Retribution_Downfall of the Republic

by T. C. Shrader

“Why bring them back at all?” Alistair asked. “We don't necessarily need access to the people, just to their ship. Achilles can get their nav data from there, but it will take time. We can just park outside and scan around.”

  “While the Pythons are clumsy with their attacks, they've recently learned to expertly start covering their tracks. Somehow, they got their hands on some military grade firewall equipment, and their ships need verifiable DNA encoding to access the flight logs and warp drive records.”

  “So just scrape it off my knuckles,” Stewart suggested. “I'll happily provide a sample.”

  “We still need to decide who will be entering the ring,” Rachel said. She didn't want her growing personal feelings for Stewart to impact her planning. “But that's true, if we can bring a .. piece of one of the ship's captains back, Achilles can copy the genetic imprint and access the logs that way. Either way, we need one of their, um, 'officers', for lack of a better term, to access their ships protected databases. Once we have that information, we should have the locations of all their installations in the system, including their main base.”

  “Can we not just scan for it?” Lili asked.

  “No, they hide their stations and ships extremely well. It would take close range scans of every planetary body, as well as all of the asteroid belts. It could take years.”

  “Alistair has experience in this field.” Mel decided it was time to chime in.

  “What, scanning systems?” Rachel asked. She didn't understand where Mel was going with this.

  “No, removing body parts and sneaking away with them.”

  The entire crew looked at Alistair, mostly in disbelief.

  “Hmm?” Alistair was spacing out and quietly realized that the focus was now on him. “Oh, you mean Brick! Hah.”

  Their looks of disbelief changed somewhat to shock.

  “I took his finger on a whim, initially. But it ended up coming in handy. Proved to this one,” he pointed at Rachel, “that I'd actually killed him. Was our first trust building exercise as a crew.”

  Rachel laughed, then immediately felt guilty.

  “A little morbid, isn't it?” Cairenn asked.

  “He had it coming,” Rachel said before Alistair had a chance to defend himself. “What do you think, Richard?”

  Richard Stewart made it clear he expected himself to be the one to enter the ring, but he realized where they were coming from. Although he'd never witnessed it, he knew Alistair had a flair for gratuitous violence.

  “It's up to the big man. It won't hurt my feelings if you all think he's a better choice. There will be plenty of opportunities to spill blood where we're going.”

  “I'll be happy to do it,” Alistair said.

  “And you're sure you're up for it?” Lili asked. She was more out of the loop than any other crew member, and wasn't sure how trained Alistair was. “We most likely won't know who we're fighting until it's too late to turn back, unless Rachel has any more information up her sleeve.”

  Rachel made a show of checking her sleeves, and said “Nope, fresh out.”

  “I can't wait,” Alistair said. Nobody save Mel knew just how serious he was.

  “Alright. We'll enter Alistair in the ring, he puts on a show, then the next night gets to fight in the big match against a Python captain. They run the show there, and a good enough contender will always draw out one of their top fighters. We'll have Stewart and Garcia suited up in their armor and ready to deploy if the need arises while the rest of us will stay on board monitoring as much of the station security resources as we can.” Rachel's ability to flow from in command of the conversation to personally invested in the needs of another was uncanny.

  “Won't it look suspicious just Alistair boarding the station? When I was in the Navy, we busted a few of these. The more prominent members show off their entourage, while up and comers at least have one or two people with them. Usually the men do the fighting and they parade women around as eye candy.” Everyone looked at Lili as if she'd just volunteered herself.

  “I'll go too,” said Cairenn. She was intrigued beyond reason.

  “Alright, so Lili and Cairenn will go with Alistair to the station. You're right, Lili – it will look less suspicious if he has some arm candy,” Rachel said with a wink.

  “Whoa whoa, no – I didn't mean me,” Lili tried to interject.

  “The only other option is myself or Mel. I've got to work Achilles while we scan the station and docked ships, and there's not a chance in hell I'm letting Mel go on board The Bloody Fang.”

  “What?! Why not?!” Mel shouted.

  “I'm not doubting how tough or dedicated you are Mel, but I think we all know Alistair would murder the first man to look at you.”

  “Won't argue that,” Alistair said. Stewart laughed, and nodded. As the group grew more cohesive, they all naturally became more protective of one another.

  “Fine. I'll stay here with the fugitives and criminals,” Mel said, which drew a laugh from the group.

  “Alright, then it's all settled. We have our plan, just need to finish up the details. And Alistair, make sure to bring us back, um, what we need.”

  “Yup.”

  Chapter 36

  The group worked feverishly on their various tasks in an effort to finalize preparations for not just the mission aboard The Bloody Fang, but for their continuing offensive against The Burmean Pythons. Alistair was ready, his armor shining and his weapons prepped. The marines were similarly combat ready, although Garcia had been working 'round the clock on his and Cairenn's pet project. They'd worked very hard to keep it a secret from Alistair, but had to eventually concede that it was a surprise to keep him away from the workshop.

  “Fifteen minutes until arrival at Fang,” Achilles announced on the ship-wide intercom.

  Alistair was, for once, alone in his quarters. He found himself retreating there out of habit – not to avoid any of the other crew members, but because his twisted memories from it gave him confidence. He overcame the worst a team of professional torturers could come up with. Anything else would be easy. Or so he told himself.

  His door buzzed and before he could respond it opened. Liliana Ito was there in a stunning black skirt and tank top. She had a rather gaudy feather boa draped over her shoulders, high heeled boots, and mesh leggings. Her dark hair formed ringlets as it flowed past her shoulders unhindered.

  “Not a fucking word,” she said, clearly irritated.

  He didn't hear her.

  After she came in, Cairenn walked in wearing what looked to be a body glove – skin tight elastic fabric with a zipper on the front, drawn down to reveal an uncomfortable amount of cleavage. Her hair was in pigtails and for the first time since they'd met she was wearing makeup. Her body suit was pitch black with green accents, a nice touch that complimented her dashing eyes.

  Lili stood 5' 9” tall, several inches shorter than the average of 6'. Cairenn was a dainty 5'4” and together they really looked like flawless arm candy.

  “This isn't all that bad,” Cairenn said. Nothing seemed to phase this woman.

  “No, not bad at all,” Alistair said, holding back laughter. They both looked stunning.

  “When this is over, I'm going to have to fight the urge to hit you,” Lili said.

  “Keep dressing like that and I'll let you do what you want.”

  Cairenn stifled a laugh and excused herself, while Lili blushed and glared at the same. She was not amused.

  “C'mon, let's get ready to disembark,” Alistair said, an enormous grin plastered on his face.

  He was certain Lili would end up hitting him before this job was done.

  The three 'pirates' walked into the mess hall, where Rachel and Mel were waiting to see them off.

  “And as you can see,” Melanie said, “the females of the species attach themselves to the largest male in an effort to protect their brood. They display unnecessarily flashy colors to attract the largest specimens, while the males seem to lack any semblance
of taste whatsoever.”

  Rachel couldn't help but laugh, while Alistair and Lili just glared. Alistair's outfit consisted of his regular fatigues and a form fitting A shirt. His trademark cigar hung lazily from the right side of his mouth, smoke slowly streaming upward. A pair of aviator style glasses concealed his eyes while drawing attention from his scars.

  “Oh lighten up guys,” Cairenn offered. “You both look perfect. Nobody will bat an eye at either of you.”

  She struck a seductive pose, and said “they'll all be too focused on me!”

  “Let's just go, please. I'd like get this over with as soon as possible. I'll be leaving my dignity on this ship, and I don't want to lose it forever.” Lili felt absurd in her new clothes, but was a little envious of how care free Cairenn managed to be.

  Alistair still had brushed off Mel's jab and managed to regain his smile.

  “Now docking with The Bloody Fang,” they heard over the intercom.

  “Welp, let's get going,” Alistair said. The three of them headed toward the starboard air lock, mentally preparing themselves for what was to come.

  “Wait!” Mel shouted. She ran over and gave Alistair a rib crushing hug. “If you don't come back, I will die and haunt you forever.”

  Alistair was taken by surprise, most physical contact left him uncomfortable. But Mel was the closest thing he had to family, and he wrapped his arms around her.

  “I wouldn't dream of it. Take care of these guys, okay?”

  She nodded and let go, then Alistair, Lili, and Cairenn were gone.

  As soon as they reached the airlock, they saw Stewart and Garcia in their powered battle armor. Both marines offered a salute, then one of them whistled. The armor concealed who it was, but Cairenn knew. She'd slap Garcia when she got back. And in her mind it truly wasn't a matter of if, but a matter of when.

  Chapter 37

  The Bloody Talon was an enormous station to have been 'forgotten' by the Republic, nearly four kilometers in diameter. Its main body was saucer shaped, with an outer ring for docking. The saucer and outer ring were linked with dozens of walkways that kept the station structurally sound while simultaneously offering transport from docked ships to the main hub.

  The central body was many floors tall and overall resembled a spinning top. It was nestled deep in an asteroid field that was technically outside of the Burmea system. Much of this area was uncharted, as the Republic was more concerned with finding planets to inhabit than random pods of space junk. Unfortunately for the Republic, however, these extra solar pockets provided perfect cover for illicit operations.

  Almost immediately after entering high frequency scanning range, The Ubik detected four known slaver ships, as well as dozens of pirate corsairs.

  “This isn't going to be easy,” Rachel said from the bridge. Mel nodded. They both knew how difficult it was going to be to stick to the mission for the greater good. The Pythons were heavily involved in human trafficking, and taking them down would not only allow the crew of The Ubik to rescue dozens or even hundreds of slaves, but would stop them from taking any new ones in the future.

  Alistair, Lili, and Cairenn made their way toward the nearest tram station, but found it to be out of order.

  “Wow, this place is a shithole,” Cairenn noted as they started working their way clockwise along the outer docking ring in search of a functioning tram way. The trip between the outer and inner rings was only about one and a half kilometers, but any self-respecting combatant wouldn't walk – they'd be delivered. Even if they had to walk to find a functioning tram.

  Upon entering the ring of the station, they realized just how busy the place was. Their costumes helped them blend in, and they were soon among many on a station full of slavers, murderers, and thieves. Shops set up in the large palisade wrapping the outer edge of the main disc sold every conceivable narcotic and liquor, while brothels and 'massage parlors' advertised themselves with familiar red lighting.

  More than once did Alistair have to chase off pimps looking to purchase or sample 'his girls' but it was more for show than anything. He had a feeling Lili would happily jam her alluring black high heels down the throat of anybody who got too close.

  “What's it like?” Alistair heard Mel ask over their communications net. Alistair's time with the marshal's service not only saw him implanted with military grade retinal enhancers, but also with hidden comm devices in each ear. He still had to speak to reply, however the microphone in the comm units picked up his throat's vibrations as he did.

  “Can't you see? There are cameras everywhere,” he replied.

  “Yeah, but I'm not there! I wanted to go and see for myself,” she said.

  “It smells like shit and sweat and .. yeah. It's not pleasant. Too many people.”

  He was to make his way directly to the fighting pit check in area for new members. It was essentially a cage ringside where the new fighters met up, and left their entourages behind while they fought.

  “Don't forget, this is supposed to be a fight to the death. I don't doubt that you're ready for that, but we're pretty much past the point of backing out now,” Rachel said.

  “I wouldn't have it any other way,” he replied with a smile. He could almost taste the blood in the air as they worked their way closer to the pit. His mind was alight with a maelstrom of emotions, none of them pleasant. As he walked with two scantily clad and beautiful women clinging to his side, Alistair's thoughts were nowhere near them. He had a thirst for blood and nothing was going to stop him from it.

  His considerable size, especially when compared to his smaller companions, afforded him no small amount of sharp stares. Alistair was 6'11” and slightly over 300 lbs. His hair was shaved short and he looked like a caricature of the drug running cage fighter his backstory set him up to be. He wore his aviator sunglasses no matter how dimly lit the station got and was noticeably over-protective of the women at his sides.

  When they reached the cage, he showed the badge Achilles had made for him to the guard outside, along with Cairenn and Lili's ID badges.

  “Alright Mr., uhh... Goliath. How original. Head on in. Your fight is next.” The guard was clearly not amused and Alistair made a mental note to chastise whoever came up with the name. He just hoped his first opponent's name wasn't David.

  “Weapons too,” the guard said. Alistair begrudgingly took off his belt and handed it to them man.

  “I get that back,” Alistair said, pointing at his beloved handgun.

  “Buddy, you think we could run this place if we kept any of the weapons? Now go sit down.” The guard wasn't accustomed to taking any lip from the contenders and it showed.

  The trio sat down on a suspiciously damp steel bench and noticed that a fight had already started. Two muscle bound women were in the arena, one with a short sword and the other with a whip. They both had deep cuts dispersed all along their bodies and were breathing heavily. This fight was almost over.

  The woman with the whip, slightly smaller with short black hair, waited patiently for her attacker to make the first move.

  Sword woman sprinted to close the distance and rolled to her left as her opponent's whip cracked, then got within the weapon's range and kicked out the other woman's knee. She sliced her weapon arm, forcing her to drop the whip, then kneed her in the back. It was clear who won.

  “Pretty brutal,” Cairenn said. The other two just nodded.

  Although the woman with the sword was clearly the winner, she still reached down and grabbed her opponent's hair with her left hand – then stabbed her short sword into her throat from the side. She gurgled and reached her remaining good hand up in a futile attempt to stem the bleeding. She died quickly and the crowd roared.

  Lili watch the gruesome display in horror, then grabbed Alistair's hand and squeezed.

  “Are you sure you're up for this?” She asked before turning to face him. What she saw was shocking.

  Alistair was the epitome of zen. His breathing regulated and calm, his posture
perfect, and his face held no trace of fear. He didn't have to answer. Lili looked up at the giant of a man she had just started getting to know, and was more afraid of him than any of the scumbags on the station.

  Almost as if exiting from a trance, Alistair noticed Lili holding his hand, looked to her, and smiled.

  “Don't worry about me. There's nothing they can do that hasn't been done before.”

  He could feel her fear and leaned down to kiss her cheek.

  “Back before you know it,” he said, then stood up just as the announcer called his name.

  “Next in the ring, we've got a fan favorite – Mr. Gibb, facing off against the rookie Goliath!”

  Alistair could hear the dismay in the man's voice and shook his head. Fucking Goliath was the best they could come up with.

  As both men left their corrugated cages on opposite sides of the ring, Alistair took a final puff on his cigar and dropped it on the ground. He eyed his opponent and found him to be a man of staggering size. As it turns out, Mr. Gibb was significantly larger than Goliath. He had to be at least 8 feet tall and 400 lbs. The average height of a man in the Republic was 6'5”, and Alistair was larger than most.

  Mr. Gibb, however, made him feel meek.

  “Alright gentlemen, pick your weapons and let's get this shit started!” The announcer said.

  Both contenders made their way to a weapons chest on a hover dolly in the center of the ring. Mr. Gibb grabbed a chain with a spiked ball on the end. Alistair debated for a moment before settling on a heavy one handed hammer. He pounded it into his left palm a few times and judged the weight more than sufficient for spilling Mr. Gibb's brains across the dirty floor.

  “Back to your corners, sirs, and the fight can begin! Is everybody ready to see more blood?!”

  The crowd roared in response and Alistair estimated there had to be at least two thousand people in attendance.

  Mr. Gibb was wearing black elastic pants and boots with no shirt. He wanted to show off his physique to try and psych out his opponent – he figured that his barrel chest and moderate gut, covered in ragged patches of hair, would be enough to throw another fighter's guard off.