Malcolm could not be trusted; ergo the armour couldn’t either.
At least, it couldn’t once we got out of here. I was pretty sure, he’d want us in one piece to help get his Mutt out.
A plasma burst shot across the space we were entering and splattered against my chest armour, making all conspiracy theories currently churning away inside my mind evaporate.
I fired back as I rolled to the side. Odo had snuck behind a corner, and the Mutt had taken shelter in an open cell. I noticed he kept one hand on the door opening to make sure the damn thing didn’t shut and lock him back up in there.
He wasn’t a stupid Mutt, and that made me nervous.
The fire intensified as we were close to our destination now. It made me more hopeful that the Mutt had been right, and Zyla had been taken to the execution chamber. On the HUD map, it had only one entry and exit, which meant they could guard it well, with no chance of us sneaking up behind them. There weren’t any convenient maintenance hatches that would help us out either; not that crawling through them in full armour was advisable.
I poured on the plasma as Odo fired his railgun in short bursts to conserve ammo. He had to be getting low. He still had the rocket launcher and his plasma pistols, but Odo liked the heft and feel of a railgun firing kinetic projectiles.
The Mutt leaned out of the cell he was in and added his firepower to ours. I was reluctantly impressed with the precision of his shots; each one landed. They might not have downed the guard, but they did make an impression on his targets, and repetitively forced their arms wide, exposing weak spots on their armour.
“Time your shots with the Mutt’s,” I yelled at Odo. “Put a slug in each guard when they’re open.”
Odo nodded and waited for the Mutt to fire again. But the alien had hesitated when I’d spoken. I’d left my helmet speakers on, low enough for only the Mutt to hear. It helped to coordinate things, but I’d forgotten the Mutts’ distaste for the name we called them.
Mutts called themselves Mal as they were from the planet Malee. I’m not quite sure when we’d started calling them Mutts; I thought it might have been not long after we’d first met them. They weren’t doglike in the slightest unless you considered they had the determination of a pit bull crossed with the killer instincts of a Doberman. But someone had likened them to an Old Earth video game which had aliens in it called Mutons, and it had stuck.
The Mutt started firing again after a few seconds, and I let out a relieved breath of air. Odo timed his railgun shots with perfection, which made me happier to prove we were on equal footing with the alien.
In short order, we’d made a big enough dent in the Zenith guards’ defences that we could push forward. We breached the threshold of the room without fanfare. It was almost anticlimactic.
Waiting for us in the kill chamber were three Zeniths in full battle armour, one holding a plasma gun at Zyla’s head. The others had their rifles trained on us. It would have been a standoff as we were all in armour.
But then there was Zyla who wasn’t.
Oh, and the Mutt. Mustn’t forget the Mutt.
I scanned the room for further threats and came up empty. Keeping an eye on the Zeniths, I finally checked out my navigator.
She was black and blue. Her lip split open and weeping blood. She could barely see out of her right eye, and her left looked like it might have been permanently damaged. Her right arm was fractured in two places, and her left ankle was twisted in an unnatural angle. She wore paper-thin overalls that did not hide the blood. An alarming amount had stained her stomach region.
Anger coursed through me in a wave of unmitigated fury. Zyla blinked her one goodish eye and met my gaze; chin lifted proudly.
She’d survived. She’d not been broken. Whatever they’d been trying to get out of her, Zyla had determined to take it to her grave.
“Not today,” I murmured and then turned up my helmet’s speakers.
My visor was dark, but Zyla knew it was me without having to see my face. So far, Odo and I had kept ourselves camouflaged, but upon entering the chamber, we’d both simultaneously dropped the camo, better to negotiate.
I cleared my visor now. The Mutt was right. They knew who we were. At least, they knew we’d come for Zyla, and if they knew anything about our crew, they’d have figured out the large human was the engineer, and the thinner one was the captain of the Harpy.
There was no point hiding behind a mask now, and I wanted Zyla to see me.
“Sorry it took so long, Zy,” I drawled.
“No rush, Captain,” she replied, her words slurring slightly. “I could have lasted longer.”
My heart cracked at the baldfaced lie.
“We’re gonna get you out of this, don’t you worry,” I said.
“Never doubted you, sir.”
If I could have dug my heart out of my chest with my bare hands to spare me the pain of her words, I would have done it right then and there and handed it to her.
“Captain Jameson,” the Zenith with the plasma gun trained on Zyla’s head said. “It was unwise of you to come here.”
“So it’s been pointed out to me,” I replied, glancing at the Mutt, who was leaning against the gel wall beside the door opening, keeping one eye on the corridor at our back and another eye on the proceedings inside the room.
I was momentarily surprised to see he was guarding our backs like I’d asked him to.
“A visual and audio feed of this room is being transmitted to the appropriate authorities,” the Zenith told me, and Zyla spat on the floor in an obvious show of disgust.
I felt my brow furrow. Zy was better than that.
The Zenith thankfully ignored her.
“Your image and name will be known to all. Your futile efforts here dissected and an appropriate response undertaken. New Earth has just declared war.”
“Now why would you go and say that?” I drawled. “I haven’t had anything to do with New Earth in a decade. This is all on me.”
“There are always consequences to our actions that we don’t necessarily see,” the Zenith said. “A New Earther storms a Zenith secured facility and kills fifty of its guards to extract a Zenith national known to be involved in nuclear attacks on two planets already.”
I didn’t like how sure he was of Zyla’s involvement. And I also didn’t like how he overlooked the Mutt at my back. I checked my rear cameras on the HUD again, but the Mutt hadn’t moved from his watch.
“This is all very enlightening,” I said and then shot the Zenith in the centre of his forehead, right through the visor; the weakest part of his helmet.
Zyla jerked in her restraints, but Odo and the Mutt came out guns blazing. The report of the railgun was too loud, and the heat of the plasma pistol felt too hot to me.
I hadn’t been sure they’d react in time. Odo was good. And he was used to me doing stupid things without warning. But the Mutt had been an unknown and half of me had expected him to shoot me in the back while the last standing Zenith shot Odo.
Instead, it had gone like clockwork, and I was left shaking.
I forced myself into action, while Odo checked his weapons and the Mutt checked the hallway. I skidded to Zyla’s side on my knees, unsure where to touch her first. She was in a bad way, and anything I did would only make her hurt more than she undoubtedly did.
“How do you want to do this, Nav?” I asked.
“Restraints,” she mumbled, her head bowing, her chin hitting her chest.
I cut the restraints as carefully as I could and just managed to re-sheath the blade and catch Zyla before she crumpled. I lifted her up in my arms gingerly and turned to face Odo and the Mutt.
“We’ve got incoming,” the Mutt said conversationally.
“Rocket launcher,” I said to Odo.
“My pleasure,” he replied and readied the weapon.
He didn’t step into the corridor and face the oncoming threat. He went to one knee, rested the launcher on his shoulder, and aimed it at the
far wall of the room we were in.
“Fire in the hole!” he said cheerfully.
The rocket thunked, shot out of the tube, hung suspended in the air for a fraction of a second, and then ignited. And the north wall of the facility burst into a spray of lethal debris; gel wall, and reinforced bars, and polymers, and whatever else they had poured into its construction to make it appear impenetrable.
“Amateurs,” Odo said, replacing the launcher on his back even though he was now out of rockets to use in it.
I came up from the crouch I’d been in, my back to the wall and debris explosion, my chest and body protecting the fragile form in my arms.
The Mutt started firing as I walked through the dust toward the hole in the wall.
“Basic,” I said into the comm. “North wall. Exfil hot.”
“North wall, hot exfiltration, acknowledged. ETA t-minus thirty seconds.”
I peered around the corner of the wall and received a plasma shot from a nearby tower for my efforts. I ducked back, heart in my mouth, eyes assessing Zyla for any more damage. She was still unconscious, and I couldn’t see any fresh blood, so I breathed again as Odo fired a railgun burst toward the tower.
“We need to get out of here before the backup arrives!” Odo shouted, nodding toward where the Mutt was offering up plasma fire at the door.
“Does that thing close?” I yelled at the alien.
He pulled back, checked the control panel, and then hit something with a thick finger. The gel door slid closed, and then he shot the control panel all to shit with his plasma pistol. It sizzled and fizzed and then went dark; the door still in the closed position.
“Sixty seconds tops and they’ll have that open!” the Mutt shouted, rushing across the room to peer out of the hole Odo had created.
“That’s thirty seconds longer than we need,” I shouted back.
I could see the Harpy II on my HUD as it approached in full stealth mode. No heat signature, no exhaust plume, no silver bullet in the sky to fire at.
It touched down twenty metres away, within the line of sight of two towers.
“Take out the towers,” I said over the comm, shifting Zyla in my arms in preparation for running for the Harpy.
“Unable to comply,” the Basic told me. “Power source is limited.”
“Did you forget to recharge the batteries?” the Mutt asked from my side.
“There must be a leak in the camo system,” Odo advised. “Give me five minutes alone with her, and I’ll fix it.”
“Railguns?” I asked the Basic.
“I have used all available ammunition.”
“You have got to be kidding me,” I muttered. “Did Malcolm not think we’d need to shoot our way out of the system?”
“He has clearly overestimated your skills,” the Mutt replied.
“Just get me on board, and I’ll sort it out, Cap’n,” Odo shouted.
I nodded, shifted Zyla’s weight again, and yelled into the comms, “Ramp! Now!”
The ramp started to lower on the rear of the Harpy only visible to me because my HUD outlined it. I started running for it, increasing my speed with the use of the armour’s actuators. Plasma bolts shot down from the sky, but I could hear Odo and the Mutt firing back indiscriminately.
My foot hit the ramp, and the towers’ plasma shots went from me to the ship itself. If the camo went out, we’d be fluxed.
I headed directly toward the med bay, Zyla still in my arms, issuing orders over my helmet’s speakers.
“Lock it up, Mutt! Odo, get your arse down to engineering and sort out those weapons pronto! Basic, get us the flux out of here and don’t spare the horses!”
“There are no horses to spare, Captain,” the Basic said in its gentle monotone, but I felt the ship lift-off.
I lost my footing as the Basic began evasive manoeuvres, but it wasn’t enough to send me to the floor, and the gel wall morphed to catch me.
I rushed into the med bay and laid Zyla down on the scanner, making sure she was strapped in tightly before I set the machine to assess and treat her injuries automatically. I sent a silent thank you up to the stars that Malcolm hadn’t spared any chits on the tech for the med bay and started running toward the bridge before the first scan had even completed its cycle.
It occurred to me, as I stepped onto the bridge finally, that Malcolm had probably put the best medical equipment into the med bay for the Mutt we’d just rescued and not for Zyla.
That thought was backed up by the fact that the Mutt had beaten me to the bridge and was now sitting in the command chair, casually entering commands into the console.
“What the flux do you think you’re doing?” I demanded.
My fingers itched to pull a plasma pistol.
When the Mutt sat back, and I finally got a look at what he’d done on the vid-screen, I did pull my plasma pistol and aimed it at the side of his head.
“Back out of the ship’s system, right now!” I snapped.
“I don’t think so, Captain,” the Mutt said, smiling. “I have full and absolute control of the ship.”
Chapter Eleven
If I killed him, we’d crash.
It was almost worth it to wipe that smug look off the Mutt’s face. We’d been had. It had been a setup from the start. Malcolm had no doubt hoped we’d not get out of the facility, but for whatever reason, the Mutt had decided to take us with him.
But now he had control of the vessel.
I switched on my suit-to-suit comm and contacted Odo.
“There’s been a mutiny,” I said. “I’m locked out of the ship. The Mutt’s in charge.”
“On my way, Cap’n.”
“No, keep on the weapons and power drainage; we’re not out of the woods yet. I’ll deal with the Mutt.”
“Call me if you need me. I’ve restocked my railgun and the launcher.”
Yeah, I could just picture Odo blowing us out of the sky to get back at the Mutt.
“So,” I said, over the external speakers. “How do you want to play this?”
“It’s quite simple, really,” the Mutt said. “Stay out of my way, and your crew lives. But the Basic has been instructed to use lethal measures should you act against me or the vessel.”
“That’s gratitude for you,” I muttered. “Son of a bitch.”
“You’re alive, aren’t you? I could have left you behind down there.”
I fisted my hand but forced myself to lower the plasma pistol. Then I turned on my heel and left the bridge. There was nothing I could do right now, and I needed to check on Zyla.
The Mutt was right. He’d got us off the planet. Camo was clearly still functional because we hadn’t been shot out of the sky. And the evasive manoeuvres we were doing were simply to avoid traffic as we approached orbital velocity.
The escape seemed too easy, but then the tech on this boat was outstanding.
I walked into the med bay and looked down at my navigator. The fractures had been set, and her bruises were already paling. The swelling was down around her badly damaged eye, and I could see that it might well be saved if the stars aligned just right.
I scanned the screen for internal injuries. Zyla had a few, but the med bed had already addressed them. She’d hurt for a while, but Zeniths were tough. She’d survive.
I let out a breath of air and almost collapsed against the bed.
“Orbital velocity has been reached. Exiting exosphere.”
We’d done it. We’d got Zyla out and survived. Things had gone a bit sideways afterwards, but we were free and clear if we could reach the jump point.
“ETA to jump point entry?” I asked, unsure if the Basic would answer me now that the Mutt was in command.
But he must have thought some information was acceptable, because the Basic said, “ETA t-minus eight minutes.”
He was aiming for the near jump point. Not the one Odo and I had used to get here. It wasn’t a sound plan, but then, they’d be on high alert at the jump point we’d used
earlier. Not that they wouldn’t be at the main jump point for Zenthia.
“Vid-screen, please,” I instructed. “External view.”
The Basic complied, and I had to wonder just how far the Mutt would let me go with the ship’s systems. It seemed counterintuitive to let us have any access at all. He’d said he had full and absolute control of the ship. And yet, he’d allowed a certain grey area to exist where we could gain information.
It sure as hell wasn’t because he wanted to keep us happy. Or was it? A blanket lockout would get our backs up even more than they already were. This way, he could lull us into a false sense of security and then suffocate us in our berths.
I scrubbed a hand over my face and took in the external view of the space above Zenthia.
Zenthia Actual was around the far side, so timing had been in our favour for missing that juggernaut of technological superiority. Not that the way was clear. I counted six battleships and an untold number of smaller frigates and orbital patrol vessels between us and the jump point.
I comm’d Odo. “How’s the camo looking?”
“I was right; it’s the source of the power drain. We’ve got enough juice for another half hour, and then we’ll be running on vapours. Good news, though, I found crates of ammo for the railguns. I’m loading them now.”
“Half hour should be good to get us to the jump point,” I told him. “Unless we hit a mine.”
“How’s our Supreme Leader doing?”
“He’s locked himself in the bridge. Either he knows you’re dealing with the weapons and power issue, or he doesn’t give a flying flux.”
“Don’t see him as the uncaring type.” Said in a dry tone of voice.
I snorted.
“How’s Zyla?”
“Recovering. They did a number on her, Odo.”
“And we’re not gonna just sit by and let them get away with that, are we, Cap?”
“Hell, no. But first, we need to figure out how we’re going to get out of this mess. Assume anything we say over comms will be monitored. When you’re done, meet me in the mess.”
“And that won’t be bugged?”
Absolute Zero (The Sector Wars, Book 1) Page 12