Purge of Prometheus

by Jon Messenger

  “The lethargic feeling you’re experiencing right now is due to the sedative that is being pumped into your bloodstream as we speak,” Keryn began in a soft tone, bending slightly at the waist so that she was eye level with the seated Oterian. “You can continue to struggle against your restraints all you want, but it will be in vain. You are now my pet, subjugated and calm.”

  Keryn walked around Cardax’s back, running her fingertips gently over his broad shoulders and stroking the back of his head. Leaning forward to whisper into his ear, she continued, “I will be asking you some very important questions over the course of this evening. If you are cooperative, this will be a short and relatively painless experience. If you lie to me or refuse to answer, I will discipline you as though you were a disobedient pet.

  “I want to ensure you have a full understanding of our version of discipline, I want to introduce you to Mr. Decker.” She clenched his hair between her hands, forcing him to face toward Adam as he approached. In his hand, he held a serrated scalpel, which he twisted to catch the dim bulb’s light.

  As Keryn spoke, her voice took on a violent and malicious edge. “You will answer all of our questions tonight, one way or another. Do you understand me?”

  Cardax stared at Adam with fearful eyes, feeling helpless so long as the sedative continued to run through his veins. He shook his head futilely, trying to pull away from Keryn’s firm grasp. Seconds ticked by as all the members in the room remained motionless. Finally releasing a sigh, Keryn frowned.

  “That was a question, Cardax,” she said with a disturbing calm, “and you failed to answer.” Looking up, she motioned to Adam, who stepped forward, still twisting the scalpel with surgical precision. Cardax let out a muffled scream, his eyes wide with panic.

  Adam placed a firm hand against the smuggler’s chest, forcing his back firmly against the cold metal chair. “If you struggle,” Adam warned, “this will be much more painful than it really needs to be.”

  Cardax twisted under the pressure on his chest, but couldn’t manage enough strength to break free of Adam’s restraint. Adam placed the scalpel against Cardax’s muscular chest, slipping its blade underneath the thick fur and piercing the skin. Flattening the blade, Adam moved the serrated blade in between the skin and muscle in the smuggler’s chest before applying a downward pressure to the handle. The razor-sharp blade cleanly severed through connective tissue between Cardax’s skin and muscle, causing excruciating pain. Jerking madly, the Oterian screamed and tried in vain to break free of his bonds.

  Keryn felt her pulse quicken, beating a maddening rhythm in her chest. Her breathing became labored and sweat beaded along her temples. Each scream felt like claws being drug down her spine. Clenching her eyes tight, she grinded her teeth against the invasive noise.

  There had been a time when Keryn would have welcomed the screams; she would have allowed herself to swim in his agony and would finish, sweaty and weary, but exhilarated. But those were darker times; times where she had lived her life for no one but herself. Her darker self had been a defense after losing her brother and becoming estranged from her remaining family. She had worked hard to separate that sadistic person from the woman she had become. But now, hearing the merriment in her own voice as they tortured Cardax, she felt less like she was swimming in his suffering and more like it was threatening to drown her; she felt as though she was clawing for air toward a surface that grew further and further away as dark hands pulled her deeper into her own masochism.

  Struggling for breath, Keryn released the Oterian’s head and stumbled back until she was able to lean against the far wall. She felt the bile building in her throat, threatening to make her physically ill. Adam stopped, withdrawing the scalpel and standing straight, blood still dripping from his hand and the smuggler whimpering softly in his chair. He looked concerned, but Keryn wasn’t interested in his sympathy. She walked hastily from the room, fearful that speaking would betray her emotional turmoil.

  “Is everything okay?” Adam asked as she stormed past him.

  She stopped at the door, breathing deeply to control her shaking hands and quivering lips. “I’m fine,” she said quickly, wanting to be free of both the room and her thoughts. “Continue without me.”

  Stumbling out of the back room and through the living room, Keryn pushed open the front door and stepped onto the balcony of their second-story hotel room. The warm air washed over her and carried away her nervous tension. Closing her eyes, she turned her face toward the sun and let its heat melt into her bones. She heard the soft click of the door behind her, but didn’t turn.

  “Are you okay,” Penchant asked, his face now formed into that of a youthful Uligart, the sharp bones protruding from his cheeks and forehead. “You left in a hurry.”

  “I’m fine. It…” she paused, trying to find the right words to explain. “It got a little too intense in there for me. I just needed some fresh air and a change of scenery.”

  Penchant nodded in sympathy if not understanding. “After chasing him for so long and after all he did to us, I figured you would have wanted to be present for his… questioning.” He paused before the last phrase, wisely choosing an ambiguously descriptive word.

  Keryn sighed. “I thought I would have too, but my heart just isn’t in it. I would have felt better just putting a bullet in his brain. Shooting him is impersonal; I can do it from a distance without even seeing his eyes.” She turned toward him and leaned against the railing, motioning toward the inside of their hotel room. “This, though… I don’t know. It just seems brutal. It’s too intimate for my tastes. I’ll leave it all in Adam’s capable hands, and yours, if you feel so inclined. I can pull watch out here while you two do what you need to.”

  Penchant nodded again as though in understanding of her sentiments. His eyes, however, still reflected the same concern she had seen in Adam’s when she stormed out of the back room.

  Smiling softly, she laid a hand on Penchant’s arm. “I’m fine, I promise. Go back inside and do what you need to do. I’ll let you know if I need anything.”

  Turning, Penchant opened the front door and disappeared inside. She shivered as, for a second, Keryn swore she heard a muted scream.

  * * * * *

  High above the assault teams sadistic tortures, a single craft dropped out of heavy accelerations and found itself entering the Orthorius Galaxy. The ship had been pulling heavy gravities during its acceleration into the system. Had the ship been manned, any living creature inside would have been pulverized under the weight. But this ship wasn’t manned, which was essential for its purpose.

  The long-nosed craft, a design that would have normally harbored the flexible body of a Lithid pilot, began making minute adjustments to its trajectory. It bypassed the gas giant, which was on the far end of its elliptical orbit around the sun. It wove gracefully between the planet’s two moons. Set on its purpose, the ship maneuvered only enough to avoid obstructions, but otherwise remained on a straight course.

  The two cruisers in orbit around Othus immediately detected the ship, but their continued hails were subsequently ignored. The Dormark’s tactical officer called over the intercom, notifying the Captain that an unidentified ship had entered the system. The Captain, a tall and lanky Lithid wearing full military regalia, checked the reports of the craft’s activity, and then ordered the ship destroyed.

  Two rockets leapt from tubes on the starboard of the Dormark, the computer brains in each automatically adjusting the missiles’ burns toward an intercept with the unresponsive vessel. Once far enough from the ship, both rockets began an intense burn, accelerating at speeds that no living creature could hope to outrun.

  In response, the unidentified ship began a heavy acceleration of its own. Weaving in evasive patterns, the Lithid craft remained oriented toward its goal: the swollen sun of the Orthorius Galaxy. The two rockets continued to accelerate, quickly gaining on the evading ship.

  “Two minutes until detonation, sir,” the tactical officer
aboard the Dormark announced to the helm.

  The small vessel adjusted its trajectory once again in response to the gaining rockets, deviating from its course and entering a thin asteroid belt surrounding one of the nearby planets. The missiles, in pursuit, entered just over a minute behind. All three ships, all controlled by computers, maneuvered and danced through the asteroid, making millisecond corrections to speed and course that no living creature could have made.

  Halfway through the asteroid belt, the Lithid ship cut a sharp turn to the right, allowing its wing to clip a passing rock. Spinning chaotically, the asteroid tumbled toward the oncoming rockets, bouncing haphazardly from rock to rock, creating an avalanche of stones pirouetting toward the oncoming missiles. One of the two missiles, trapped as three asteroids tumbled toward it, was crushed under the colliding stones and detonated prematurely. The second rocket, avoiding the debris, adjusted course and continued pursuing the ship.

  The ship launched from the asteroid belt, making constant course adjustments due to its damaged wing. Its speed dropped as it tried to regain control of the slowly spinning craft. Alert sirens rang throughout the ship as the second rocket darted from the asteroids as well, now only a few thousand feet behind.

  “One rocket destroyed, sir, but the second rocket has gained on the ship,” the tactical officer of the Dormark cried out excitedly in the helm. “Detonation now in 15 seconds.”

  Ignoring its heavy spin, the craft launched itself toward the swollen sun, now dominating its frontal view screen. Turning, the rocket accelerated into massive gravities, quickly closing the distance between the two. The Lithid vessel pushed its engines as hard as they would burn, but with the damage to the wing it was unable to escape the deadly missile. The ship had not yet entered the atmosphere of the sun and had only begun to feel the gravitational pull of the sun’s field when the rocket struck. Exploding in a colorful burst of plasma and burning fuel cells, both ship and rocket disappeared from the tactical monitor on the helm of the Dormark.

  “Unidentified ship destroyed,” the officer announced with a smile.

  Above the sun, debris and shrapnel from the explosion got caught in the gravitational well of the swollen sun. Among the torn pieces of hull and destroyed engine casing, a single black canister fell into the sun’s orbit.

  CHAPTER 8:

  Yen awoke with a start as the intercom blared through the confines of his room. He heard the words echoing through the haze that clouded his mind, and jolts of pain reverberated through his head with every word spoken. Though he tried to sit up, he found the effort futile and collapsed back into bed, his head hurting worse than ever. With a slight smile, however, he realized the pain was from the alcohol the night before and not from the invasive psychic powers. His smile disappeared when the intercom sounded once more.

  “Squadron Commander Xiao,” it blared, causing aches that rolled from his temples into his teeth. “Your presence is requested immediately in the War Room by Captain Hodge. Please verify receipt of this request.”

  Yen yawned and brushed the hair out of his face in order to better wipe the sleep from his eyes. He fumbled, searching for the transponder on his nightstand, but only succeeded in knocking his alarm clock onto the floor. He heard the crackle of the intercom as he noticed the transponder resting absently on the floor, no doubt still sitting where it was dropped forgotten the night before.

  “Squadron Commander Xiao,” the announcement continued, funneling its request directly into his room. “Your presence is requested…”

  “I’m awake!” he roared, drowning out the intercom with his own angry yell. “Can’t you hear me, you asshole? I’m awake!” Reaching down, ignoring the lights that burst in front of his vision as he bent over, he grabbed the transponder and activated its signal.

  “I heard you the first three times!” he yelled into the microphone.

  “Many apologies,” the voice replied over the handheld receiver. “Captain Hodge requests you at the War Room for a strategic conference.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered to himself before pressing the send button. “Let her know that I will be there shortly.”

  He tossed the transponder across the room and threw his legs over the side of the bed. Though he wasn’t sure if he could keep down breakfast this morning, Yen’s belly still growled angrily as bile sloshed from side to side in his empty stomach. As much as he would have preferred a chance to eat, he was already running late. He didn’t want to be the reason all the other officers on board had to wait to start the meeting.

  He stripped out of the pajamas that his aides had clothed him in the night before and staggered, naked, to the shower. His yellow skin stood in stark contrast to the sterilized white tile of the bathroom as he entered. Turning on the water, he let the jets wash over his body. The spines on his back rose in response to the pleasure he felt as the hot water cascaded onto his tense shoulders and ran, dripping, from his long dark hair. Trying his best not to lose track of time while enjoying the shower, he pressed the knob to deactivate the water and grabbed a towel from the peg on the wall. Yen dried quickly and pulled on his dress uniform; its dark grey fabric signified that he was an officer of the Alliance Fleet while the rich purple piping along the shoulders and sleeves signified him as Squadron Commander.

  Exiting his room, Yen’s boots clicked loudly on the metal floors of the ship as he made his way to the lift. Stepping inside, he entered his command code and the doors slid shut before him. He felt a twisting in his stomach that he knew was a sickly combination of hunger and nerves, the latter being caused by him being late to the meeting. He dreaded confrontation with any of the senior officers, though there were only two that outranked him aboard: Captain Hodge and Eminent Merric, the tactical officer. Still, with his powers acting so unpredictably, even the smallest disagreement could quickly turn lethal. His fears subsided as the doors opened on the War Room. Though he was the last to arrive, many had still not taken their seats around the circular table that dominated the center of the room. Small clusters of officers – with their orange, yellow, and red piping signifying their ranks – stood around the numerous displays on the side walls, many of which showed the progress of the Alliance Fleet as it raced through the void of space.

  As Captain Hodge, her own captain’s piping a brilliant white, noticed Yen enter, she called the room to order and invited them all to take their seats. Yen made his way through the crowd and sat two seats down from the Captain; only Merric sitting closer to her due to his rank. The others spent little time with cordial salutations, instead focusing on the three dimensional map of the universe that floated above the center of the table.

  “Welcome, all of you,” Captain Hodge said, drawing their attention to her position at the table. “We are faced with a situation we were not expecting and have, therefore, not planned for accordingly. We are now pursuing the entire Terran Fleet through space in an attempt to destroy the last vestiges of Terran existence. However, we are also facing one of the biggest catastrophes in Alliance history as one after another of the suns in Alliance space are being blacked out by Terran deception. You all received data streams this morning informing you of the specifics, but all information at this time is fluid. I now invite Eminent Merric to fill you in on the details of what we know.”

  Taking her seat, Merric stood instead. Yen raised an eyebrow as he watched the other officers pouring through volumes of data on the screens before them, updating themselves on the attacks against the galaxies’ suns. He was sure he had received the information himself, but hadn’t bothered to check his files before staggering from his room this morning.

  “Thank you, Captain,” Merric began, his low voice carrying in the vaulted War Room. His fingers began flying across the keyboard before him; his actions reflected in movements among the floating diagram above the table. One after one, the representations of suns disappeared from the screen, replaced by silent black orbs. “To date, seventeen suns have been corrupted by the Terran assault.
A list of affected planets is on your display screens now. As you can see, we’re looking at approximately three point two trillion individuals now trapped on dying planets. These numbers are, as always, an estimation since it is unknown how many people escaped on ships once the suns were attacked.”

  One of the Warrants, the working class of officers on board the ship, on the far side of the table raised a hand. Yen recognized her as one of the weapons bay Warrants, responsible for the maintenance and operability of both the plasma rockets and rail guns. Her handsome face was framed by her Wyndgaart tattoos and her eyes were serious as she waited to be recognized.

  “Warrant Scyant,” Merric said, pointing at her position. Scyant rose to her feet and addressed the group.

  “Do we have any information yet on how to reverse the Deplitoxide affect on the suns?” she asked. Yen was impressed that she had done enough research since receiving the packet this morning to clearly identify the chemical being used from memory. Having asked her question, she took her seat again at the table.

  “Unfortunately we do not at this time,” Merric replied. “However, we are currently awaiting a response from High Council on our possible courses of action. Regardless, the destruction of the suns is not our primary concern. The Alliance Fleet is being sent solely to pursue and destroy the Terran Fleet before it is able to reach Arcendor.”

  His fingers flew across the keyboard as the map zoomed in on a specific sector of space, dominated by a multitude of red dots. “We have been receiving partial reports from freighters and commercial ships operating throughout Alliance territory. So far, we have tracked the Terran Fleet through four galaxies as they move toward Arcendor. From the estimates we have received, we believe…”