by C. G. Mosley
Ralu led them out of the brig and into the hallway, immediately turning left. Near the end of the hallway, there was another door with a keypad beside it.
“I don’t know the code,” Ralu said, dismayed. “The escape pod is behind this door.”
“Move out of the way,” Drago said, still sounding weak. He drew back with his good arm and thrust his fist hard into the keypad. Sparks flew along with a wisp of smoke, and amazingly the door opened.
“You’re really starting to prove your worth,” Roger said, and he then dragged the Bothian forward and through the opening.
Once inside, there was another door, much smaller.
“It’s the entrance to the pod,” Ralu explained, and he twisted a knob in the center of the door.
There was a hiss, and immediately after, the door swung open. The three of them clambered in, and Ralu seemed to know exactly what to do. He began to work on a series of buttons located on a small console beside the door while Drago and Roger closed the pod door. Within seconds, Roger felt the eerie sensation of falling. He looked out one of the small view ports on either side of the triangular pod and realized they were now separated from the ship.
“How do you pilot this thing to Pana?” he asked, unable to hide his worry.
“The pod is designed to automatically lock on to and land on the nearest planet,” Ralu explained. “We’re safe for now.”
“What’s to keep the Polaris from firing their cannons on us?” Roger asked, as he glanced upward at the large Kaloian ship above them.
“Nothing,” Ralu explained. “But I think it’s highly unlikely that they’ll do that. The Kaloians believe in capture and torture when they have the opportunity. They will most likely send soldiers down to search for us—assuming they notice we’re gone.”
Roger sighed and tried to relax as he knew there was nothing he could currently do but trust the pod to land them safely. He closed his eyes and thought of Captain Hightower as a single tear streamed down his face.
***
“We’re seconds too late,” Jado said as he and Potentate Shade glanced through the viewing window at the vast darkness of space below.
There had once been an escape pod behind the glass, but now nothing but space and the bright greens and browns of the planet Pana looming nearby. With the escape pod gone, the door that once led to it was now automatically locked and sealed shut.
“We must find them,” Shade said. “Especially the Earthling.”
“Your Excellency!” a young man in officer attire called out from the doorway of the nearby brig. It was the captain of the Polaris, Stuart Lord. “Come quickly!”
The potentate moved briskly toward the doorway with Jado in tow. Once they arrived, they discovered the lifeless body of Captain Malcolm Steiger lying in the doorway of an open cell.
“No,” Jado said, his voice just above a whisper.
He moved past the potentate and kneeled beside his former captain. “His neck,” he said. “It’s broken.”
“There are three other guards here that are injured, but alive,” Captain Lord said. Some of his soldiers were attending to the guard’s injuries. “We will question them as soon as they’re able to talk.”
“You do that,” Shade quipped furiously. “And after you question them, tell them that I’ll be personally questioning them also on the root cause of their obvious incompetence.”
“Yes, Your Excellency,” Captain Lord replied nervously.
Jado was still kneeling over the body of Malcolm Steiger.
“We’ll avenge his death, Jado,” Shade said, and he placed a reassuring hand on the young Kaloian’s shoulder. “You’ll get an opportunity to use your power to make the Earthlings pay for this.”
Jado glanced up at the potentate. “Teach me everything you can. I want to use my power to the fullest,” he said, determined. “I want to be a tool for our people—the tool you want me to be.”
“Very good,” Shade said, nodding slowly. “You and I will rule this entire galaxy together. We will bring the Kaloian race to its rightful place—the superior race that rules over all the others.”
“Yes,” Jado said, and he rose to his feet, his good eye narrowed. “I am your instrument of death and destruction…use me.”
Chapter 33
“How are you feeling?” Lauren asked.
Sabre had just woken up from a long sleep. It had been several hours since he’d returned to the ship. He slowly sat up on the bed and wiped the sleep from his eyes.
“Much better,” he said groggily.
“Good,” Lauren answered. “You need to get dressed. Colonel Madigan has ordered that you get your required evaluation from Dr. Holtz immediately.”
She tossed him his gray jogging pants and shirt.
“Any news on Banshee?” he asked, as he pushed his head through the shirt.
“I don’t know,” she answered. “I just woke up about ten minutes before you.”
She watched as he got dressed and could tell he was still very hopeful that Merissa Voight was alive. She wanted to press him for more information but thought better of it. This was going to be a happy day, and the last thing she wanted to do was bring more gloom into the picture before she shared the wonderful news.
“What are you smiling about?” Sabre asked, shattering her thoughts.
Lauren’s eyes widened, and her mouth immediately turned into a straight line. “Oh, nothing,” she muttered. “I didn’t even realize I was.”
“Well you were,” Sabre said, standing. He moved over to her and pulled her close. “What’s on your mind?”
She looked up at him. “Nothing,” she said. “Just glad you came back to me in one piece.”
He stared at her and shook his head. “No,” he said. “There’s something else.”
Lauren smiled again and looked away. Clearly, he was onto her.
“Well,” she began, her head resting against his chest. “I was going to go with you to see Dr. Holtz…I wanted her there when I told you.”
Sabre pulled back from her and moved his head, so he could look her in the face. “Tell me what?” he asked anxiously.
Again, she smiled, this time wider. “Oh, alright,” she said. “I suppose it would be cruel to make you wait at this point…”
Suddenly there was a knock at the door. Sabre shook his head and exhaled. “Hold that thought,” he said, leaning forward to kiss her on the forehead.
She nodded and strolled over to the couch to have a seat.
Sabre pushed the button to open the door and Arthur Law was standing there. He looked exhausted and appeared to still be wearing his flight suit.
“Lawyer,” Sabre said, looking him over. “Have you gotten any rest? What are you—”
“Christian,” Lawyer interrupted. “I’m glad you’re awake. I was going to come sooner, but the colonel was adamant that we let you rest.”
Sabre could sense that something very bad had happened. “Tell me,” Sabre said. “What’s wrong?”
Lawyer took a deep breath and released it slowly. He then made his way into the room. “I have news,” he said. “But before I tell you, you have to go sit down beside Lauren.”
***
Colonel Merrill Madigan was seated at Harry Hightower’s desk. He was staring at a photo of both he and Hightower from way back when they were in the academy together. Madigan had given it to Hightower for his birthday three years ago. It was a token of his appreciation for the friendship Hightower had given him ever since they’d first met in their early twenties—a moment in time captured in the photograph. He then turned his attention to a bottle of bourbon he’d swiped from Ray Compton’s stock and took a long pull from the bottle. Then be began to sob.
He remained in that condition for half an hour, when a sudden knock at the door startled him.
“Come in,” he grumbled, leaning back in the chair. He quickly wiped the tears away from his eyes.
“Sir, you’re needed on the bridge,” Hayden Carter
said as he stepped into the room.
Madigan shook his head and waved him off. “Not now, Carter,” he groaned. “Leave me be for a while. I’ve got to decide what our next move will be, and I want to do it alone.”
Hayden drew near the colonel and put a hand on his shoulder. “Sir, this is a huge burden for you to bear and you shouldn’t have to bear it alone.”
“No,” Madigan said, shoving Hayden’s hand away. “I have to do it alone, I promised Harry I’d do the job and I’m going to do the job.”
Hayden looked at him, perplexed. “Sir, you don’t understand,” he said. “You will not have to do this alone. You need to come to the bridge at once.”
“What? Why?” Madigan asked again, this time a hint of anger in his voice.
“I was ordered not to say, sir,” Hayden replied. “Please, just come to the bridge at once.”
“Ordered?” Madigan said, and he suddenly stood from behind the desk, his eyes blazing with fury. “I’m in command of this ship! You take orders from me!”
Hayden was suddenly very uncomfortable. “Sir, I’m afraid that’s not the case anymore. You really need to come to the bridge at once.”
Madigan shook his head and cursed. He then snatched up the bottle of bourbon and took another long pull before slamming it back onto the desk. Some of the amber liquid sloshed out and wet his hand. Madigan cursed again and wiped the alcohol off on the front of his uniform. He then stormed past Hayden and made his way toward the bridge. When he arrived, he was surprised and angered to see that someone was seated in the captain’s chair. Madigan could only see the back of the man’s head, but something about the dark hair looked very familiar.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Madigan growled. “Who do you think you are?”
The chair slowly spun around to face the colonel and what Madigan saw made him rub his eyes in disbelief. The Asian man was short, middle-aged, and wore black horn-rimmed glasses. He stood from the chair and smiled.
“Good to see you colonel,” he said. “I want to personally thank you for your leadership during this difficult time, however, I think the moment has arrived for me to take command.”
“Yes, Mr. President,” Colonel Madigan said, awestruck. “But how…” he paused. “How…where did you come from?”
President Akagi Hiro chuckled and clasped his hands together. “We have much to discuss,” he said. “But first things first. We need to devise a plan to rescue Commander Roger Stellick.”
Read on for a free sample of Agent Prime.
SC Titan Officers and Notable Crew
Captain
Harry Hightower
Executive Officer
Colonel Merrill Madigan
Commander
Roger Stellick
First Lieutenant
Hayden Carter
Chief Medical Officer
Dr. Phoebe Holtz
Helmsman
Rowena Carter
Communications
Jake Crosby
Deck Crew Chief
Tim Reed
Physical Fitness
Lauren West
Bartender
Ray Compton
Deck Hand
Charlie West
Comet Fighter Pilots & Squadrons
ALPHA SQUAD
CALL SIGN
ECHO SQUAD
CALL SIGN
Roger Stellick
Ice
Merissa Voight
Banshee
Daniel Miller
Wrench
Franklin Fuller
Bull
Zebulon Ryder
Blackout
Simon Richardson
Shadow
Harvey Sears
Subzero
August Johnson
Waldo
Gentry McNevin
Cowboy
Steven Hunt
Hogie
BRAVO SQUAD
CALL SIGN
FOXTROT SQUAD
CALL SIGN
Christian Smith
Sabre
Robert Drake
Tombstone
Charity Price
Covergirl
Noah Fisher
Jaws
Eldon Walker
Rough Rider
Nathan Carmichael
Moondog
Morgan Cross
Moose
Warren Pickett
Spike
Wilson Collins
Popsicle
Thad Watson
Top Dog
CHARLIE SQUAD
CALL SIGN
GOLF SQUAD
CALL SIGN
Tobias Bancroft
Shephard
Vincent Hunter
Spade
Calvin Reynolds
Tinker
Maggie Shaw
Scarlet
Moses Ward
Pope
Simon Owen
Deep Dive
Parker Stevens
Phantom
Nicholas Cox
Neo
Peyton Kelly
Ruffles
James O'Connell
Lucky
DELTA SQUAD
CALL SIGN
HOTEL SQUAD
CALL SIGN
Howard Scofield
Hotwire
Harlan Wolfe
Howler
Amelia Turner
Sunshine
Georgia Clarke
Peach
Jesse Foster
Jinx
Cooper Jenkins
Cyclops
Arthur Law
Lawyer
Ben Foster
Bones
Silas Griswold
Grizzly
Garrett Butler
Romeo
1.
“Rylia Five?”
The words hung there, unanswered for several seconds before the man being addressed looked up from his holo vid and turned to regard the questioner.
“Excuse me?” the man asked.
Bright red eyes, beady and small. Bald head, wrinkled brow, teal-blue skin that sparkled in the dim light of the public transport car. Possibly human, but from a lineage that veered off from Earth-pure millennia earlier. Not that Earth was very pure anymore; a slagging orb of toxic waste and a billion poisons was all that planet held.
“Are you speaking to me?” the man asked when the stranger only smiled at the first question.
“Those boots,” the stranger continued. “That’s Hoocahna snake skin. Those snakes only live on Rylia Five. Just wondering if you were from Rylia Five. Not many people are.”
The man with the boots looked the stranger up and down. Average height, average size, above average looks. Sandy blond hair with deep brown eyes and light tan skin. A smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Just another basic human being in a galaxy many thought had been overrun by the species.
“I’m sorry, but I was in the middle of watching a holo. Do you mind?” the man with the boots responded. He looked up and down the transport car. They were the only ones riding that specific car. Every other seat was open and empty. “Perhaps you wouldn’t mind sitting somewhere else? Lots of room.”
“Of course. Lots of room.” The stranger mimicked the man with the boots, looking up and down the transport car. “Except I like to have a chat with folks when I’m riding the transport. Makes the time fly by.”
“So do holo vids,” the man with the boots said, waving his wrist at the stranger. “See? You can watch whatever you want. Quietly. Over there.”
“Over there?” the stranger asked, pointing to one of the many empty seats. “Or how about over there?”
“Wherever you want,” the man with the boots said. “As long as you stop bothering me.”
“Bothering you? Apologies. Didn’t know I was bothering you.”
“You do now. Maybe leave me alone, please?”
“Since you said please.”
The stranger stood up from his seat, studied the transport car for a minute then moved off to one of the empty seats. He wiped it off with his hand and sat down, his eyes locked onto the man with the boots.
After a couple of minutes, the man with the boots glanced up from his holo vid and glared at the stranger.
“Are you going to stare at me the entire ride?” the man with the boots spat. “Do I need to call security?”
“Sorry.”
The stranger grinned then turned to look out the window by his seat at the dark and roiling skies of Egthak, a planet made up of mostly beaches and scrublands, all boxed in by tumultuous oceans. A massive storm system was on the horizon, moving quickly toward the small slice of continent where the truly brave decided to set up civilization.
“Primed,” the stranger said under his breath.
“What was that?” the man with the boots snapped. “I told you to leave me alone. I’m calling security now.”
“If that’s how you feel,” the stranger replied.
“What? You have done nothing but harass me since you stepped into this car,” the man with the boots almost snarled. “All I have done is try to watch my holo until we arrive at the station. Just a little bit of relaxation before a very important meeting.”
The man with the boots waved a hand over his clothes which were of a stylish cut, obviously business formal, but not expensive. If they’d been expensive, the man with the boots would have hired a private roller or hover car, not taken the public transport.