by Greg Dragon
“I do, Captain Sho. I will call your comms as soon as everything has been taken care of,” she said.
Retzo stepped into the compartment and paused as he looked around. To think that just an hour ago, my biggest concern was finding Cilas, he thought. Now, as usual, the lizards strike when we’re at our weakest, and the officer in charge is nowhere to be found. “This isn’t coincidence,” he whispered. “Something really stinks.” He sat at the table, touched his comms, and waited for Cyulan’s voice.
“Hello again, Miss Ore,” he said as soon as she answered. “I need you to patch me through to Commander Jit Nam of the Soulspur.” He was leaning into the table, feeling weak, and it was only then that he understood why. He hadn’t eaten since he had started his research and now the hunger was taking its toll. “After you make the call, Cyulan, could you please tell the chef to send up some lunch? Anything will do, but I will take a lot of coffee, as well.”
“Aye aye, Captain, I will get that ordered. If it’s okay with you I can now connect you with Commander Lam,” she said.
“Excellent, Miss Ore. Please put him through,” he said. He then sat back and closed his eyes, preparing himself for more bad news.
“Captain,” Jit said. “It is good to hear from you. We eagerly await your orders.”
“Inginus is out, Jit, so we’ll be coming ourselves. Stay out of contact with the enemy until you hear from us. I will be talking to the council about enlisting another battleship, and then we’ll be coming in to liberate the planet. What’s the situation there, have you heard anything more?”
“No sir, not since we last spoke, but the Meluvians have reported contact. The lizards are on the planet, Captain, and they have managed to set up a beachhead.”
“They have done what? How long have they been there, Jit? How is it that they’ve made so much progress in so short a time?” Retzo said.
“That’s the thing, Captain. All of this happened just like that. We were here, they appeared, and we’re running to save our hides. My contact on Meluvia told me that the Virulian spies went dark. There were lizards on the surface, waiting for this to happen. I cannot explain how the Meluvians stayed blind to lizards being on their planet, sir, but when the dropships broke the atmosphere, they were ready to spring their trap.”
Retzo felt a headache coming on. This wasn’t the Alliance that he knew. They had been ahead of the game for well over a decade, and things had been hopeful for once in this war. Prior to the disappearance of his Nighthawks, he had successfully removed a number of key Geralos. The Alliance was looking at Geral—in terms of taking the fight to their planet—thinking that with one key strike, they could bring an end to it all.
Now it seemed they had been asleep, and the lizards had put enough things in play to cause this chain of events. His Nighthawks were gone, and his infiltrators spread out to separate systems. He wondered if the other Alliance warships were going through the same scrambling that they were going through now.
“Stay strong, Commander Jit, and look out for my signal,” he said. “When I come, I come to conquer, and I need men like you by my side.”
“I’ll be here, Captain. If there’s anything, please don’t hesitate,” he said.
“You’re a good man, Jit, and your Marines are lucky to have you. Just sit tight and stay alert until I tell you when to come in.”
When he got off the call, he saw a message from Genevieve, stating that the Alliance Council was ready to speak to him. Retzo got up from his chair and leaned over to swap the interfaces. The hologram display of the Nighthawks vanished, and in its stead hovered the Alliance symbol.
With just one touch he would be in front of the twelve most important beings in the Anstractor Universe. They would ask questions that he couldn’t answer, and force him to answer for Meluvia. The big blue planet was under his jurisdiction, and this Geralos invasion would be deemed inexcusable.
Due to this, Retzo hesitated. Am I really ready to talk? The way he felt at this point, he wouldn’t be able to stay respectful. A chime echoed throughout the compartment, pulling him out of his thoughts, and it was only after the fifth time that he realized it was the door. He touched an area of his bracelet which was connected to the ship, leaned into his comms, and said, “Come in, the door is open.”
A young cadet in dress blues wheeled a cart of food inside, and to Retzo it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. The scolding would have to wait, as well as the strategy needed for the Geralos. With food inside his stomach—and a momentary break—he would be ready for the Alliance.
“Bring it in, Cadet,” he said. “You can set the food up here.”
“Immediately sir,” the young man said, and Retzo watched him intently as he went. He laid out the food and a heated container full of Vestalian coffee. He then set a place for the captain as if he was the most important person in the universe.
The entire time he worked, he averted his gaze, but Retzo watched him closely with interest. “How did you come by this station?” he said when the young man was finally finished.
“Yes sir. Sure. I made high marks on my physical examination,” he said. “Part of my reward is that I get to work for the officers, sir. There was an emergency, so they asked me to serve you your lunch. I hope that it’s okay, sir.”
“It is, young man. What is your name?” Retzo said as he sat in front of the food and spooned some meat into a bowl.
“My name is Markus Hem, sir. My father is Master Chief, Cage Hem,” he said. Retzo felt his heart sink when he recognized the name.
“You must miss your father,” Retzo said, feeling lower than he’d felt in days.
“I do, sir, but he has an important job,” he said. “I’d like to have a similar job someday.”
“There’s a bright future ahead of you, Markus. You’re a credit to our cadets,” Cilas said. “Keep it up. You did an excellent job here. I will not forget to thank your commander when I see him later today.”
21
By the time Cilas, Helga, and Ina were at the door to the bridge, the ship had been on full alert that there were intruders on board. Several men and women had been sent to shut them down, but they hadn’t realized the caliber of enemy they were up against.
Cilas, who had been through just about every disaster that could be thrown against an ESO, stacked bodies up in the passageway as they came. The pirates were just not skilled enough to take on the veteran, or his understudy, Helga Ate. So eventually they retreated to the bridge and barricaded themselves inside.
Now it was a war of attrition as Cilas, Helga, Ina, and several former slaves stood outside the bridge’s door. The captain—which Cilas assumed he was due to his loud threats—was on the intercom shouting. He repeatedly asked who they were, demanding they stand down and telling them what he was capable of.
“They will have either killed the captives servicing the bridge or kept them as hostages in hopes of negotiation,” Cilas said. “Anyone who conducts the business of selling flesh is looking out for themselves and themselves alone. This means they will do whatever they can to survive. So we must be willing to take advantage of that.”
“Why haven’t they sealed the doors and dropped the atmosphere for the majority of the ship?” Helga said, looking at Ina. “It’s what I would do if I was trapped on a bridge. Seal everything off, remove the gravity, and make the atmosphere difficult for anyone to move around.”
“I don’t know,” Ina said. “Maybe there’s precious cargo onboard that requires the atmosphere? I’m also not sure if they can lock the ship down from the bridge. The last situation we had on board, it was the engineers that isolated the threat, and you’ve cleared that compartment and killed them all. I don’t think they can do much inside there.”
“Atmosphere and sealed doors would not stop the Geralos,” Cilas said. “We’ve been good about taking out the surveillance on this ship, so there is a good chance they don’t know who we are. Tell you what, Reysor, take Ate to engineering and se
e if you can find a way to open this door. If not, there’s bound to be a way to do some proper damage.”
“What are you going to do, Lieutenant?” Helga said.
“I’m going to speak to their fool of a captain,” Cilas said. “All of this noise over the intercom is desperation, so I’ll give him an audience while you do your thing. When you find something useful, let me know, and then we can flush him out.”
“Engineering is right down here,” Ina said, before leading her down the passageway to one of the many compartments that had been cleared.
“We’re going to need the men now,” Helga said. “You can tell them to come up and hold the door.”
Ina complied, leaving her side, though Cilas wanted to object. Maybe we can use them, he thought, remembering that they were former Alliance spacers. Throughout the ordeal of getting there, he had managed to liberate more people like Ina. He assigned them to her, with only one instruction: keep them out of our way as we do our thing.
The Nighthawks had done what they could to make sure that each deck was clear. But there was no way to search every nook and cranny, so Ina suggested they leave the former captives to do it. They were to lock down the crew deck and prepare for anything. This included sealing all the doors and clearing every livable compartment.
Once this had been done, they were to await instruction and help the Nighthawks if it was needed. Cilas and company left them to handle these things while they rushed off to clear the bridge deck. But the captain and crew had locked themselves inside, and the door to the bridge could not be breached.
As Helga and Ina went about their business, Cilas searched for a way to communicate with the captain. He found it quickly—a phone installed on the bulkhead near the captain’s cabin. He lifted the receiver and touched the icon for the bridge, then waited to see if he would answer.
“Who are you?” came the harsh voice that he recognized from the intercom.
“A friend of Amatu Vlax,” said Cilas sarcastically, and he smiled when his response was met with a long bout of silence. There had to be some confusion at the mention of Amatu’s name, and the man was probably wondering if he had been betrayed.
“You lie,” he said finally, his voice taking on a new level of irritability.
“We set the beacon, you came for it, and now I must ask you to surrender your ship, Captain,” Cilas said. “Open the door and let my team in, and we will spare your life. Keep us out, stalling the way you are, and we will kill your engines and leave you here for the lizards or the Alliance infiltrator. It’s your choice.”
“You are in no position to make threats, worm. I will deal with you just like I dealt with the traitor that allowed you on this ship. Amatu is not your friend, and you have no team. I’m guessing that you are either an assassin or one of those Alliance jumpers. Either way you will not gain access to my bridge. We will flush you out and then you will suffer for the loss of life that you have caused.”
Cilas’s comms came on, so he hung up the phone. “We found a computer with some limited options,” Helga said. “Apparently the Louines built fail safes for situations just like this. We can cripple the ship by detaching the fuel supply, or dropping the shields—which should cause him to panic. Another option would be killing the lights, though I’m sure the bridge has an auxiliary back-up.”
“There’s no controls to affect the bridge door then?” Cilas said.
“No, sir, just the ship as a whole,” Helga said.
“Blind them with their surveillance system. He all but indicated that he’s able to see me on this deck. Disable the engines and their FTL. I don’t want them to have the ability to run. Oh, and shunt all power to the external shields. Burn up as much resources as you can, force this thing into a state of paralysis. Once you do that, get out here and be prepared to fight. Once he knows we have him, he’ll send out his men, and we will need to drop them before he can escape.”
“What do you mean, escape?” Helga said.
“It’s the bridge of a deck ship, Ate … they are bound to have escape pods. Look to see if you can disable those too,” Cilas said.
“Thype! You’re right. Copy that, I’m on it,” she said, before clicking off the comms.
Cilas reached over and grabbed the phone, then dialed the captain again. “You have five minutes,” he said once the man answered, but he didn’t bother to wait for a reply. He hung it up and walked back to the locked door leading to the bridge.
Out of habit, he checked his weapon’s heat gauge and saw that it was at the lowest point. With the amount of shooting he had done, this meant that he had been waiting a really long time. The captain was back on the intercom again. He was so angry that his words were incoherent. By now, their surveillance would have gone dark, and he could no longer see where Cilas was waiting.
Cilas touched his wristband and connected to the comms that they’d taken off a pirate and given to Ina Reysor. “How’s our team holding up on the crew deck, Ina?” he said, trying to remain cryptic in case the man on the bridge was listening.
“Scared, excited, wanting to help,” she said. “But mostly they are scared. We have had rescue attempts before.”
“We always finish our missions, Ina. They don’t have anything to worry about,” Cilas said. He touched his wristband again. “Ate, what’s your status?”
“I’m about to shunt the shields, sir. It took longer than I thought. This engine room is unlike any I’ve seen. I had to call Brise for help, since I was out of my league.” He heard her laugh. “It was a bit of a challenge, but I think that we can finally get it done. Sorry… rambling… I’m moving the slide. Any minute now and the power will switch,” she said.
Cilas adjusted the grip on his pistol and waited, listening for a change. It was the grumbling threats over the intercom that took on a new life, and he could understand some of his words. He made out, “what are you doing?” and something about compromise, but there was no way Cilas Mec was going back to that phone.
Any minute now he expected the door to open, followed by an outpouring of angry, armed pirates. They wouldn’t be open for conversation, so he had to be ready to meet them. A noise from behind him forced him to dip low and spin with the pistol raised, ready for action.
It was Helga and Ina, followed by a man and a woman they had freed. These former spacers weren’t armed with weapons, but their eyes were all fury.
Cilas turned back to the door and raised his free hand, signing to Helga for them to wait and cover him at a distance. There was a clang, the door was moving, and his heart began to pound. He tried to relax his muscles as he waited, not knowing what to expect.
Then something inside of him told him to retreat, to get away from the door as fast as he could. Cilas listened and backed away, keeping his pistol raised as he did. The next few seconds were a blur, and he would never be able to remember it in its entirety. There was white light, and the ship shook violently, throwing him into the air where he struck the overhang.
Consciousness waned, but there was white smoke, and dark figures barely visible within it. For a second he thought that he was in the crater on Dyn again, but there was no room to run in this passageway, and in his ears was a muted ringing sound.
Getting his bearings, Cilas recognized that the pistol was still in his right hand. He rolled up to a knee and began firing, realizing now that there were shots coming from behind him.
Oh yeah, that’s Helga, he remembered … his head feeling heavy. It was a bomb. They blew off their own door, he thought. Of course they did. When they had surveillance, they saw me lingering outside.
Helga and the rest cleared the passageway as the smoke dissipated, leaving several corpses riddled with holes on top of the charred black door. In front of Cilas stood the open portal leading to the bridge he aimed to take. But what was waiting for him? A high powered rifle, or another bomb rigged to some sort of tripwire?
If this was an Alliance or Geralos ship, all he needed was a superior force. Firepo
wer and strategy would gain the bridge, and the people in charge would surrender. This wasn’t dishonorable, and both sides felt this way. Standing down preserved the lives of the men and women who were your responsibility. The captain would negotiate and step aside, but these were pirates who knew no honor.
Helga came forward and hunched down next to him. “Are you alright, Lieutenant?” she said, and he nodded quickly. “What are you thinking is in there? Another booby trap?” she whispered.
“Not sure, but be ready for anything,” he said. “We cannot afford to hesitate on this one. They rigged that door and put everyone on that bridge in danger, not to mention the poor fools who ran out, looking to overrun us. The time for mercy has passed, Ate. Inside is a very desperate man who will be looking to take us out by any means necessary.”
“Desperate man? More like a cornered rat,” Helga mumbled, and turned back to Ina to say something in Meluvian. She then got up, touched Cilas on his shoulder, and crept toward the smoking doorway while keeping her shoulder tight against the bulkhead.
She knows I’m injured, Cilas thought, annoyed at her for not staying back. I need to take point. She’s going to get herself killed. He got up and followed her, struggling against the pain, his arms holding the pistol above her left shoulder.
When Helga was a meter from the door, he slid past her to take point, hesitating now that he was about to roll the dice. Glancing down at the pirates who had rushed out and died, he noticed that the door they lay upon was not as thick as he’d thought.
Squatting down, he grabbed a corner and pulled it out from under the bodies. This took some effort, since one of the men decided to come with it, but Cilas was stubborn and managed to move it several meters. He could hear shouting coming from inside the smoky bridge but it was hard to tell how many were in there.