are we doing here? We’re not soldiers.” The defeat in Lydia’s voice surprised Collin.

  “Yeah, well tell the thirty-five dead Kardon Guard guys that, Lydia,” Clifford Bosh said. “Do you have any doubt that they would have killed every last one of us?” Bosh then pointed an outstretched finger at Collin. “You! That was f-ing genius. The whole thing: hanging-from-the-rafters-idea. Genius!”

  Lydia was still kneeling by her dead friend. Eventually she stood up and looked at Collin. “He’s right … we’re all alive because of what you did. I’m just … I can’t believe I killed someone today … I killed two of them; saw them fall to the deck and die.”

  Tink staggered over and leaned against Collin. Lydia, pulled from her inner conflict, took a look at the scorched patch on the right side of Tina’s battle suit.

  “It doesn’t look like it penetrated your suit. I think you just got a little burned.”

  “Well, it feels like I got hit by a bolt of lightning. I think I’ll live, though.” Tina gave Collin a weary smile. “That was something … I can’t believe what we just did.” Then her eyes leveled on Karen’s corpse and quickly filled with tears. “Not Karen …”

  Darren and Humphrey reentered the armory. Humphrey’s visor had a scorch mark on it, where he’d apparently taken a direct head shot.

  “Rifle range is secure,” Darren said.

  “We also found this,” Humphrey said, holding up a big weapon. Twice the size of a Doubler, the energy weapon was thick and bulbous at the middle and there were five barrels converging into one. “I’m calling it the Cinco de Mayo.”

  “Does it work?” Collin asked, already wishing it was anyone but Humphrey who’d found the thing.

  “Oh, it works all right. It takes the head or arm or leg off someone with one shot. Tried it on a few of the dead Kardon guys.”

  Collin slowly nodded. The weapon certainly could be a useful addition to their team. “My only suggestion … don’t point it at any of the outside bulkheads … or any of us.”

  Humphrey grinned.

  Collin took stock of who was left. They were down to twenty-one. He couldn’t expect them to have such continuing good fortune going up against the hundreds, if not thousands, of Kardon Guard forces now occupying Nero Station. They needed a plan.

  There was an annoying blinking light showing in the top right corner of his HUD. He needed to figure out how to disable it or he’d end up going crazy. He stared at the blink for several long seconds, which caused a drop-down menu to appear just below it. There were three selection choices:

  -- Join Open Command Channel

  -- Join Direct Command Channel

  -- Disregard

  Collin selected the -- Join Direct Command Channel option.

  “Frost!”

  Collin recognized Captain Primo’s voice immediately. “Captain Primo?”

  “Yes. I see you’ve gotten yourselves into some battle suits. Good work. I also see you’ve defeated a Kardon Guard platoon. Not sure how you accomplished that but … thank you.”

  “Where are you, Captain? How do you know—”

  “Listen to me. I’m still on board the Tyrant. We’ve been battling the Kardon forces, mostly their Marauders … they’re all around the station. We’re basically holding our own. Any Brotherhood forces on Nero Station are minimum—actually, I think all have been killed … except the recruits.”

  Collin let that sink in for a few beats. “What is it you want us to do?”

  “I’m glad you asked, Frost. There are close to three thousand enemy forces still on board the station. Nero Station, even when damaged, would be a tremendously strategic stronghold for Commandant Nari, and threaten the very existence of the Brotherhood. What I want you to do is blow up Nero Station … blow it before they leave.”

  “If you think we’re going to embark on some kind of suicide mission, think again, Captain. This isn’t our war.”

  “Well, it has become your war; but no, it doesn’t have to be a suicide mission. Not if you’re smart. Listen up, there’s more …”

  Chapter 36

  Collin’s father often talked to him about the stress of combat, from his multiple tours in Afghanistan—the debilitating loss of energy a combatant felt once the adrenalin rush from life and death situations, from battle, invariably started to wear off. That weakness was experienced now, and something else: eighteen teenagers and three Daccian cat creatures had all been forced to kill in order to survive. Although Collin wasn’t quite sure Humphrey actually fit into that category, for the most part the Lone Stars were traumatized, in no shape to continue. The emotional toll was too much on a bunch of kids.

  They moved out into the larger rifle range area where they removed their helmets and broke into small clusters—everyone talking in hushed tones. Collin asked Humphrey to clean up the mess he’d made—namely, shredded body parts from the effects of his new Cinco do Mayo weapon.

  “Can everyone huddle around?” Collin asked.

  With the exception of Bubba, DiMaggio and Lydia, no one moved. Even Tink stayed seated on the deck, talking to another cheerleader, Heather Primm.

  “Does anyone here want to go home—get out of this place?” Bubba added, his voice loud and angry.

  Slowly, at first, they made their way over to where Collin was standing and formed a semicircle around him.

  “I’ve been in contact with Captain Primo.”

  “He’s still alive?” Darren asked, looking somewhat more interested.

  “He’s alive and he says they’re holding their own in space.”

  “Are they going to rescue us … get us out of here?” Humphrey asked.

  “No. As far as they’re concerned, Nero Station’s been lost to the enemy. He believes there are somewhere in the neighborhood of three thousand Kardon Guard soldiers here. For the most part, Brotherhood forces have been wiped out.”

  Collin saw disappointment and then fear showing on the faces around him.

  “You said ‘for the most part.’ So there are some Brotherhood forces left?” Darren asked.

  “Mostly recruits … maybe a hundred, including us. And including the admiral, too, up on the top level.”

  “So … what does the captain want us to do?” DiMaggio asked, already looking suspicious.

  Collin hesitated, trying to think of a way to phrase things so they wouldn’t sound preposterous. “He wants us to blow up this space station.”

  Anger erupted around him. It seemed they all had something to say now, and they weren’t holding back—using four letter words to express themselves.

  “He also wants us to rescue the admiral, and any others found alive, if there’s time. Communications are out on Level 20, but he’s pretty sure there are some still alive up there.” He waited until the noise—the shouts of no, fuck no, and no way, subsided—before continuing: “He also said that if we accomplish this mission, which he has almost no faith in our being able to achieve, he’ll get us back to Earth … no waiting a year … just right away.”

  “Do you trust him?” Lydia asked skeptically. “How do we know he’ll follow through with his promise?”

  “He’s been straight with us up to now. I think he’s being honest. I also think he feels fairly safe making that promise. The odds of our succeeding are almost zero … he made no attempt to hide that fact.”

  “So you want to do this?” Bubba asked.

  “Yeah, I guess I do. I’d rather follow a plan, even one as crazy as this, than wait around for the next platoon of Kardon Guards to find us and kill us.”
<
br />   Surprisingly, it was Humphrey who was the first to agree. “I’m in.” He held up the Cinco de Mayo. “I’m definitely in.”

  Each of them said they were on board or simply nodded their assent.

  “One question,” DiMaggio said. “You said the captain wants us to blow the station and rescue those on the top level of the station. Isn’t that ass-backward? If we blow the station first … however we accomplish something like that … then there won’t be anyone around to rescue.”

  “That’s a good point, so let me lay things out the way the captain did for me. This station is powered by three fusion reactors. They are far more efficient and safer than the nuclear reactors we have back on Earth. Getting one of these things to become unstable and eventually blow up requires specific steps.”

  “Won’t the other two reactors just take over for the one we bring down?” DiMaggio asked.

  Collin shook his head. “Once we’ve made the reactor unstable, it inevitably blows up … ka-boom! The other reactors will only add to the explosion. But here’s where things get a little dicey. The captain wasn’t completely sure how much time we’d have once we make a reactor unstable. It could be one hour, it could be three … He thinks it’s closer to one hour. We’ll have one hour to get to the top level and rescue the admiral and the other Brotherhood forces.”

  Discussion broke out between the Lone Stars. Bubba held up a hand. “Where are these reactors located?”

  “Four levels up. And one more thing … the captain doesn’t think the Kardon forces will hang around for very long. We need to move fast if we’re going to do this.”

  * * *

  How long before more Kardon Guards arrive, perhaps in even greater numbers? Collin wondered. Again, he prodded the teens and the three Daccians to hurry. They spent the next ten minutes swapping out drained power packs for fresh ones for their energy weapons and fine-tuning their still-rough mission plan. Together, the Lone Stars left the rifle range. It wasn’t long before they reached their next major obstacle. They converged at the elevator, and Bubba slammed a big fist above the small panel to the left of the elevator doors. “Elevator’s shut down. We’re trapped down here,” he said.

  “I’m not completely surprised,” Collin answered. “They know we’re down here … it just makes sense they’d try to isolate us until they can assemble enough forces to wipe us out.”

  “What do we do?” Bubba asked.

  “Come on, Bubba … we’re not stuck at all,” Collin said, backing away from the elevator. He pointed a finger skyward: “We’ve already found our way out of here.”

  Comprehension crossed Bubba’s face about the same time it crossed the others’s.

  “The corridor,” Tink said. “Right?”

  “That’s right, Tink … we’re not trapped down here, not even close.” Collin looked over his shoulder as he ran toward the pile of girders that had originally blocked their progress. He waited for the others to catch up, gazing up into the dark recesses of the sub-deck, and beyond it, to what was clearly Level 2.

  “I’ll go first. Check out if anyone’s up there before we all go up,” Collin said.

  “Wait … I’ll go. I’m the smallest … the least likely to be spotted,” Tink said, moving to a spot directly below the widest opening above them.

  “You sure? How’s your side feel?”

  “My side still hurts but it’s okay … I can do this.”

  Collin continued to stare at the small cheerleader. More and more he’d gotten attached to her, in a brotherly way. Protective.

  “Let her go if she wants to, Frost,” Darren chimed in, looking anxious to get things rolling.

  Collin nodded and then held up a hand. “Reconnaissance only … just take a look and report back. Don’t go all the way up onto Level 2.”

  “Yes, sir!” she replied, standing erect and giving a mock salute.

  Everyone took a step back from her—giving her room to reposition herself. She handed her Doubler to Collin, looked up, bent her legs, and leapt.

  Collin couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Tink flying upward, her arms stretched out above her head.

  “Super woman to the rescue!” Lydia said, smiling, and the other Lone Stars smiled too.

  She easily made it up to the lowest-hanging crossbeam. She hung there, looking down for a few seconds, before letting go with one hand and waving to those below.

  Collin smiled and pointed above her, a gesture prompting her to get moving. She pulled herself up like a gymnast on a high bar, bringing one leg up first, and then the other, and slowly stood. Collin could see she was figuring out her next best move—the route she’d need to take from her current position. She walked along the girder with her arms outstretched, as if walking a tightrope. From there she was able to pull herself up to another beam, or something; it was too dark for Collin to clearly see what. Then she was gone from sight.

  Collin opened a channel to Tink. “How’s it look up there?”

  “It looks dark and kinda creepy. Why did I volunteer for this?”

  He heard her straining, her breathing become more labored. “This part would have been easier for a guy,” she said. “Lots of stuff in the way that I have to move. OK, I’m about to look over the edge of the Level 2 deck. Hold on.”

  Collin had mirrored her HUD and was able to see pretty much what she was seeing. The thumbnail image went first from almost total blackness to an illuminated view of an empty corridor. The view rotated around as Tink turned her head to look in the other direction.

  Collin sucked in a breath at what he saw in his HUD. Tink screamed.

  Chapter 37

  The young Brotherhood recruit was obviously dead. His lifeless eyes stared directly back into Tink’s visor. Collin immediately recognized the Brave Heart Chain member from the Pangallo game. He’d taken plasma fire to his throat.

  Tink was on the move again. “Damn it!” Collin said aloud. He watched as she pulled herself up and onto the Level 2 deck. “Tink, hold there … let us catch up. It’s not safe—”

  “No one’s here. None of those little icon things are showing on my HUD,” she told him.

  “I can see that, but just hold up, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Collin was surprised to see Darren and Humphrey had already leapt. Both made it to the same girder Tink had initially clung to. Holding on to the girder with both hands, they gingerly pulled themselves up, straddling the beam. From there, they caught their Doublers, which were tossed up to them from below. They stood up then, moving across the girder, and were soon climbing out of sight, into the darkness above.

  “Who’s next?” Collin asked.

  One by one, and sometimes two by two, they took turns leaping up to the girder above. Collin was the last to go. By the time he’d climbed up, through the jumble of beams, conduits, and pipes, and pulled himself onto the Level 2 deck, the Lone Stars already there had migrated to the far end of the corridor. He pushed his way through the crowd until he could see what everyone was looking at. A wide-open compartment spread out before them. It was some kind of huge recreation deck, with a section dedicated to what looked like game consoles; another section had groupings of tables and chairs, while another held multiple ten-foot-wide displays—perhaps for entertainment. At present, all displays were showing the same video feed: A man wearing a fancy Kardon Guard uniform, with a long red cape hanging down from his shoulders, stood in the middle of a large room or compartment—that looked somewhat familiar. Collin then recognized just where the man was standing; it was the barracks right here, on Nero Station. The caped man was holding something in his arms that Collin also recognized: It was the same spiky, lethal-looking object that earlier had been mounted high above on the barrack’s bulkhead—a knight’s cleave-sheer—the thing used to remove an opposing knight’s head from his neck in battle.

  “Keep watching … it’s on some kind of repeating loop,” DiMaggio said.

  The man smiled. “I am Commandant Nari, supr
eme commander of the Kardon Guard, defender of her majesty, Queen Arabella Valora, and protector of her realm … the worlds of the Notares planetary system. I have taken control of this space station. I am specifically addressing the young recruits who refer to themselves as the Lone Stars. I am aware of your attack on one of my security teams and their subsequent demise. Impressive. Especially considering you’ve only completed one or two days of the Brotherhood’s basic training program.”

  The smile faded on Commandant Nari’s face. “It is time for you to lay down your weapons and turn yourselves in. I give you my word that no one will be harmed … you will be treated fairly. This is a limited time offer, with dire consequences for yourselves, as well as for other Brotherhood recruits.”

  The video feed changed to a wider perspective. DiMaggio tapped Collin’s arm. “This part is fucked up.”

  Sitting cross-legged in two rows were the Brave Heart recruits. Several were bleeding from their noses, or corners of their mouths. Other faces were bruised, or with eyelids swollen shut. Commandant Nari, still holding the cleave-sheer, walked between the two rows, swinging the diabolical-looking weapon back and forth near his feet. He stopped behind another familiar-looking recruit. It was Fico Lucan, the Brave Hearts’ commander.

  “For every fifteen minutes that transpires without your surrender, one of these fine young men will lose something dear to them.” Commandant Nari pulled the cleave-sheer up, doing something with his hands that made a mechanical ratcheting noise. Collin saw that the cleave-sheer now showed two curved blades, which were pulled back in opposite directions, away from each other. In a well-practiced, fluid motion, the commandant thrust the weapon into the back of Fico Lucan’s exposed neck. The two curved blades unlocked and swung around in a scissor motion. The blades sliced into the young recruit’s neck from opposite sides, all in a fraction of a second. Lucan’s head dropped to the deck; a gusher of pulsating blood sprayed into the air.