Good, he thought. At least there is that.
On the freighter Blake and Shira swiftly moved down the passageway,
covering each opening as they came to it,
ensuring that it was empty,
and moving on.
No more crew were seen, and there was no sign of any space soldiers either.
That made Blake more nervous than anything else. If they were here,
why had they not engaged?
What were they waiting on?
or more importantly, what were their orders?
Based on what Davi had said,
they were here for something on the ship and not for them.
Even knowing that it was hard not to be a bit paranoid.
Sometimes you have the worst luck Blake thought to himself.
As he approached the bulkhead entrance,
he slowed and glanced at the map floating in his vision.
He knew this was the last door to get through on their way to the cargo bay.
He felt Shira’s left-hand touch his right shoulder, making him aware of her presence there.
He placed another small, black, disk against the door.
As it slipped open, Blake’s eyes widened.
“Oh shit!” he exclaimed.
CHAPTER
TWENTY
TWENTY
What’s in the Box
Davi rubbed his eyes and tried to focus.
He had gone through pages of data and still hadn’t found what he was looking for.
Something didn’t make sense.
He watched as systems on the freighter went from yellow to green,
pouring more data onto his screen.
He focused, trying to glean why a cargo freighter warranted a marine detachment.
Blake and Shira were counting on him for Intel! They were flying blind, and he had nothing.
Davi slammed his fist on the console as a wave of frustration overwhelmed him.
“Dammit, what am I missing?” he said,
his voice as tense as his muscles.
“Morgan, you have to give me something. Where are the Marines? Our team is running around an alien ship, and sooner or later, their luck is going to run out,” Davi said.
His ordinarily happy face was replaced with one of utter panic.
“I have scanned the ship repeatedly and mined the information coming in,” Morgan replied.
“So far, nothing is indicating why they are there or more importantly, where they are.”
Davi went back to reading the screens of information that scrolled by as it dumped in from the freighter’s data core.
Suddenly, something caught his eye.
He stopped the scroll and re-read the section.
Then, he moved the page up and read something that had come across earlier.
His eyes unfocused as he tried to put the pieces together.
A second later, Davi shot out of his chair.
“Morgan, what if they were guarding something? What would be a standard procedure for a marine detachment whose objective is guarding precious cargo?” he asked, practically yelling.
Morgan processed the question and sensing that her friend was upset and excited at the same time gently said,
“Davi, I don’t understand the question.
This all depends on what they are guarding, I need more information” She replied, her tone worried for her companions anxious state.
Davi slapped the coffee mug he had been drinking from off the console.
It flew across the room and hit the pilot’s chair, sending brown liquid all over it.
“DAMMIT, listen!” he said,
scrolling the page again.
“On their last stop, they picked up a large container.
This container was marked
‘priority red-one’ as well as ‘eyes only top secret.’
It was at that moment the orders were changed to oral delivery.
The crew wasn’t expecting to take anything on;
this stop was a fuel and rest stop only,
according to the captain’s log,” he said.
“Why is this relevant?” Morgan queried,
running through the log again.
Davi shook his head in frustration.
“Alone, it isn’t. In fact, it still isn’t unless you read the small comment from the quartermaster bitching about having to get bunks for the marines,
also, on their last stop.
You can put it together from there.” He yelled.
It took a moment, but Morgan got it.
“The Marines came on at the same stop as the package that altered the ship’s orders.” She said, realization dawning.
Jumping up and down, Davi yelled,
“She shoots, she scores!
Now, what is the Standard Operating Procedure for a contingent of Marines guarding a precious package during a boarding attempt?” he asked , his tone calming.
Morgan did one of her iconic silences as she processed the question.
“Standard operating procedure would be that the Marines set up a protective area around the object to guard it.
The ship and crew are secondary to the mission. Should someone break the protective area, they would engage with extreme prejudice. If Shira and Blake enter that protective zone, they will come face to face with the entire contingent of marines.
This process was developed as a safety measure so that a detachment could not be led away as a distraction as long as the ship is not in danger, thus putting their mission at risk. They will stay where they are and follow their orders to the letter.”
The AI recited
Davi thought about that for a moment.
That took a hell of a lot of discipline.
Maybe it was possible to complete the mission without even crossing paths with these guys,
but he knew in his heart they were not that lucky.
Back on the freighter
Blake was confused for a second.
Standing, not four feet in front of him,
was a creature covered head to toe in armor,
Its bulk filled the small hallway,
almost to the point it where it would have had to turn sideways to move.
“What the fuck?” Blake said just before the thing raised its right gauntlet and a stream of energy struck him in the chest,
knocking him back.
Even before he slammed against the corridor wall, his carbine was up and firing.
He could hear the report of Shira’s as plasma peppered the things armor.
The creature in armor bucked and stumbled back. Blake quickly steadied himself and shot forward in a run.
He drove his metal fist into the chest of the beast and pierced its armor.
Bright green blood shot out as his fist pushed through the plate and into soft skin and hard bone. Blake’s arm sunk elbow-deep into the armored creature,
coating everything in green, viscous fluid.
He turned halfway and yelled,
“Shira, load the explosive rounds. I think we found the marines. Morgan, this thing is about 7 feet tall and covered in some kind of armor and really pissed.
Not sure what it looks like under it,
but I’m sure you are getting it through the camera feed. Any information would be helpful.”
Morgan’s response was quick and urgent,
and there was an edge to her otherwise calm voice.
“Blake, these aren’t just marines,
these are what you would call special forces.
The race is called Creaton.
They are the Empire’s enforcers,
and they are very nasty beings.
They will show you no mercy and now that you have drawn blood,
the others will have caught the scent and are probably on the way.
Do not stop!
Get to the cargo bay!
According to our sensors, they are guarding the route to the bay
,
but the bay itself is clear.
There is only one way in and one way out,
so it will allow you the most straightforward point of protection.” Morgan finished, her tone urgent
Blake pulled his arm out from the creature’s gut, shaking off its blood.
He quickly grabbed the standard load from his carbine and switched it with the explosive rounds that Davi had given them.
“Shira, move,” he said with the purpose of a soldier on a mission,
Shira followed without hesitation.
They were about 20 feet from the cargo hold when three more of the creatures rounded the corner,
all carrying impressively large rifles.
Before his own actions even registered Blake was firing on them,
watching as holes blew open their armor where he hit.
The instant he began shooting,
something passed over his shoulder,
and he had just enough time to throw himself against a wall before Shira’s plasma grenade went off.
When Blake looked again, he saw the carnage in the hall.
The walls and floor were scorched,
but they seemed to be intact and otherwise unharmed.
However, the Creatons were now strewn in pieces about the hallway.
“MOVE!” Blake yelled,
pushing forward, toward the cargo bay.
With Shira hot on his heels,
they approached an opening to their left just as another Creaton stepped from it.
Before it could react,
Shira put an explosive round through its head.
It stood frozen for a moment before it folded over onto itself and crumpled to the floor.
The two stepped over it and took the final steps into the cargo bay.
“Good shot,” Blake called over his shoulder. “Thanks,” Shira replied.
“Definitely not liking the situation though.”
Blake dropped the magazine from his rifle and inserted a fresh one.
“You know,
why couldn't we come upon an angry army of bunnies or puppies?
No, it has to be a bunch of Robocop-looking motherfuckers.”
Blake said looking back at the large armored creatures strewn on the floor.
Shira replaced her own magazine with a fresh one. “Look at the bright side, boss. At least we get to use the cool toys.” Shira answered,
She leveled her rifle and readied herself for the next onslaught.
On the Nismel Davi watched the entire engagement via helm cam as it happened.
He was impressed by the response and accuracy of the team.
He had seen them training,
but apparently, nothing replaced the heat of combat.
They were so fast!
He wondered how long the human body could sustain the abuse this was doing to their bodies.
He pushed the thought down.
He had to help his team.
He quickly pulled up the schematic for the freighter and scanned the map of the area,
looking for possible egress points.
He filled Blake and Shira in on what he and Morgan had found out.
And his heart sank.
There was no other way in or out of that bay,
aside from jumping out of the airlock.
Even with the new suits they were wearing,
that option wouldn’t be advisable.
“Guys, the only way the Marines are getting to you is through that door,” he said,
knowing they also understood the other unsaid message: They were trapped.
Davi watched as Blake took up a position behind a large set of metal crates the size of coffins.
Shira found a spot behind a massive hauling machine,
essentially setting up a killing area aimed at the door they had just come through.
Two beats and nothing.
No one stormed the entrance.
He sensed no movement or testing of the defenses. These guys are very cool customers, Blake thought.
Then suddenly, he started to feel nervous.
Blake scanned the room again,
but couldn’t put his finger on it.
He had missed something and just couldn’t see it. Come on, think dammit!
What would you do in this situation?
You’re not going to rush the door.
That would be suicide.
Is what they needed to protect even in this room? Was it possible that they no longer posed a direct threat to their mission, so they were being ignored? No, that would be too easy. Either way, they had to get out, but he had to assume they were coming in here.
Shira scanned the door but kept glancing over at Blake.
Something wasn’t right.
She had trained with and been around him enough to know when something was bothering him,
and he was agitated.
He kept scanning the room,
but why the room was secure.
Shira began doing the same thing,
looking for anything out of place.
What did they miss?
Then it dawned on her like a wave washing over the shore.
She knew, she just knew,
and they had made a critical mistake that would quite probably get them both killed.
She moved, running towards Blake as fast as her new artificial legs would carry her.
“Blake, fucking down! NOW!” she screamed
just as the explosion blossomed from above him, engulfing the captain in an expanding cloud of flame.
As fast as it had expanded, it went out, and the entire room went dark.
“Shit,” Davi whispered.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE
TWENTYONE
Pilgrimage
Seafu stood outside the temple, looking up at the night sky.
He knew Xera was out there.
Hopefully, the child had stayed out of danger.
Even more so, Seafu hoped she had made contact with Shiasla, or whatever she was calling herself now.
Seafu trusted Shiasla,
but he still had a nagging fear that once they reached the coordinates,
the base wouldn’t be there or wouldn’t be livable. Then what?
They couldn’t come back here!
After tonight, they would be hunted for information on the boxes and their location.
He sighed as he watched the younger initiates race around, packing up things and getting ready.
He set his fears aside.
He had to lead his people, and he couldn’t do that showing doubt.
The great pilgrimage was beginning.
He could sense the uncertainty he felt reflected his people. They were scared and lacked information. Fear of the unknown was the worst kind of fear. They trusted the old teacher,
but did he trust himself,
doubt had begun to eat away at his soul.
He had to appear confident and self-assured of their destination,
even if he didn’t feel it.
An initiate came running over and bowed before Seafu.
“Honored Teacher,” he said remaining bowed,
“the box known as Forsaken has requested a conversation with you.” Seafu started at this.
Aside from his communication with Shiasla,
he had never heard of a box requesting a conversation with, well, anyone.
“Lead on, Initiate. We must not keep Forsaken waiting,” he said,
shooing the young man along.
Seafu suddenly felt himself grow nervous.
Why would a box request his presence?
Could they have offended the boxes somehow? Was it possible that they were going to go back to being dormant,
having decided that the chosen humans and by proxy, the rest of the universe at large were not ready for such a gift?
Had he failed somehow, and they were calling him in to replace the old teacher?
&nb
sp; He shook his head.
No point in dwelling, I will know soon enough, he thought.
Seafu entered the blue-lit chamber,
and it was as if a thousand whispers stopped at once.
The silence was almost deafening.
“I am Seafu, teacher, and follower,” he said with a confidence he didn’t feel.
One of the maintenance droids that were so common around the temple hovered over to Seafu, and a small appendage snaked out from its silver body to place a syringe on the floor in front of him. He could hear the whispers starting to rise again, like a tidal wave.
And then at once all of the boxes began to recite the same words.
“Honored Teacher, we have much to talk about. In this syringe is a modified set of nanites that will allow us to interface directly with each other so that we may have a… more private and efficient discussion. As you know, time is not our friend, and this conversation is important. Will you allow this?” the voices said.
Picking up the syringe, Seafu examined it.
Like all Empire citizens of this day and age,
he had received nanites at birth to aid him in breathing on inhospitable worlds and in the translation of different languages into his own.
He thought about what the box had said,
“Interface directly?”
He wasn’t scared, but nervousness crept into his conscious mind and threatened to stay his hand. Before it could,
he rolled up his sleeve and plunged the needle into his arm, emptying the silver liquid into his vein with a burning pain.
Once he had completed the task, he sighed, and the pain abated.
“What next?” he asked.
Suddenly, the room went dark,
and Seafu found himself outside at the Eternal Flame where he spent most of his time meditating. A pale-skinned being who looked like a mirror of Seafu’s own species, except with black fur and something else,
something he couldn’t quite put his finger on,
only knowing he was seeing something he would be familiar with not necessarily what the creature looked like.
He chided himself,
it is a box he thought,
what form would it have if not for one it takes
the being continued to regard him with eyes the color of a stormy sky.
Revenant Page 14