Infamy (The Mythrar War Book 2)

by Douglas Wayne

  "When they destroyed the warp gates in Sol."

  "Indeed, servant. Destroying the gates made travel into, and out of the system difficult for them. They could still reach Sol, but the journey would leave their ships exposed, allowing us to see them coming from far away."

  "But why would they destroy the gates? Surely they knew you possessed the sacred tech."

  "That is a secret our people have died to protect. When we attacked Earth, we were careful to avoid jumping too close. We settled on a point just inside of the Ort Cloud behind Jupiter, allowing our fleets to stay masked behind the massive planet. Once we moved past that, there was nothing humanity could do to stop us."

  "That still doesn't explain why they never followed the humans after they destroyed the gate."

  "That information has not been provided for me and thus is not important. One day they will send the force to invade New Earth, and when they do, they will find the path cleared for them. Next time humanity's fall will be even more swift than before." Kretch sat back down at his desk. Grabbing his datapad, he waved at the servant dismissively. "Send word that we are to hold our position here until the scavenger arrives. I will be awaiting your call."

  "Yes, Vice-Imperator." The servant bowed, then was gone leaving him with his work.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Unknown Space

  Cargo Bay, Scavenger

  "Humans? All of them?" Wellard limped towards the front of the group to get a better look. He had to see this for himself. To this point, they had seen nothing but Klyptons onboard. If there were humans here, he needed to know why.

  "As best as I can tell," Walker said, moving out of the way to give Wellard a clear view. "What do you think Captain? Are they prisoners?"

  "Hard to tell without getting close." Wellard leaned back into the hallway and rested his back against the wall. Without the constant movement, his leg was throbbing. He needed to get off the leg and in a hurry. "I didn't see any weapons in there. Maybe we can send a few of the men in to get a better look."

  "Not sure I like that, Captain. We have no idea who they are and what they're capable of. As far as we know, they'll alert the Klyptons the moment we step inside."

  "Then what do you say we do? This is where Richards said the power source originated from."

  "Then we go in together. Put a gun on every person inside. If any of them so much as moves a muscle we put a round into their head."

  "As long as they use their best discretion, I agree. Just don't want your men killing innocent people here."

  "Doubt they're innocent," Walker replied. "We saw the same thing on the Providence, just not in these numbers. As far as we know, they are the ones in charge of making sure the device works."

  "We'll see about that." Struggling against the pain, Wellard pushed past the Sergeant and into the room. Nearly all the faces turned and stared at him, eyes focused on watching his every move. It was fitting as he was sure the marines were doing the same to them. He removed his finger from the trigger and allowed the gun to rest at his side, held up by its strap as he raised his hands in the air.

  "I'm Captain Wellard of the NECS Endeavor, which one of you is in charge?" The people looked around the room, their eyes focusing on a person before moving to the next. It was becoming clear that none of them was willing to sell out any of the others

  "The captain asked you a question. It is in your best interests to answer it." Walker stepped forward, his weapon trained on the chest of a woman seated close to the door. She moved her hand to cover her dropping jaw, and a tear formed in the corner of her eye, but she didn't make a sound.

  "Why aren't they talking?" Reeks asked, stepping close to a man seated a few meters away from the woman. Leaning in, he noticed a leather strap attached to his neck. On the center of the strap was a small electronic box right where the man's jugular would be. "Think I found something, boss."

  "What is it?" Walker said, glancing at the man though never moving the weapon off the woman.

  "It's some sort of device." Wellard reached in and brushed his finger over the apparatus. The man who it was attached too held completely still though his eyes betrayed his focus.

  Something wasn't right.

  Wellard was willing to bet the device was the cause. "Who put this on you?"

  The man stood still, staring at Wellard even as Wellard removed his hand from the device. Looking around the room he noticed the same blank stares from everyone in the room.

  Wellard leaned in again and placed his hands on the strap positioned at the back of his neck. "If I remove this from you, can you talk?"

  Panic erupted in the man's eyes. Wellard could tell he wanted to jerk free, but couldn't for some unforeseen reason. He pulled his hand away. The man huffed before his breathing settled down. He sat there for a moment before holding up a single finger at the captain. Wellard nodded.

  Fumbling with the array of wires and fragments of plastic on his desk, he arranged them in some sort of pattern. It became evident what the man was trying to do as soon as he had finished the first symbol, or in this case a letter.

  The letter B.

  Three letters later and he understood the man's reaction."The devices strapped to their necks are bombs. Guessing from their response, they can't speak or move too drastically. Otherwise, they risk it going off. Am I correct?"

  The man nodded.

  Good. Now that he knew the rules of the game, he had a good idea on how to play it. But he wanted to make sure everything was clear before he went too far.

  "Are you prisoners here?"

  Another nod. Wellard continued to ask simple questions, making sure he saw the results just right. By the man's answers, it was evident he was willing to help, even with his limitations. Between Wellard's questions and the few Walker had to add, they had a good idea what was going on down here.

  "One last question. This one is a little more complicated, so I understand if you aren't able to help me out. I'm looking for a device that we detected down here. We believe it allows the ship to make short, subspace jumps. I don't suppose you can show me where it is, can you?"

  Wellard hoped but had few reservations about getting a solid lead. If they weren't able to get up or speak, there was little chance of them being able to show them where it was, but he had to try.

  The man held his head still for a long moment before turning to his left. Wellard followed the man's eyes the best he could, even as he stopped, but couldn't quite make out what he was looking at.

  Wellard shrugged then sighed. He was about to give up when he noticed the woman doing the same thing. Then a man off to the side of the room. Then another. Before long every single one of them was looking in the same direction. All except the two men in the back, whom everyone seemed to stare at. They were staring at the ground.

  "There," Wellard pointed to a spot on the ground. "The device is under the floor."

  "On it," Johnson said, sprinting across the room. He knelt when he reached the spot and pulled panels away from the floor. Reeks rushed across the room and helped. After a moment the pair of them bent down and grunted as they pulled something heavy out of the ground.

  The device looked to be a piece of steel about one meter tall and nearly half that across. Dozens of wires dangled over the device attaching to the panel below a set pf blinking lights. A larger wire erupted out of the floor, attached to the bottom of whatever it was the two marines were pulling out of the floor.

  Was that the device storing power for the jumps and if so what was stopping the people here from trying to disable it? He was about to order a few of the marines to sever wires when Johnson doubled over and vomited.

  Seconds later Reeks joined him, the smell hit Wellard's nose in an instant. Quiet gasps filled the room from the people sitting around at their desks. They'd seen this reaction before and judging from theirs, it was something they needed to fear.

  "Sergeant, pull your men away from the device and prepare to evacuate the room. Somet
hing isn't right."

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Medaca Sector

  Flight Deck, NECS Endeavor

  "I was told to investigate a problem down here," he said, hesitantly. "Commander Bremerton…"

  Tegan reared back and punched the marine in the jaw, drawing blood. "You'll have to try harder than that. Anyone who has been with fleet longer than a few weeks knows command isn't going to send down two armed marines to investigate anything without calling down first."

  The man clenched his jaw before spitting a wad of blood on the floor. "I swear to you I was sent from the bridge. If you call up there…"

  Thomson cocked her blaster before placing it up against the man's head. Tegan watched as her commanding officer pushed the weapon into the man's flesh, turning it red from the impact. She thought, for a moment, the commander was about to lose her temper and end the man like she had Capelli minutes before. But to her credit, she backed the gun off before taking things to that point.

  "We'll settle this the easy way," Thompson said, reaching to her collar to activate her comm. "CAG to bridge." She waited a moment for a response. When she didn't get one, she tried it again. After the second time, she suspected the man had actually come from the bridge, but there was no way in hell the commander had sent him.

  Thompson knelt down and placed the gun against the man's temple. "We'll make this nice and simple. You're going to tell me who actually sent you down here or I'm going to give damage control another mess to clean up.

  The man's jaw quivered, but he didn't say a thing. Water pooled in the corners of the man's eyes as he contemplated his next move. Considering he was outmatched and outgunned, Tegan hoped the man didn't do anything stupid. But she held little faith he was that smart.

  "Fine." Still aiming her blaster at his face, Thompson stood up on her feet. "Tie that piece of shit up to one of the racks. Then if he so much as twitches a finger put a round in his skull."

  Two pilots snapped to action, lifting the bleeding man up and leading him to the racks in the back of the fighter bay.

  "Looks like this shit is a lot deeper than it looked," Tegan said, picking up the marine's rifle.

  "No kidding." Thompson, now somewhat calmed, turned to face the rest of the fighter bay. "Squads Five through nine, you are to stay here in the fighter bay and keep Lieutenant Richards safe while he works in his workshop. One through four, grab your blasters from your lockers and come with me. We have us a bridge to storm."

  Tegan grinned. "You don't waste any time."

  "Every second we sit down here with our thumbs up our asses is another second they have to fortify their position."

  "Assuming someone is strengthening their position on the bridge," Tegan said. "As far as we know these guys disabled communications in and out of the fighter bay. What if we get up there and everything is clear?"

  "Then we say we got our daily laps out of the way."

  Ten minutes later the pilots from squads one through four were assembled in a tight group, each one holding a fleet assigned blaster. Scanning the group Tegan found Switch standing towards the back. He quivered, trying to hold in the tears that threatened to erupt.

  Tegan made her way around the group to him. Placing her arm around his shoulder, she pulled the pilot in for a hug. At her touch the man seemed to let it all go, soaking her shirt with his tears in a matter of seconds. She held him close, patting him on the back while searching for some comforting words, but came up empty.

  What was she supposed to say to him to make him calm down? Every single person on the ship had lost friends and loved ones to combat. The pilots more than most. But not like this. Not to a blaster round in the chest while in the safety of your own fighter bay. Her training hadn't conditioned her to deal with seeing the results of war up close like that. She'd kept her own emotions in check by pushing any thoughts of Lancer off to the side, but having Switch crying in her arms made that difficult.

  "I'm sorry about Lancer. He was one of the good ones."

  "The best," he said as he pushed himself away. Using the sleeve of his shirt he wiped his nose, stopping to sniffle into his arm. "He took me under his wing when I joined. Saved me more times than I could count out there in the field. And now he's gone."

  Tegan bowed her head. "And now he's gone." She took in a deep breath before looking him in the eye. "You don't need to do this. Stay down here with the others and protect Richards."

  "You sure?" he asked, wiping his nose again.

  "Positive."

  He forced a smile, then nodded. "Thanks, Bobcat. I owe you one."

  "Keep Richards safe, and we call it even." She gave him a wry wink. He smiled then turned to join the pilots working in the room.

  Tegan felt a hand on her shoulder, turning she noticed Thompson standing by her side. "Is he going to be OK?"

  "Think so," Tegan replied. "Just needs a little time."

  "We'll see he gets the time he needs. Might mean you get to spend some time in the CIC with me in the meantime. Teach you how to run this show."

  "What?" she said, backing away and raising her hands. "No. I'm not cut out for that command shit. Hard enough thinking about me and my squad."

  "It's not much more difficult than that. But we can discuss it later. We have a bridge to liberate."

  They gathered the pilots together and made their way up the decks using the primary lift to save time. The doors opened as they reached the top, revealing a pair of armed marines standing outside the main door. The pilots held their position for a moment, watching the men to see what they would do. When nothing happened, Thompson stepped into the hallway first, aiming her weapon at the chest of one marine while Tegan followed close behind with hers on the other.

  Tegan's man eased his grip on his blaster to raise one hand in the air, but the other used the lull to grab onto his. Thompson sent a round into the man's head before he could even thumb the safety off, sending blood and bone into the wall behind.

  The remaining pilots moved in and disarmed the remaining marine who gave in without a fight. Using his own plastic restraints, they tied him up to the railing in the hall.

  The group walked up to the central doorway, each pilot holding his weapon at the door ready to fire when it opened. Tegan and Thompson did the same.

  "You ready for this?" Thompson asked, her fingers working the access panel on the wall.

  "Ready as I'll ever be."

  Thompson punched in the final command which caused the door to open. Before it opened more than a few inches, blaster fire erupted on the other side. Tegan ducked off to the side of the wall, using it as cover. Looking over she noticed Thompson had failed to do the same. She held her free hand to her chest, fingers failing to plug the massive hole where her heart should've been.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Medaca Sector

  Bridge, NECS Endeavor

  Jason watched in horror as Thompson took a round to her chest. A large hole erupted in the center, ripping her rib cage in two as the force of the blast splattered blood on everyone in the hall. If the carnage to the CAG had debilitated the people outside, they weren't showing it as they returned fire back onto the bridge.

  A shot caught one marine in the hip, the blast removing just enough of his leg to send the man tumbling to the floor. Another took a blast to his hand sending his gun flying across the room into Price's console. Seeing the weapon up close, Price gasped before backing away along the wall.

  "Get behind cover, Midshipman," Jason said, struggling against his restraints.

  Price stared at him, then at the gun, and continued her backward crawl.

  Damn it. If we get out of this alive, I've got to make sure the crew is ready to handle something like this again.

  It wasn't her fault. While they were trained to use a blaster, it was more out of tradition than of practical use. Usually, if the fight made it to the bridge, there was little the bridge crew could do to stop them. Still, each officer had been issued a portable blas
ter if they had enough sense to have it with them. It looked as if Wilson was the only one to have taken it seriously as he fired off the occasional shot from the XO's station.

  For being surrounded by what seemed to be the firepower of superior forces, the marines held their ground. Their deadly combination of combat training and practical weapons were tearing through the pilots at an alarming rate. The whole thing was a waste. A waste of good men and women who were fighting for the ship. A waste of effort for the traitorous marines who thought they could take it. And most of all it was a waste of time, the one thing they couldn't afford to spare. The longer they sat here fighting amongst themselves the further away the scavenger got with the captain. As it was, they were struggling to get to New Earth at roughly the same time as the ship. If it didn't end soon, this setback would ensure they lost.

  Struggling against his restraints, he watched as two more marines took fatal shots, but not before they killed four more pilots in return. Every inch the pilots took was being paid for with massive amounts of blood. Still, six marines were left standing out of the original fourteen which meant that if they had just half the surviving pilots with them, they should outnumber the traitors by at least three to one. But from his position on the bridge, he had no way to get a clear view of anything in the hallway as the pilots were using the threshold for cover. He'd occasionally see a head poking out to fire off another blast only to duck behind the cover of the wall while another pilot did the same.

  The marine leading the traitors took up a defensive posture behind the captain's terminal as if he was trying to use the commander's body as cover. The position afforded the man an unobstructed view of the hallway while keeping him out of Wilson's line of fire.