Atlantis Quadrilogy - Box Set

by Brandon Ellis

  Anderle put his arms out. “What did I say?”

  “You said a lot,” replied Drew. He shook his head and stared up at the shield around them. This was going to be a long war against these invaders, he could feel it.

  “Come with us,” ordered Anderle, his hand on T-hacker’s shoulder.

  “No. Not anymore. You’ve proved your worth and it ain’t much.” He jogged away from his old friend, following the route the Jeeps and Humvees had taken, not caring if Anderle or T-hacker shot him in the back.

  Passing around a hanger, he realized his hacker buds were going their own way. He was left alive. So he peeked around a corner, watching them walk away, talking and laughing as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

  Typical hackers.

  He was on his own. He could think like he used to and be his genius self again. He was free of responsibilities.

  Bwooooom!

  An energy bomb lit up the sky just above the shield and he ducked, covering his eyes until the bright light died down.

  Who was he kidding? At this moment, free needed to be taken out of his vocabulary. It was time to find himself amidst the attacks while being stuck here in Whitefish for who knows how long.

  He dipped his head, agreeing with his own thoughts, and took a hefty step forward, welcoming the circumstances that were not in his control, and welcoming those that were.

  42

  Unknown, Callisto ~ J-Quadrant, Solar System

  Rivkah raised her energy and rushed the electrically charged energy bars that kept her and Bogle captive. “Let me out!”

  She touched the bars, her body jerked back and forth. She released, the electricity sizzling her skin, and dropped to the cold, dirt floor.

  Fox stood on the other side of the bars, Kajka Okbak next to him.

  Okbak glanced down at Fox and did that creepy brain-to-brain thing he did with his latest puppet. It made her stomach curl.

  Fox nodded. “He wants you to know that they will have Callisto secured in less than a week. The entire population will be slaves. The children, though, will be used as meat. So tender…”

  “What?” Rivkah reached out. “You are being controlled by Okbak. Don’t let him do this. Fight back.”

  Okbak turned and walked toward a door that led outside.

  Fox followed him, then twisted around. “You’re going to be meat as well. They will dine on your flesh tonight.” They exited the room and shut the door.

  She glanced over at Bogle. She was calm, almost glowing.

  Bogle patted the floor next to her. “Before you die, come here and meditate.”

  “Meditate?” She glanced back at the door. “I’ll pass.”

  “Do you think you’ll actually die?”

  Rivkah stood and paced. “I don’t care.” The energy bars were above her and on all sides, but not below her. “Bogle, remember when you broke open the ceiling in the tunnel under the Kelhoon camp?”

  Bogle nodded. “Of course.”

  “Break open the ground. We can escape that way.”

  “You’re still trying to escape? When are you going to figure out that you’re free even when in chains?”

  Rivkah wanted to punch Bogle up and down, left and right. Did she want to die too, and bring everyone down with her? “Break open the ground, now.”

  “If you close your eyes and concentrate, you’ll see that just below us and directly under the ground are energy bars as well. Breaking the ground won’t do any good.”

  “Then what do we do, beauty queen?”

  “I said, sit down. You’ll be able to focus on the bars with me. I’m trying to figure out how to bend them. It’s tricky, but two heads are always better than one. That is our means of escape.”

  “Screw it,” Rivkah sat down and closed her eyes. She thought of the bars in front of her, imagining them as if they were rubber. In her mind’s eyes, she put her hand on the bars and pulled them outward, bending them, giving her enough room to slip through them.

  “There you go, Rivkah. You’re much better than I am,” said Bogle.

  Rivkah opened her eyes. The energy bars were bent, giving her enough room to escape. “How did I –”

  “Your Chi is powerful.” Bogle stood, extending her hand for Rivkah.

  A click pierced the air. The door in front of them shuddered, then opened. A massive man walked in, a hood covering his face.

  He bowed, then pulled the hood back, revealing that he was a lion. “My name is Abdu.”

  He extended his paw through the energy bars. Rivkah took it. His paw was soft and warm. A sensation ran through them to her, sending a peaceful flow of Chi through Rivkah, settling her nerves.

  Rivkah took a step forward. “Where did you come from?”

  “If you two follow me, I can get you back to Jaxx.”

  “Jaxx?” said Rivkah. “He’s here?”

  Abdu nodded his head. “Not here at the moment, but he is on Callisto. And he’s waiting for you.”

  Rivkah wanted to splay her fingers over her heart. Her bad-ass mask she covered herself in began to fade. She wanted to cry, but most importantly, she wanted to run to him. She glanced over her shoulder. “Bogle, Jaxx is back.”

  Bogle smiled. “The biggest piece of the puzzle. Very good. We’re one step closer to fulfilling the prophecy.”

  Rivkah bit her lip, concealing a grin. She didn’t want to psych herself out and be too optimistic with the sudden change of events, plus they needed to escape out of this structure, and now. She needed to stay focused and collected.

  She slipped through the energy bars with Bogle following her closely behind. She crossed her hands in front of her. “Abdu, lead us to him.”

  “As you wish,” he responded, pulling his hood back over his head. He turned around and headed for the door.

  For the first time, Rivkah felt she hadn’t failed and dumb-ass luck was on her side. And soon, Jaxx would be by her side and they’d set this galaxy straight again, one way or another.

  43

  Edge of J-Quadrant, Starship Atlantis (Slipping Further Away from Jupiter)

  “Put this on,” Craig handed Slade a mask.

  Slade held the mask in his hand. It was ridiculous. Thank God the mask wasn’t of an American president. But a clown? He tossed it on the floor. He wasn’t going to wear a clown’s mask. “Mr. President...you’ve had your way on this trip more often than I care to remember, but that stops here. You’re not having your way with this clown mask.”

  Craig gave a hard nod, then lifted one eyebrow. “You’re putting it on. You don’t have to wear it long.” He gave Slade a long look. “Suit yourself. You have the frequencies?”

  “Yes. They are the same frequencies that Rivkah, Jaxx, and Fox used to open the portal and shoot them from M-quadrant to J-quadrant. I’m thinking it put them directly in Callisto’s orbit.”

  Commotion came over the Kelhoon, all of whom were glaring at Slade and Craig. A Kelhoon, potentially the leader of the two dozen warriors, stepped a few paces forward. “Konjaka najoon.”

  Slade crossed his arms and gave the death stare. “You go when we say you go. I have Kajka Okbak, your fucking leader, giving me full authority over you guys. Do you understand?”

  The Kelhoon warrior turned, facing his soldiers. He pointed at the door and barked an order.

  Slade pulled out his phaser, turned off the safety, and targeted the leader. He raised his gun and pulled the trigger.

  The Kelhoon leader jumped and fell on his back, holding his ankle. He spun around, screaming in agony. “Koojanaka ja!”

  “Because you didn’t do as I said.” Slade marched forward and put the gun between the Kelhoon’s eyes. “And because so, this is what happens.” The phaser recoiled and the Kelhoon jerked, then shook. His head sank to the floor, his eyes cold as death, a thin trail of smoke billowing from his forehead to the ceiling.

  The Kelhoon warriors moved back, their guns trained on Slade.

  Slade leaned into his radio unit. “Ok
bak, your troops aren’t obeying me. Please get them in line. Out.”

  A message from Okbak was relayed into the tiny, gold radio devices each Kelhoon wore behind their ears. The warriors lowered their weapons and lined up, ready to take as many orders as Slade wanted to dish out.

  Craig put on his mask. He cleared his throat. “Now, get your mask on.”

  Slade looked down at the mask on the floor and shot a photon bolt through it. “Oops, I accidentally made a mess.”

  “God, you’re like a child.” Craig charged forward and the Kelhoon warriors split into two lines, allowing the president a clear path to the control panel. He held his fingers just above the numbers. “Are we ready?”

  He waited for Slade.

  “Ready.” Slade slipped a rifle over his back, hanging it by a strap over his shoulder. “Time to knock some heads, gentlemen. Or, I mean, gentle-hoon.”

  The door opened and the Kelhoon filed out. One stopped and shot at someone. A second later, a woman screamed.

  “It has begun,” said Craig.

  Slade followed the Kelhoon out of the room and into the hallway. A couple of warriors peeled off their formation and chowed down on the newly-dead body.

  Slade never looked back. He was on the war path.

  Craig trailed behind Slade, wearing that dumb clown mask. They marched around a corner. Several more shots rang out. A man squealed, twirling around, a smoky hole through is chest. He fell, dead before hitting the floor. Three Kellhoon fell upon him, their jaws slobbering and teeth glistening. They ate his face clean off the bones before he’d even had time to take on the glassy stare of death. It was meat as fresh as it gets.

  More gunfire, more bodies hitting the floor; this time, someone Slade knew well. He hurried over to the downed politician and shielded the guy from the slathering Kelhoon. “Stop and get into defensive position.” He bent down, examining the man. He bit his lip. “Sorry, Rossy. At least you didn’t see it coming.” He closed the politician’s eyes, then stood, thumbing over his shoulder at Ross. “Less shooting, more marching. We have a mission. Keep your eyes on the prize.”

  The gold radio devices translated his pep talk. Or at least that was Slade’s hope.

  They pushed through a few doors and into a stairwell.

  Slade took his first step on the cement stairs, ready to climb several levels. “Up these steps boys. We’ll be going three floors up.”

  The Kelhoon nodded, pushing Slade out of the way to get to their destination first. The starship’s alarm system went off, sending an earsplitting bell throughout the stairwell.

  “Yep, they have us located,” whined Slade. “Too quick, too early.” He charged up the stairs.

  A phaser shot zipped past Slade. Slade fell against a Kelhoon and spun out of the way, pulling out his weapon, shooting a few random photon blasts up the stairwell.

  Another blast came from above and the lead Kelhoon caught it in his chest, falling backward, toppling down the stairs until it hit another warrior.

  Slade back peddled, moving himself behind a wall of tall, green lizard soldiers.

  Kahkooooj!

  A blast sunk into the landing just above them. The landing cracked, then another blast penetrated the landing, buffeting it upward, the cement crumbling off of its foundation, cracking off the walls and stairs, and dropping it onto the landing below it, blanketing the air in a thick, gray fog.

  “Do not move,” yelled a Space Marine overhead. “The doors you came through are now blocked. You leave through those doors and Marines will blast you mother fuckers to smithereens. And you won’t make it up the stairs so don’t even try. Drop your damn weapons.”

  It was true. There was no way up as the landing was gone, creating a massive gap between the stairs. They were trapped and Slade was essentially blind, not able to see any enemy Marines through the concrete steps up high.

  “Don’t surrender, warriors,” ordered Slade.

  They gave him a nod, waiting for more orders. These Kelhoon had been briefed that only a handful of Secret Space Program Marines were occupying this ship and that after they took care of those Marines and the rest of the troops, then they’d have free sport with the politicians and their families – plenty of meat for their stomachs and their lizard family stomachs back on their base. What Slade didn’t notify them of was that over the last several hours, Space Marines from Fleet Admiral Lon Vernadore’s Star Carrier – Star Haven – were arriving by the hundreds.

  The odds of victory were slim, but Slade was a betting man and he bet heavily on himself. They were going to go down swinging or get out by the skin of their damned teeth.

  Slade pointed at the most heavily armored Kelhoon. “Your name?”

  “Guvka.”

  “Okay, Guvka. It’s too high and too far to throw a bomb up there, so I need you to climb.” He handed Guvka an explosive device.

  Guvka dipped his head, understanding that his life would be given for the benefit of the others. An honor, something thought highly of in their culture.

  He pulled out a dagger and eyed his friends. They all nodded in agreement, then grunted a few words.

  Guvka fit the small explosive devices onto his dagger’s hilt and punched in a timer.

  “How long?” asked Slade.

  The warriors held out three fingers.

  “Thirty seconds?” Slade narrowed his eyes. “Get going.”

  Guvka pressed his blade tip against his chest, away from his heart, and crinkled his nose. He shoved the dagger into his chest, slipping the blade through his muscles and between his ribs, yelping loudly.

  He took a deep breath, his pupils pulsing, hands shaking. He hissed, sinking the dagger in deeper, enough so it could not possibly come loose and fall down the stairs, wiping out his comrades.

  The explosive beeped; twenty seconds remaining.

  He held up his rifle and leaped for the wall, pushing off the moment his feet touched and hurdled the gap between the stairways, disappearing from Slade’s view.

  Shots fired and Space Marines screamed orders. A thump and Slade knew Guvka was dead, then everything went quiet.

  “Your friend is dead, now surrender or the rest of you will follow,” explained a Marine on the next landing up. “We will give you five minutes to think about it.”

  “We don’t need five minutes,” responded Slade. He winked at Craig. “We’ll be up in a minute. We’re disarming now.”

  Slade closed his eyes and plugged his ears, bent at the knees and balled up.

  Bapoo!

  The bomb went off and more chunks of concrete fell from the steps above, covering Craig and Slade in a layer of cement, gravel, and sand. The Kelhoon, on the other hand, were already up and in action and jumping over the gap the same way Guvka did and quickly moved onto the next landing.

  “We can’t do that,” said Craig.

  Slade stood at the edge of the gap, studying the stairs he was on and the length it would take to get to the stairs across the way. “Here we go.” He intertwined his fingers together and crouched, hanging his hands between his legs. “Run and place your foot here. I’ll launch you up to the next step over and up.”

  Craig slowly shook his head. “I don’t think so, Slade.”

  “What are you going to do? Wait for them to burst through the doors?”

  Craig looked behind him, craning his neck to look around the twisted support beam. The doors were still closed. “Shit. I have no choice.” He took several hefty steps toward Slade and went into a quick run. He jumped, landing his foot on Slade’s hands. Slade extended his knees and threw up his hands and arms, catapulted Craig over the gap and onto the steps.

  Craig wiped the sweat off of his brow. “That was easier than I thought.”

  “Don’t ever doubt me, Craig,” replied Slade.

  The doors crashed open and Slade drew his weapon. “You come around the corner and you’re dead,” he warned.

  “We will overrun you, Slade.” It was Fleet Admiral Lon Vernadore, ak
a the Wolf. “We know what you did to Craig’s wife. You won’t survive this today.”

  Craig moved up the steps, his clown mask jostling back and forth at every step.

  “Is Craig with you?” asked Slade. “I’d love to take my first kill shot on the asshole of all presidential assholes.”

  “We wouldn’t put the president in harm’s way, Colonel.”

  That was good. Lon still thought Craig was on his side. Probably thought Craig was in his presidential suite, grieving over his wife.

  Slade pulled the trigger, his phaser recoiling in his hands. The photon bolt slammed against the wall – a warning shot. He holstered his gun and jumped, landing his foot against the wall, and shoved off. He reached for the stairs, his arms and torso hurling against the steps, his head hitting the concrete, nearly blacking him out.

  A gun fired, slicing through his shoe’s heel. He let out a quick breath and swung his leg up and over the step, pulling himself onto the stairs. He grabbed his phaser and twirled around, sending several shots at an empty wall across from him, hitting true, creating a black, coal-like mess that dripped from the wall.

  He ran up the stairs. The Kelhoon were waiting for him. He motioned for them to burst through the next door – Deck 5. “You have free reign. Enjoy your hunting.” He gave them a thumbs-up and winked.

  They burst through the door, shooting every Space Marine in sight.

  Slade and Craig bolted up the steps and onto Deck 4’s landing, hearing the explosions and screams on the deck below.

  Slade holstered his gun and reached for Craig’s mask. “Give it to me.”

  Craig swiped Slade’s hands away from his face. “Bad idea.”

  Slade put his hand on his holstered gun’s grip. “Do it. We don’t have much time. They won’t shoot you. They think you’re on their team. They’ll shoot me on sight and I’m not risking that. Give me your mask.”

  Craig sighed, pulling off his mask and handing it to Slade. “You better be right. That was my insurance policy. My way off this ship, incognito.”