by G J Ogden
“Penny for your thoughts?” said Banks, stepping up to Sterling’s side.
Sterling reflected for a moment then glanced across to his first officer. “I think we’re going to do this, Mercedes,” he said, feeling electricity run down his spine. Then he glanced again at the alien, which recoiled from Sterling as he did so. “I think it’s payback time.”
Chapter 20
A taste of its own medicine
Sterling glanced down at the computer on his left arm for the third time that minute, following a group of markers that were steadily moving through the pressurized sections of the alien ship. Each marker represented an individual Sa’Nerran warrior that was heading their way. By his current count, ten aliens were already advancing on their location, outnumbering them by more than two to one. The longer they remained on the alien cruiser, the more warriors would come, and Sterling wasn’t about to go down on the bridge of any ship, let alone an enemy one. The growing number of enemy forces wasn’t Sterling’s only concern, though. Their route back to the combat shuttle had already been cut off. Escape now required more innovative – and desperate – tactics.
Sterling switched to the remote piloting screen for their combat shuttle and recalled it to his current location. Their situation was growing more precarious by the second, but Sterling was determined to see the mission through to the end. They had to recover the data or all was lost, and the closer they came to failure, the more Sterling realized he’d rather die than return to Fleet space in disgrace with his tail between his legs.
Lowering his wrist again, Sterling glanced across to Lieutenant Razor, who was still working frantically to crack the Sa’Nerran command computer and retrieve the data that could lead them to James Colicos. However, it was becoming clear that the process was going to take too long. A more drastic solution was needed, but it was a contingency that they’d planned for.
“We’re out of time, Lieutenant,” Sterling said, stepping over to his engineer. “Can you crack this computer or not?”
Razor downed tools then shook her head. “Not in the time we have available, sir,” she replied. “It will probably take me another thirty minutes to break through.” Razor then rummaged inside her satchel and pulled out the neural translation matrix that Commander Graves had extracted from the colonist on Far Deep Nine. Sterling was pleased to see that there were no longer chunks of human brain attached to it. “I think we have to ‘plan B’ this, Captain,” Razor went on, holding up the device. “I volunteer to try.”
Sterling took the device from his engineer and examined it. Their plan B was highly theoretical, but Commander Graves and Lieutenant Razor both believed it could work. The principal was simple – adapt the neural interface so that it latched onto a Sa’Nerran rather than human brain, then reverse the flow of information. As the precursor to the neural control weapon, Graves believed the device could be used to coerce the Sa’Nerran brain into receiving instructions from another neural interface - a human interface. However, considering that the device had driven the colonist on Far Deep Nine mad, using it was not without risk. Consequently, Razor had explained to Sterling that she’d devised a “firewall” in order to prevent her from being turned or simply driven mad.
“Are you sure this thing isn’t going to fry you brain, Lieutenant?” asked Sterling, handing the device back to Razor.
“No, sir, I’m not sure,” the engineer replied, flatly. “But I don’t see that we have a choice.”
Sterling’s computer on his forearm bleeped and he checked the update, noting that the number of Sa’Nerran warriors heading to the bridge had risen to fourteen. He cursed then met his engineer’s eyes again.
“Do it, Lieutenant,” Sterling said with conviction. He pointed to their Sa’Nerran prisoner. “If we can get that thing to unlock the computer for us, we can be out of here before this place becomes overrun with warriors.”
“Aye, Captain,” Razor answered. She then took a step toward the Sa’Nerran commander, which was now bound and under guard by Lieutenant Shade. The alien hissed at Razor as she approached and bore its jagged teeth. Razor hesitated, as if the thing were an angry rattlesnake.
“Make our guest more compliant, Commander,” Sterling ordered.
“My pleasure, Captain,” the Invictus’ first officer replied, clearly relishing the opportunity to get hands-on with their prisoner.
Banks cracked her knuckles and paced over to the alien, showing none of the timidity that Razor had displayed. The warrior hissed again as Banks grabbed the alien commander and hauled it up. Unable to strike out with its leathery hands the warrior sunk its teeth into her armor. Banks grimaced and Sterling saw blood leak out from the puncture wounds, but the alien’s desperate attack had only seemed to piss his first officer off. Grabbing the alien around the neck Banks pulled the warrior clear of her armor then held it tightly against the command computer. The alien struggled and hissed, but it was no match for the super-human strength of Commander Mercedes Banks.
“Make it quick,” said Sterling, again anxiously peering down at his computer. The markers on the screen were still growing in number and getting closer.
Razor pulled the spidery network of wires over the alien’s head then pressed the interface to the warrior’s leathery temple. The neural interface powered up and dug itself into the side of the alien’s head, like a python sinking its fangs into its prey. The alien hissed wildly and fought to free itself from Banks, but she was too strong. The warrior remained helpless as the device buried its tendrils deeper into the alien’s brain.
Sterling watched the process with interest. Normally, neural interfaces were installed during infanthood and grew with their host, no different to any other sensory organ. Beyond a certain age, though, it became dangerous to integrate the technology. The process was simply too invasive; too painful. To an adult being, such as the Sa’Nerran commander, it was nothing short of torture. However, Sterling felt no sympathy for the alien. It was merely a taste of its own bitter medicine. Lieutenant Razor then tapped her own neural interface and began working at a portable computer that she’d removed from her backpack.
“We’re connected,” Razor said, her fingers flashing across the screen of the console. “Firewalls established. There is now only a direct link between me and the alien.”
Suddenly, Razor’s muscles tensed up as if she’d just jabbed a fork into an electrical outlet. The alien’s hisses became more labored and raucous. Its yellow eyes bulged and its own muscles spasmed wildly, causing Banks to tighten her hold even further.
“Lieutenant?” Sterling called out, kneeling at his engineer’s side. “Lieutenant!” he called out again, but still Razor was unable to respond. He cursed and grabbed the neural device on the side of the alien’s head, preparing it to tear it free. Then he felt a hand land on his shoulder and grip him hard. Sterling winced and instinctively let go of the neural interface to pull the hand away. He saw that Razor was peering into his eyes, imploringly.
“Wait, I’m okay…” Razor said, struggling to force the words out through her clenched teeth. “It’s… fighting me…” she continued.
The engineer pressed her eyes shut as sweat began to bead on her lustrous skin. Razor continued to fight the creature and Sterling could see that the alien’s resistance was beginning to fade. The portable console that his engineer had been working on then chimed an alert. Sterling checked it and saw that the first of five firewalls she’d set up to protect herself and the others from the corrupting effect of Colicos’ experimental device had already failed.
“You have five minutes, Lieutenant, then I’m pulling the plug. Literally,” Sterling called out. He couldn’t be sure that Razor had heard him, but whether she had or not no longer mattered. They had to get off the cruiser before the Sa’Nerran reinforcements arrived.
A low rumble through the deck plating caused Sterling to look toward the viewscreen. The Invictus’ combat shuttle had just maneuvered past the windows of the alien bridge. Sterling sw
itched back to the remote piloting interface on his computer and commanded the vessel to latch onto one of the porthole windows and begin cutting through. However, the bridge of the Sa’Nerran cruiser was thick and heavily armored. The process would take time – time they were rapidly running short of. He heard the combat shuttle thump against the porthole and its cutting beams activated. The countdown had begun, but he knew they weren’t going to escape without a fight.
“We need to hold off the reinforcement for as long as we can,” he called over to Lieutenant Shade. “It’ll be down to you and me.”
His weapons officer nodded and moved over to the door, holding one of the powerful Homewrecker heavy plasma rifles in her hands. Unlike his freakishly-strong first officer, Lieutenant Shade had to use all her strength to wield the mighty weapon. Collecting one of the plasma hand-cannons from a dead commando, Sterling moved up beside Shade on the opposite side of the door. The sound of heavy boots was already filtering along the corridor, signaling that the first wave of warriors was close. Sterling glanced back to Razor, expecting to still see her frozen in pain and concentration, but instead the engineer was on her feet and appeared calm. He noticed that Banks had released her grip on the alien commander. Incredibly, the warrior walked over to one of the computer terminals, seemingly of its own free will, and began to operate it. The puppet master was now in control.
Sterling’s computer chimed an alert and he saw that the second of five firewalls had failed. A plasma blast slammed into the wall inches from his head and he pulled back into cover, cursing himself for dropping his guard. Shade stepped out into the open and returned fire with the Homewrecker, doing more damage to the ship than she did to the advancing horde. She pulled back into cover and two alien warriors rushed out, charging toward Sterling armed only with semi-circular blades. Sterling stepped out and allowed them to advance. The hand-cannons had limited range, but in close quarters they were even more devastating than the heavy plasma rifles. The rasping hiss of the warriors grew to a roar then Sterling unleashed with the hand-cannon, blasting the first warrior back along the corridor as if it had been hit by a truck. The second continued its attack unfazed by the fate of its companion. Sterling gritted his teeth then fired again, blasting the head and upper torso of the alien into charred chunks of flesh and bone. The smell of burning alien meat assaulted him, as vile and as nauseating as ever.
Sterling’s computer then chimed again and he knew that the third firewall had fallen. He was about to call out to Banks for an update before four more warriors rushed out. They were only partially decked out in armor and only two had plasma weapons. Sterling assumed they had just thawed out and had merely grabbed whatever weapons and armor came quickly to hand.
Lieutenant Shade opened fire, obliterating one of the warriors with her first volley, then a plasma blast struck her chest and she fell back. Sterling returned fire with the hand cannon, temporarily halting the aliens' advance then glanced down at Shade. Smoke was rising from her armor and she was clearly in pain, but his weapons officer fought through it and pushed herself up. Sterling continued to fire, but the aliens were too far away from the hand-cannon to be fully effective. He felt a thump to his side followed by a burning sensation of pain. Returning into cover, he saw that his armor had soaked up the bulk of the energy. He’d been lucky – but fortune favored the brave, he told himself. Shade then fired again, killing the second of the two-armed aliens before her strength failed and she was forced to release her hold on the heavy weapon. Sterling’s computer chimed again and he cursed. The fourth firewall was down. It was do or die time, Sterling told himself, but there wasn’t a chance in hell he was the one doing the dying.
Stepping out to meet the two advancing warriors, Sterling fired at the closest and blasted the alien’s leg off at the hip. A flash of plasma raced past his face, temporarily blinding him, but he pressed on and squeezed the trigger again. This time the weapon jammed. Cursing, he had just enough time to raise the cannon to block a strike from the warrior’s serrated blade. The clang and scrape of metal on metal felt like someone raking fingernails across a blackboard. Sterling was then kicked to the chest and sent down, but he rolled back and was on his feet before the alien could make a killing blow. Shade grabbed the warrior’s ankle as it raced past, still in pursuit of Sterling, toppling the alien to the deck. Seizing his chance, Sterling hammered the butt of the plasma cannon down onto the back of the alien’s head, striking the Sa’Nerran's weak spot with deadly precision.
“We’re in!” Banks shouted over to Sterling. “The data is downloading now.”
Sterling checked his computer. The final firewall was holding, but he knew it could fall at any moment. Then the thump of boots and the hiss of alien cries again filtered along the corridor from outside.
“Hold them off while I ready the shuttle,” Sterling called back to his first officer. He then rushed over to the porthole window where the shuttle was still cutting through. The seal was holding, but it was as precarious as Razor’s firewall.
Banks grabbed another plasma hand-cannon then ran over to Shade and helped her up. There were no concerned words. No asking, “are you okay?” Banks and Sterling both knew that Shade would fight on even if she was dying. Whether she was ‘okay’ or not was immaterial. Shade took the hand-cannon while Banks picked up the Homewrecker, carrying it with the same inhuman ease as she had done earlier. Both unloaded their weapons along the corridor, creating such a torrent of plasma fire that nothing living could possibly hope to advance through it.
The cutting laser then finished and the porthole fell onto the deck of the alien bridge with a resounding crash. Sterling ran over to Razor and grabbed her shoulder, turning her to face him. Her skin was soaked through with sweat and blood vessels bulged in her neck and around her temples. Sterling turned her head to inspect the engineer’s own neural interface. The skin around it was red and inflamed, but it showed no evidence of the spidery corruption that the first-generation neural control weapons caused.
“Lieutenant, do we have the data?” Sterling asked, but Razor was on the verge of collapse and unable to answer. Releasing his hold on her, Sterling turned to the portable console his engineer had been working on. They had about seventy percent of the alien ship’s database. Then he checked the computer on his wrist and saw that the final firewall was about to collapse. They were out of time.
“Get back to the shuttle, now!” Sterling called out, directing the order at Banks and Shade, who were still unleashing hell on the Sa’Nerran reinforcements.
Sterling then turned to face the alien commander. It was standing like a statue, its yellow eyes wide and unblinking. Blood was leaking out from the modified neural translation matrix that had attached itself to the alien’s brain and Sterling could see corruption spreading like wildfire. Grabbing the alien behind the back of the neck, Sterling took hold of the neural interface and dug his fingers into the alien’s flesh. Then with all his might he tore the device out of the warrior’s head, like pulling giblets from the neck of a turkey. Blood gushed from the wound, coating Sterling's hands and face in the hot, crimson liquid. The alien hissed wildly, its cries horrific and haunting, like an evil spirit being exorcised. The alien then collapsed to the deck, dead. Razor collapsed moments later, but Sterling caught her and threw her arm over his shoulder. He glanced at the computer on his wrist. The final firewall had fallen, but he had no idea whether it had failed before or after he’d torn the device from alien’s brain. Banks and Shade then rushed past, still firing through the door to hold off the alien warriors.
“Go!” Banks called before unloading another fierce volley from the Homewrecker, obliterating two more warriors in an eruption of blood and guts, like bursting balloons full of water.
Sterling grabbed Razor’s portable console, threw it into the backpack then grabbed the bag with his free hand. Dragging the barely-conscious engineer onward, Sterling shoved her through the hatch and inside the combat shuttle before hauling himself inside after
her. Banks and Shade followed and the hatch sealed. Leaving Razor on the deck of the shuttle, Sterling jumped into the pilot’s seat and blasted away from the alien cruiser, tearing a hole in the bridge as he did so. Seconds later, the remaining alien reinforcements were blown into space through the rupture. Incredibly, the dying warriors still tried to fire at the shuttle as it departed, despite their bodies swelling and asphyxiation setting in. Sterling almost admired their tenacity, but at the same time he enjoyed watching them suffer. The alien race had shown humanity no mercy and they would get none from him.
The Shuttle then cleared the cruiser and Sterling thumped the console and cried out, overcome by the euphoria of their victory and narrow escape. Banks whooped and cursed the alien warriors that had been condemned to a painful death in space. She then grabbed Shade and pulled her into an embrace, though the weapons officer’s response was as austere as always. However, their elation was short-lived. The shuttle’s scanners chimed an alert and Sterling saw that the three Sa’Nerran Destroyers were almost on top of them. Against all odds, they’d won the first round, but the fight was not over yet.
Chapter 21
A duel in Sa’Nerran space
Sterling steered the combat shuttle toward the Invictus and increased power to the engines. He’d hoped to make it inside the protective cocoon of his ship before the alien vessels arrived, but it soon became clear that wasn’t going to happen. An alarm rang out and Sterling threw the shuttle hard to port, narrowly avoiding a stream of plasma blasts that flashed past the cockpit then vanished into space.
“We’ve got Wasps…” Sterling called out, activating the shuttle’s combat mode. “The destroyers must have launched them in advance.”
“How many?” asked Commander Banks, sliding into the second seat of the shuttle. She was holding the backpack full of equipment that Razor had used to download data from the Sa’Nerran cruiser.