by Chris Bunch
“Continue the mission,” came from the Udayana.
“Yes, sir.”
The voices were still calm, controlled.
• • •
There were three of them. They prided themselves, as much as a Chitet permitted himself pride, on being better soldiers than the others. After all, they had been Federation Marines before realizing the truth, deserting, and joining the ranks of those who lived logically.
They worked together smoothly, clearing passageways, reporting back to their officer on their progress.
Secretly they held him in contempt for not having the courage to stay with them, but none of them said anything.
They came to a place where several tubeways joined. They saw nothing.
They chose a new passageway, started down it.
Breathe … fingers touching … power focusing … accept Zai … become one … become all …
One of them thought he heard something, looked to one side.
A blur, and then there was a man in a black shipsuit beside them. He took one step forward, leapt, and one leg shot out.
It took the first man at the angle of his jaw, and his neck snapped cleanly.
Joshua landed on his hands, rolled to one side just as the second man fired, blast searing the metal deck. Wolfe curled into a front-roll, and his legs lashed into the second man’s groin.
The third’s aim was blocked. She moved to one side, as Wolfe back-snapped to his feet, ducked under her swinging gun and struck twice, the first blow crushing her solar plexus, the second her throat.
The second man was trying to scream, backing away, gun forgotten.
Wolfe double-stepped forward, lunged, arm snapping forward, hips and shoulders turning. His palm smashed into the man’s face, driving his septal cartilage into his brain.
Joshua watched the final body crumple slowly.
Fingers touching … welcome Zai … let the void take you …
The air shimmered, and there was no one in the corridor except the three corpses.
Each member of the medical team towed an antigrav stretcher behind him. They had four armed men for security, yet still moved slowly, checking every passageway.
They spun, hearing a clang, saw a duct cover from the overhead air system rolling to a halt.
One medic laughed nervously, and they turned back, and then someone shrieked.
Standing in front of them was an impossibly thin, grotesquely white being.
One Chitet lifted his gun, was shot down.
Taen pulled a grenade from his weapons belt, thumbed its detonator, and rolled it into the center of the team.
He ducked around a corner as a bolt shattered the wall next to him, heard the crash as the grenade detonated.
The Al’ar stepped back into the corridor, surveyed the dead, the bleeding, then lifted his weapon and, aiming carefully, finished the job.
• • •
“Sir,” the officer reported. “We’re still taking casualties. We don’t know how many of them there are. There’s one man in a black coverall …”
“That will be the renegade Wolfe,” his superior said.
“… and no one knows how many Al’ar. They’re all around us, sir!” His voice cracked.
The other’s tones remained controlled, calm. “Very well. When one Al’ar — and Wolfe — have been captured, you have permission to kill the remainder.”
“But — yes, sir.” The young officer breathed deeply, reminded himself of the necessity for calm, stood. There were seventeen men and woman crouched around him, sheltering behind weapons mounts. Two hours ago, there had been thirty.
Fire … burn … take … all is yours …
“Sir,” one of them said. “Look.”
The officer noticed that a hose, hydraulic, he thought, had come loose from a mount. Suddenly the hose stiffened, began flailing, and a dark, acrid fluid sprayed out.
Two Chitet jumped for the hose, had it, then it slipped through their fingers, continued thrashing, the solution vaporizing as it showered them.
The officer saw a small round object coming toward him.
It seemed to move very slowly. He had all the time in the world to dive away from the grenade, shouting a warning. The grenade hit, bounced, exploded, and the fumes ignited. The ball of flame grew, devoured the Chitet, and they screamed, danced a moment in agony, died.
• • •
Joshua came out of the doorway fast, kicked the closest man in the side of the knee, went around him for the second.
He hit him with a hammerstrike to the temple, knew he was dead, and forgot him.
The third man’s rifle was coming down from port arms. Its front sight blade caught Joshua’s shipsuit, ripped it and tore his flesh.
The gun went off beside his waist, and the muzzleblast seared across his stomach.
Wolfe had the gun by the barrel, jerked, front-kicked into the man’s stomach, tossed the weapon away. The man buckled, clutching himself. Joshua doubled his fists, struck down at the base of the man’s neck, let the body fall away.
The first man was flat on the deck, gagging, cuddling his knee like it was a child, trying to end the pain.
Joshua high-stepped above him, drove his heel down into the man’s throat, spun away.
Breathe … breathe …
His hands came together.
Feel the earth … invoke chi …
Burn-agony seared, was recognized, denied, went away.
Wolfe ran down the corridor toward sudden shots.
• • •
Taen shot down the last of the five as Wolfe came in at the far end of the long room. “They have bravery.”
“They do. For which the hell with them. Come on. I can feel them above, in front of us. We’ve got to pull back toward one of the command caps.”
Taen slid another tube into the slot of his weapon and followed Joshua down the tubeway.
Let the wind take us …
• • •
The alarm gonged needlessly. The watch officer had seen what was on screen.
Three Federation battleships had come out of N-space and were, a nearby prox-detector told him, less than fifteen minutes from intercept. A gnat-swarm of other ships snapped into being around them.
The officer slapped a button and sirens howled. The Udayana’s watch frequency blared:
“All ships in vicinity of the Magdalene 84 Orbital Fortress. I say again, all ships in the vicinity of the Magdalene 84 Fortress. This is the Federation Battleship Andrea Doria.
“You are ordered to cease all unlawful activity immediately and immediately surrender to this task force.
“Resistance will be useless. Any attempt to open fire on any Federation ship will be met with the full force of our missiles.
“I say again. Surrender immediately. Our ships will match orbits with yours and board. Do not resist!”
The Udayana’s commander was beside the watch officer. “Three battleships … a dozen destroyers … Mister, cut us loose from the station!”
“Sir?”
“I said seal the ship! Get us away from this station and jump into N-space! Move, mister!”
The watch officer began to say something, caught himself. He issued hasty orders.
• • •
The sentries in the boarding bay of the fortress had barely time to duck out of the way as the Chitet battlecruiser’s lock irised shut. Seconds later, the station’s outer lock closed.
They gaped and then felt the vibration as the Udayana broke away from the fortress into space.
One of them stammered a question, but no one had an answer.
Then their suit speakers crackled:
“Fellow Chitet. This is the captain of the Udayana. We have been ambushed by superior forces of the Federation. To avoid exposure and damage to our cause, it is necessary for those of you on special assignment to give up your lives for the cause.
“Under no circumstances can you allow yourselves to be captured, or to provid
e anything that might be damaging to the greater cause.
“You served well. Now serve on. Your sacrifice shall not be forgotten.”
• • •
“Our rescuers appear to have arrived,” Taen said.
“Yeah,” Wolfe said. He saw the sniper who’d been shooting at them from behind a massive generator, and sent a bolt smashing into the man’s chest. “Now let’s try to stay alive long enough to be rescued.
“I hate anticlimaxes.”
• • •
One of the Chitet ships bulleted toward the Federation units, vanished in a expanding ball of gases before it could launch a missile.
The Udayana and its two surviving escorts drove away from the fortress at full drive, then vanished into N-space.
The Federation admiral on the bridge of the Andrea Doria cursed and looked at the man in civilian clothes beside him. “We should have hit them without warning. Now we’ve got nobody to hang.”
The Federation Intelligence executive shrugged. “They’re not important. We can take them later. What’s on that fortress is.”
The admiral picked up the microphone, and the ancient words echoed down the corridors of the great ship:
“Land the landing force.”
Federation soldiers spilled from the airlocks into the bays of the station.
Here, there, scattered knots of Chitet fought back. Only a handful of them disobeyed orders and tried to surrender.
The others died, as ordered.
• • •
“Do you know, One Who Fights From Shadows, I have a possible solution to our problem with the Federation.”
Wolfe looked at Taen. The Al’ar’s eyeslits were focused on him.
Suddenly Taen’s head lifted, he looked beyond, then dove forward atop Joshua.
The bolt from the Chitet blaster took Taen in the back, tearing away his grasping organ and shoulder.
Wolfe heard a shout of joy as he rolled out from under the Al’ar.
Across the chamber he saw a Chitet, blaster snout aiming.
There was no thought.
There was no focus, no Zai.
Wolfe took Taen’s death from his mind and cast it at the Chitet.
The man screamed in impossible agony, fell dead.
Wolfe did not know if he had been the only Chitet left in the compartment, nor did he care.
He knelt beside the Al’ar.
Taen’s eyeslits were closed.
Joshua felt something leave, something that had been the last of a time when there was youth, no blood, no death.
His mind was still, empty.
Time passed. It may have been long, it may have been a few moments.
He felt a presence.
He looked up.
There were three men in the compartment. Two were Federation soldiers. They held blast rifles leveled.
The other was Cisco.
He held a wide-barreled pistol in his hand, pointed down at the deck.
Joshua got to his feet, walked forward.
Cisco lifted the gas gun, fired.
The capsule hit Wolfe in the chest, exploded.
Joshua stumbled.
He felt the savage insect clamor in another galaxy, building in triumph.
Then there was nothing.
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Text Copyright © 1996 by Chris Bunch
All rights reserved
Published in association with Athans & Associates Creative Consulting
Cover image(s) © 123rf.com
Names, characters, corporations, institutions, organizations, events, or locales in this
novel are either the product of the author's imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. The
resemblance of any character to actual persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental.
eISBN 10: 1-4405-5347-5
eISBN 13: 978-1-4405-5347-9