The Adventures of Connor Jakes: Masks (The War for Terra Book 1)

by James Prosser

  “Your men shoot bang-bang. I was coming quick when tough Miss Bonnie ask to come,” Victor replied, hopping from the table with the med-kit to the bed where Rene lay. “I think the big one eat too much indigo meat. Very bad for artery.”

  “Captain, I only had the one,” Mendel said, stepping in from the corridor. “I haven’t had meat in a while and—”

  Jakes raised a finger to the big man, silencing him. Mendel stepped back into the hall and waited with Parker. The ship had taken refuge in the nearby asteroid field ringing this system. The countermeasures built into the Sweet Liberty had evaded any signs of pursuit, but they needed to lay low. Jakes had decided to stay in-system until they understood what had happened to Rene and why his people were being fired on while looking for a doctor.

  “Eli’s diet ain’t at issue here,” Jakes said, trying to regain control of the conversation. “What we need is to talk to this guy and see what happened. I wanna know why you were so important that guards from wherever opened fire on my ship to get you back.”

  “I do work Veles Corp.,” Victor responded, cocking his head and looking to Jakes. “Slaves get hurt, they call Victor. I like human. Simple physiology. Could use improvement, but okay.”

  “Veles Corporation?” Holcombe said from the corridor. “I know that business. I … um … did not know they used … slaves.”

  “How do you know Veles Corporation?” Jakes asked, as the fat man elbowed past Mendel to enter the room.

  “Mister Jakes, have you looked at any of the components of your own ship?” Holcombe asked, dripping with condescension. “They are the principal aerospace company in this sector of the galaxy. They make everything from the hulls to bathroom … um … fixtures, to the whole ship for military applications.”

  “Slaves, Mister Holcombe?” Melaina said, stepping away from the man. “Human slaves, apparently.”

  “Yes … um … I see. My company only had contracts with them for the … waste disposal … um … systems. We did not know about this.”

  “Maybe you should have learned more about your clients,” Melaina responded, crossing her arms and spearing Holcombe with an accusing glare.

  “Doctor Petros, I am not on trial here. I was just a public relations man with a recycling company. We were trying to … um … clean up the galaxy with our business. I cannot be held … um … responsible … for the actions of our clients.”

  “If Veles is using slaves for labor,” Jakes said, finally stepping between Melaina and the fat man. “Human or otherwise, it’s our job to get them out of there.”

  “They are using slaves…”

  All heads turned to the man in the bed. Rene had sat up during the argument and was now propped up on one elbow, wincing every few seconds as if he was being struck from within, but he looked lucid. The doctor skittered closer and held a scanner to his head. A few seconds later he withdrew a pill from a hidden pocket on the manipulator arms and handed it to the man.

  “Veles is using slaves for labor,” Rene repeated with a slight French accent. “Humans mostly … thousands of them working souterrain … below the surface, with maybe hundreds arriving every week.”

  “Hold on a second,” Jakes said, stepping to the side of the bed. “Why don’t you start by telling us who you are?”

  “Je m’appelle Rene Malik. I was in the Confederate Combined Forces, Special Operations Division. I was captured five years ago defending a refugee camp on Allessis Prime.”

  “And you’ve been used as a slave for all this time?” Melaina asked.

  “No, I have only been here for about a year, I think. I don’t know exactly,” Rene replied, levering himself up on the bed. “A transport came in a few days ago. One of the new slaves told us she heard the war was over.”

  “She was right. The war is over. We won,” Jakes said. “It doesn’t explain why humans are still being traded on the open market.”

  “Slave markets rarely show interest in where the slaves come from, Mister Jakes,” Holcombe said, shouldering past Melaina. “Once sold, the slave is … um … property.”

  The three other humans turned to stare at Holcombe. The fat man was sweating again and looked embarrassed at his own statement. The doctor had moved closer to Jakes and began to poke at him with a manipulator arm. Jakes waved him off as he turned back to Rene.

  “Look, Rene,” Connor began. “We’ve just finished fightin’ a war to get us back to Earth. The good guys won. You can go back to France…”

  “Morocco, actually,” Rene replied, pushing off the bed and standing on shaky legs. “And I’m not going back. Cet endroit est l'enfer. I was able to escape the barracks where we stayed, but I had to crawl into a transport tube to get away. I passed out. When I awoke, I was lost. I wandered around the terminal until a new tube arrived. I think I switched transports three or four times to avoid capture, all the time hiding. I am not sure I could tell you where the slave facility is. I have to find help to go back and free my people.”

  “Whoa, there, Frenchy,” Jakes said, raising his hands. “We can’t go back there and you ain’t in no condition to play Moses.”

  “If you won’t help your own kind to freedom, then you can go to hell,” Rene replied, standing fully upright and looking Jakes in the eye. “What kind of human are you anyway?”

  “He’s a pirate, actually,” Holcombe said from behind Melaina. “He fights for no one but himself. Isn’t that right, Mister Jakes?”

  Connor turned back to the fat man. A restraining hand on his chest from Melaina kept him from physically attacking him. Holcombe kept his gaze leveled on Connor’s face. He did not flinch as Jakes came at him. The doctor skittered over again and began to scan Jakes.

  “Holcombe, you son of a bitch!” Jakes said. “I’ve spent the last six years either in a Ch’Tauk prison or out there fighting for our people while you cowered in some hole, stealing scraps from richer people than you. If anyone here has earned a little time off to see the sights, it’s me.”

  There was a long pause as Holcombe continued to stare down Jakes. It was Holcombe who finally looked down to the deck. Melaina felt the man relax as the tension bled away. Rene watched the proceedings carefully, not knowing where the balance of power stood.

  “Ribs broken,” Victor said, closing the scanner and leaping back to the med-kit. “You need to sit down so I fix.”

  “Not now, Doc,” Jakes said, swatting at the alien and turning to face Rene. “My name is Connor Jakes and you are aboard my ship. I expect a little courtesy from my guests.”

  “Connor Jakes?” Rene replied, recognition dawning on his face. “Your reputation is known to me. I thought you’d be bigger, though.”

  “If my reputation is precedin’ me, then I suppose I’m big enough,” Jakes retorted. “In any case, it’s a bad idea tryin’ to sneak back to Aleinhelm. They know our ship and they know my crew.”

  “Bad idea or no, you will get me back to that planet and I will free the slaves from Veles,” Rene said. “If you have to take me elsewhere so I can stow away on another ship going there, I will.”

  “We’ll help, Rene,” Melaina said, stepping up. “We have to.”

  “Darlin’, you’re oversteppin’ your bounds,” Jakes said, turning to face Melaina. “This is my ship and my crew. I’m the one who says where we go and who we rescue.”

  “Okay. So where do we go and who do we rescue?” Melaina replied, crossing her arms and stepping forward.

  Connor looked back to Rene. The man had set his jaw and was staring back with a burning intensity. Melaina was looking at him with equal determination. For the first time in his memory, he could feel the tug of responsibility in his heart. He felt obligated to Melaina despite his misgivings about the assignment. As Connor weighed the situation, he felt a slight prick at his side.

  “Ouch!” he cried, swatting away the doctor from his ribs. “What the hell are you doin’?”

  “Check for infection,” Victor replied, holding up a small vial of blood. �
��Ribs can be healed, Captains Jakes. You can go rescue slaves soon.”

  “Boss, if we’re goin’ back down there to free slaves or somethin’,” Parker said, sticking his head around the doorframe from the hall. “Can you let me know? I gotta prep the chemicals. I think I’ve invented a new formula micro-explosive and I wanna mix up a batch.”

  “Would all of you back off!” Jakes yelled, holding up his hands in defeat. “Fine, we’ll go back down, but the Liberty is goin’ to have to stay out of range. We’re gonna need to get into Veles first and find out where they are keepin’ the majority of the slaves. For all this, we’re gonna need a plan.”

  “Whatever your plan is, I am a part of it,” Rene said. “I would like to take a shower first, and maybe shave if anyone can lend me a razor?”

  “Okay, so here’s what we’ll do,” Jakes said to the group. “We’ll let Frenchy here get cleaned up—”

  “I’m Moroccan, Captain Jakes.”

  “And then we’ll meet back in the conference room in an hour to try and work out a plan. I want everyone there, even you, big boy.”

  “I will join you if it means I can retrieve my lost finances and get away from you, Mister Jakes.”

  “No promises, Holcombe. Our first priority is figurin’ out how to get down there without Liberty. Melaina, get Bonnie to start monitoring local traffic. I’m gonna need Tuxor too, so have them put the twins in the computer. That ought to keep them happy for a bit. Our first priority is finding transport back to Aleinhelm.”

  “I have a suggestion,” Holcombe said, stepping back into the conversation. “About the ship.”

  “What is it, tubby?” Jakes asked, eyes rolling.

  “Well, you say you need a ship but cannot use this one, right?” Holcombe asked. “The answer seems simple for you.”

  “And what’s that, Albert?”

  “You are a pirate. I suggest you simply steal one,” replied Holcombe.

  “That simple, huh?” Jakes replied. “Come on, folks, I’ll meet you in an hour and we’ll come up with something better than You are a pirate, right.”

  The group began to move out of the room. Rene stepped into the narrow bathroom at the far end of the room. As soon as the door shut, the doctor began to pack up his med-kit. Albert Holcombe stayed behind while the others filed out and went about their business. As soon as the outer door closed, Holcombe stepped closer to the little doctor.

  “Doctor … um … Victor?” Holcombe began. The creature wobbled his head at him. Holcombe took it to mean go on. “I wonder about your scan of the captain.”

  “Yes, is good,” Victor replied. “I check for infection. Captains Jakes has been damaged many times. I fix.”

  “I see. You must be a wonderful doctor to heal him so quickly,” Holcombe said.

  “I have lot of practice on slaves,” the doctor replied. “Don’t like Veles keep slave. Just one doctor, though. Now, I fix.”

  “Indeed. I was hoping you could do me a favor … um … for the captain, I mean.”

  “Is okay.”

  “I have a small sample of his blood from before his injury,” Holcombe said, producing a stasis capsule from his robes and handing it to the little creature. “We were involved in some nasty business in a swamp recently and I thought you might want to check for any strange micro-organisms he may have picked up.”

  “Is okay,” replied the doctor.

  “And when you have completed the scan, just let me know the results. I will pass them along myself. The captain will be busy rescuing slaves and all.”

  “Is okay.”

  “Thank you,” Holcombe said, stepping away from the creature and to the door. “You are an excellent doctor and a good … um … man. Thank you.”

  As Holcombe stepped out of the door and into the corridor, the doctor held the stasis capsule up and clicked the button on the side. A puff of steam puffed from the small container and a vial dropped out of the bottom. Victor held it to the light to see the deep red color.

  “Is okay.”

  5

  If any of you start to think that man has gone soft, let me tell you something. I once saw him stab a man through the hand and twist it until the man told us what we wanted to know. It came out of nowhere but it worked. Jakes hides his ferocity under a mask of uncivilized behavior, unlike some people.”

  Henry Moore

  Lecture Series: Alliance War College

  It took three days to find the signal they needed. Rene spent the time re-nourishing his damaged body and telling the others all he could remember about the slave quarters. Bonnie spent her time with him, trying to coax the man’s bruised and battered soul back to life. She had gotten him to shave and eat, even when he wanted to plan his return to the slave quarters. He was so single-minded in his desire to find the humans and free them he nearly starved himself. Connor watched the developing relationship with unease. Rene had been careful not to tell the captain everything about his incarceration. It made the pirate distrustful that someone else on the ship was harboring a secret identity.

  Melaina had taken some convincing, but she agreed to stay on the Sweet Liberty during the raid. She was the least experienced at the procedure and he would need Bonnie when they took control. Tuxor, the twins, and the doctor would need to be available after the actual assault. The rest would be the first to board when they took over the other ship. Holcombe had stayed in his quarters after agreeing to provide “intelligence” on the corporation. After Connor forced him to listen to the plan, Holcombe had insisted on coming along in case they needed someone more familiar with corporate structures. As his father, the fat man also made Connor agree to bring along Bric so he could keep him safe. Jakes agreed only after Melaina talked to him. Her maternal streak seemed to be getting the best of her, and Connor had no desire to argue anymore. If it came to it, they would leave the two and make a run for it.

  The ship was moved nearer to the open space lanes where traffic entered and exited from space regularly. Monitoring local comm channels, Bonnie had reported the kidnapping of the doctor had only gained minor attention on the news. Aleinhelm’s reputation as a home for less reputable business practices seemed to be working in their favor. The doctor, who had been formally nicknamed Victor Frankenstein by the crew, was a rival corporation stealing assets. It was the equivalent of corporate head-hunting in the local system.

  Victor had proven to be more of a miracle than first thought. Years of tending to wounded and dying human slaves had made him a master at quickly repairing even the most life-threatening injuries. The owners of the slaves wanted their property not only in working order but sometimes better. Jakes had needed to stop the doctor during the procedure to repair his ribs from hardening the bone density any further than necessary. The little alien protested, but in the end gave his customary “Is okay” and set about other work.

  It took two more days of waiting and preparing before the ship they were waiting for made an appearance. The one advantage to the corporate system was the accurate timetables their deliveries ran on. Freighters entering the system late were fined large sums of money for the delay. If a ship exited more than one local day late, they might even be turned away. Two days and they would likely be fired upon by local police. The cargo freighter they were waiting for opened a portal from M-space precisely on time. Melaina flew the Liberty close to the translation point and watched as the bulk ship made its rapid, fiery exit from the portal.

  M-space had been discovered centuries before when an accidental overload in a ship’s magnetic containment system had torn a hole in space. It appeared as a swirling vortex in space which revealed a blue-brown area beyond. Exotic, high energy particles clinging to the hulls of ships when translating back to normal space ignited upon contact with the local vacuum and caused a fireball of plasma and gasses to form around the hull. The corona would engulf a ship for the few seconds upon exit and then bleed off into space. For those few seconds, though, most ships were blind and deaf to the surroundi
ng space.

  Sweet Liberty leapt forward as the CLF-2491 made its appearance. The fiery shroud covered the ship as expected, and Liberty pounced. The converted yacht had acquired an advanced shielding system during the war, and used it to good effect now. Sliding aft of the freighter, Liberty entered the plasma corona, matching speed and course. As the exotic particles bled away, Melaina brought the ship closer to the freighter’s engine pods. From this angle, she could only make out the flattened stern of the ship. She brought Liberty in closer, almost touching the hull plating of the massive cargo vessel.

  The CLT-2491 was a mass cargo hauler designed for the transport of livestock and supplies to far-flung colonies. It had a long central stalk which wrapped around a flattened sphere nearly a kilometer across. The rounded disc contained areas of habitable space where cattle and other necessary livestock items could be kept and fed. Information from Rene had informed them the corporation had converted it to haul slaves from processing facilities on far-off planets. Rene had tried to remember any scraps of information about the processing planets, but his memory refused to cooperate.

  On a signal from below, Melaina brought the ship up and over the hull of the hauler. She skimmed the ship, keeping close enough to the hull they wouldn’t be detected by onboard sensors, but far enough away she wouldn’t scrape the paint. The Sweet Liberty moved forward over the hull as the ship below corrected its course for Aleinhelm. Melaina was being aided by the twins in piloting so she could keep the ship steady. The liquid creatures could read course changes much faster and adjust to keep Sweet Liberty on task without detection.

  During the planning, Holcombe had pointed out the necessity to keep the slaves not only alive but ignorant of the takeover. A level of subterfuge and stealth was needed if they were to infiltrate the corporate headquarters and discover where the slaves were being kept. To that end, Sweet Liberty was flying towards the bow of the freighter and her main crew areas. It was not much different from other operations they had run, except the guards would be better armed than most freighter crews.