Border Worlds (United Star Systems Book 1)

by J Malcolm Patrick

  “You lost consciousness for a few seconds and something strange is happening to the building. The constant vibration is getting worse. We’re in the section that hit the other one. But we’re high above it. There’s no way to get down to the ‘surface’ of the other one.”

  “We need to leave now.” He felt a slight breeze blowing through his hair. He ruffled the dust out of it.

  “Leave and go where? We can’t go down and we can’t get out!”

  “We can go down. Through that opening on the far side and down into the structure we crashed into. We get inside there and we make our way down from that building. It’s only taken impact damage, whereas this one was directly targeted. We have to hurry, the way this place is groaning I have a feeling this marvel of engineering is going to be a dust ball soon.”

  “When you hit the surface roll,” he said. “Roll well or just accept you’re going to break something serious.”

  “Really? That’s hardly a unique incentive!”

  “I know,” Aaron said. “But it’s the only one I could think of at the moment. Just don’t hold anything back is what I meant. It’s all or nothing.”

  He grabbed his belt from the pillar, adjusted it and clasped it around his waist.

  “See you over there.”

  He slid as far down the sloping remains of the lounge floor as he dared, and then leaped off, hit the surface of the other building and rolled. Bruising his poor elbows, knees and everything else until he stopped tumbling twenty feet from where he hit. He just lay there willing the pain to subside. Rachael hit the surface with a grunt and her roll stopped just short of him.

  He hadn’t intended to move just yet, but another tumbling body landed and rolled along the surface, but unlike them the body expertly recovered. Before he got a good look at the surprise jumper, a secondary explosion went off and destabilized the building and it sloped sending him and Rachael careening to the edge.

  The unknown interloper reached and grabbed Aaron’s hand and he grabbed Rachael. The brute’s grip was powerful. He pulled Aaron and Rachael’s weight together and closer to safety. Another explosion rocked the building, this building might soon be rubble too, but at least the surface straightened to a more stable angle.

  Their rescuer had perfect features and flawless skin.

  As Aaron and Rachael lay on their backs and gasped, the features of their rescuer became more apparent. Rachael yelped.

  “Aaron, he’s an Imperial!”

  Aaron leaped to his feet, excruciating pain be damned, and rushed the suspected Imperial who started to say something. But Aaron slammed into the Imperialist before the words could escape his lips.

  The man took the brunt of Aaron’s rush and held him under the arms, raised him up and threw him to the ground.

  Aaron barely put his hands in front of him as the ground rushed up to smash his face. He rolled and attempted a sweep kick, but the man kicked his foot away.

  It was useless, he was too broken to do anything. His arms and legs just wouldn’t respond with the speed he was accustomed. Evidently, he’d broken something important.

  Rachael charged in with a flurry of blows, which the man deflected, he then elbowed her in the throat and she went down. After all this to be beaten by an Imperial agent on the “new” rooftop of a broken building . . . on his home-world.

  How unfitting.

  His assassin bent and stared directly at him.

  “Aaron Rayne, I’m not your enemy! They have deceived—”

  A heavy pulse blast ripped into the man’s back. He stumbled over Aaron and breathed “Quintus Scipio,” before he turned and fell backwards off the ledge. Two figures dressed in ordinary civilian clothing emerged from an emergency stairwell. A stairwell, which probably had never been used during the life of this building, but now might lead them safely down to the surface.

  Not his enemy? Obviously, the agent was confused.

  Quintus Scipio, was that his name? Was it someone else’s? Was it a code? He peered over the ledge, but didn’t see anything. His new rescuers called out to him.

  “Commander Rayne, are you all right, sir?”

  He was too tired to do anything. Even speaking was a massive effort.

  “I’m alive,” he wheezed and slumped on the ceramic surface.

  The pulse-pistol-wielding figure stood over him, seemingly assessing his injuries. “I’m Ben James, USSI. We’ve been shadowing you since your arrival. We spotted our friend here shortly after you two arrived. He was good we have to give him that. He remained elusive right up until your arrival. I’m guessing your sudden arrival forced him to reveal himself.”

  Aaron squinted up at the man. “You used us as bait?”

  “Indeed,” Ben James replied.

  “Why would an Imperial agent save my life?” He thought it best he omit the man’s dying whisper. They may have seen the agent catch him but they didn’t know what he said. Maybe the agent was just messing with his mind, but he wasn’t about to trust anyone.

  “It’s likely the Imperials wanted you alive, be grateful we were nearby.”

  He strained his neck to see where Rachael lay. A dark skinned man, clad in a tight, dark jump suit knelt by her side fiddling with something.

  “What’s wrong with her?”

  “Throat injury, she took a sharp blow to the trachea. The medic will give her something to reduce the swelling and she’ll be able to speak in a few minutes,” Ben said.

  “Great! Thank you for your assistance, just tell me what’s going on, give me some medical assistance and we’ll be on our way.”

  The spy shook his head slowly.

  “No, Commander. Your mission is over.”

  ****

  An unknown actor entering the scene at a fortuitous moment. That was Ben James. There was only one option in this instance. Play dumb.

  “What mission?” Aaron asked.

  “Commander, you can relax protocol. We are aware of the assignment authorized by Supreme Commander Shepherd,” Ben said.

  Another man—another operative—knelt by him with a med-kit and scanned him.

  “Shepherd’s plan was ingenious,” James continued. “An elusive network of operatives. This,” he waved his hand around indicating the smoldering buildings, “is their handy work. Your mission was to stop a threat to the USS. You just believed you were doing it in a very particular way, but in fact your whole mission was shadowed each step of the way up to this point by Imperial operatives and we shadowed them.”

  Aaron sat up and shook his head. Either he’d hit his head really hard, or this fellow was speaking gibberish.

  “All of these shenanigans to level a few buildings?” he said.

  “Not just a few buildings, Commander, an orbital shipyard was destroyed as well.”

  “Terrible as that may be, it still doesn’t accomplish much,” Aaron said.

  “It doesn’t accomplish anything at all now. Since our entire operation exposed them. The Imperials and rogue United Fleet operatives used stolen United Fleet ordnance to execute this attack. With the separatist issue, and a likely referendum on whether to remain part of the USS looming, the fallout from the attack on Atlas would push the referendum sooner. The Border Worlds would no longer endure internal wrangling over whether to remain with the United Systems. A declaration of independence would make them a neutral party in any future conflict between the USS and the Empire.

  “A weakened USS, without the resources of the Border Worlds alliance, could not hope to protect our expansive territory. Years of expansion gone in a flash as world after world would consider allying with the Empire. The Empire doesn’t enforce their ideals, but merely allows them. Any worlds wishing to join them are still governed somewhat autonomously. They might feel the Empire offers stability and assured protection.”

  “Anyone believing the nonsense you just spouted would have to be assuredly insane,” Aaron said.

  Ben James ignored him. “We have to get you two off this building. It t
ook the impact and isn’t structurally sound. We’re still exposed and the situation is fluid,” Ben said.

  Two more men emerged from the emergency stairwell and again, both were dressed in a form fitting dark jump-suit. They activated a battlefield stretcher, which one of them carried on his back, and lay it next to Aaron. He was about to wave them off and stand, but a sharp pain in his back told him to reconsider. He scooted onto the stretcher and lay back. The man did say his mission was over. Maybe it really was. The men hoisted the stretcher and Rachael fell into step silently beside them. Ben continued his rant as they descended the emergency stairwell.

  “Remember, Commander,” Ben continued, “we face ever increasing threats, far outside the scope of our current military projection. The further we expand, the more thinly spread the USSF is—forced to divide fleet and squadron strength among fringe worlds. The Mercenary Coalition is strengthening each passing week, more ships, and more troops. The Frontier Freelancers are enjoying their usual banditry operating between USS and Empire space, causing havoc for both our fleets. Further, out along the outer-arm, the Independent Worlds Alliance has amassed quite a large fleet of their own. Then you have the Coalition of Outlawed Pilots, whose numbers grow every day. They have no recruitment standards, no allegiances—they’ll recruit anyone from any world, Empire or USS. It makes them a dangerous and unpredictable foe.”

  The man kept talking as the six of them made their way down the never-ending emergency stairwell. Two agents carried Aaron. Ben James walked on the right and Rachael on the left, the fourth one held the rear.

  “Where are we going?” Aaron asked.

  “We’ll take you to a USSI safe-house and debrief you. Once you recover you will return to USSF headquarters and take your instructions from Supreme Commander Shepherd.”

  “I need to contact the rest of my team on the planet,” Aaron said.

  “There’s no need, Commander, we’ve sent agents to collect them. We’ve monitored you since you arrived. I’ve been informed they will meet us at the safe-house.”

  “I’d like to speak with them.”

  “I’m sorry, for op-sec reasons we cannot broadcast on open comms right now. A planetary alert is in effect due to the attack. The Empire fleet is less than a day away and all manner of chaos is about to erupt on this frontier. While we make our way, there are some questions I have if you feel up to it.”

  He didn’t, but the more the man talked, the quicker Aaron could confirm his suspicion.

  “Sure, ask me anything,” he said.

  “Right. Why did you come to this establishment? It wasn’t part of your briefing or instruction.”

  “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  Ben James laughed. “Really, Commander, still not convinced are you? I guess I would do the same. What can you tell us about the people who attacked you on Rigel? Did you retrieve anything from them?”

  “No. They attacked other members of my team. I rescued them in a firefight, and I didn’t have the luxury of face time. We retrieved nothing, the firefight was too intense.”

  “I see. Usually, Imperial agents carry a data chip, embedded inside the left forearm. When it can no longer detect the agent’s heartbeat, it scrambles itself and is rendered useless. But it’s not entirely impossible to retrieve some aspects of its storage.”

  Aaron snickered. “I see. Then I’m definitely sorry I didn’t gouge out their flesh before I left.” Somewhere behind him he felt Rachael was smiling—if only slightly—at his last quip.

  “Amusing to you I’m sure,” Ben said.

  This character was probably the most serious agent in all the universe.

  Obviously, his captor knew Aaron was spewing gibberish of his own. It didn’t take spy training to know that. Ben decided to shift the conversation away from the pre-debriefing he seemed to have started and perhaps relax him with small talk.

  “Your officer here, how long have you served together?”

  It’s one thing to keep your mouth shut and be thought a fool, but it’s another to open it and remove all doubt. In this instance, the agent had done the latter too many times, and even though he was on shaky ground before, this “agent” just tumbled off the edge. Surely, if he was a USSI agent he had access to dossiers and should be able to run Rachael through facial recognition.

  “Six years, she’s my science officer.”

  If the man noticed the lie, he gave no indication of it.

  Finally, they reached the bottom of the emergency stairwell, but outside was chaos. Dusty, disoriented, and bloodied people scurried in all directions. Running around in circles unsure of where to go. Emergency crews mingled in-between—they themselves seemed overwhelmed. When was the last time a planet experienced an attack of this magnitude? Rubble and debris tossed everywhere. His transporters had to be careful where they stepped, or a piece of exposed steel or ceramic would further ruin an already terrible day.

  They must be carrying him to some hole. Though for what purpose he wasn’t sure. He was sure, however, after that purpose had been met, both he and Rachael would cease to exist. One thing he was sure of was Ben James was no USSI agent. Aaron was also somewhat certain he wasn’t an Imperial agent either. No this vagabond was an entirely different kind of shady operative.

  Although the planetary alert restricted the use of air-cars other than by rescue personnel, ground cars didn’t have such restrictions. They hustled him off the stretcher and into one, a little rougher this time. Rachael sat next to him and supported him. He still winced every time he moved. The pain in his back was increasing. Two other agents entered the ground car with them and Ben. Another agent took control of a ground car ahead, probably as some type of escort and sped off. Soon they were moving away from ground zero at an alarming speed.

  Aaron looked over at Rachael.

  For the first time since he’d met her, he saw a distinct worry in her eyes as she peered back at him. Still, she remained silent.

  Whatever was happening, she’d come to the same conclusion as him. They had to get far away from this Ben character, but he couldn’t even stand without assistance.

  Lee, wherever you are . . . your Commander needs you.

  Chapter 21 – Opposing Force

  Lower City

  Atlas Prime

  “Lee! Stop!”

  Miroslav bent over and gasped for breath.

  “I can’t go another step . . .”

  About twenty meters ahead, Lee stopped and returned to the gasping pilot.

  “You should be proud you made it this far, I’m impressed,” Lee said.

  “You think we’re in the clear now?”

  “Oh we’ve been in the clear for some time. I just wanted to see how much longer you could keep it up. It turns out staying alive is a good motivator. You should recall this when doing your cardio on Phoenix and up the intensity.”

  “Lee!”

  Lee allowed himself to chuckle, despite the devastation he’d witnessed, and ran through.

  “Come, we’re going to take that emergency worker’s personnel device. He will have the frequency to penetrate the dampening field. The field won’t drop until they’re certain no more devices are present which someone could trigger remotely. We’ve got to find the Commander. I have a feeling whoever tried to nab us is surely after them. Someone knew we were coming, and they were watching us from the time we got here.”

  Flaps straightened and nodded.

  Together they approached the emergency worker who was standing around bewildered like the hundred other injured persons mulling about. Lee grabbed the man’s wrist with his new arm and squeezed. The worker yelped and released the personnel device.

  “What—”

  A stern look from Lee and a tighter grip warned the man to end his protest. He closed his mouth and wondered off in some random direction.

  Lee configured the device.

  “What are you doing, Lee?”

  “The Commander’s device can’t operate with
in the dampening field. He can’t communicate and cannot receive signals, but its location can still be tracked by another device which has the frequency to bypass the field. Here we go.”

  He pumped his fist and showed the device to Flaps. “For once, something’s going our way, Flaps. We’ve been running in the direction of the Commander all this time. His device is moving, and fast. He’s definitely in a ground car. Come, we must commandeer one for ourselves.”

  “I’d rather not. Can’t we steal an air-car?”

  Lee grinned, the hotshot pilot didn’t like driving?

  Remarkable.

  ****

  They didn’t have far to go before “leasing” the property of another emergency worker.

  “You know how to operate one of these things?” Flaps had turned a pale shade. “I can’t understand why anyone ever wanted to live so close to the surface. The sky is where all the fun is!”

  Lee grinned. “That’s because you’ve never been in a ground race, Flaps,” he said, as they entered the locomotive.

  “Buckle up!”

  That was the easy part. The hard part was going to be catching the Commander. The operator of the ground car they pursued was really pushing it. It became easier to navigate the further away from the destruction they moved. Ground cars weren’t popular or numerous anyway. Especially since the majority of the population preferred to live in the upper city, while the dare devils enjoyed the thrill of operating exceedingly dangerous locomotives at speeds beyond sane.

  It soon became apparent Lee would have to settle for following the movements of the other car, rather than intercepting it. Two minutes after the target stopped, he stopped their own ground car about half a kilometer away.

  “Lee, couldn’t you get us a little closer? My feet hurt from all that running before.”

  “When we get back, Dr. Tanner will give you a pair of bionic legs, so you never have to complain that your feet hurt again.”

  “No thanks, my feet just hurt, at least they won’t rust.”

  Lee laughed. The boy was learning. He grabbed a grappling device from the rescue car and a pair of thermal laser optics. The optic device was the twenty-fifth century version of a twenty-first century invention. The original device used radar pulses to ascertain presence and movement within a building but had to be placed against the target structure. This version utilized advanced laser pulses to achieve the same result from a distance. The device then displayed the results to the wearer via thermal imaging.