Purge of Prometheus

by Jon Messenger

  “Come out, you coward,” he yelled, tauntingly. “Take the bullet in your brain like a real woman! Or maybe you’d prefer it if I dug my knife into your chest? What’s that? No answer to my question? That’s a shame because now I have no choice but to carve off your flesh, one strip at a time! And don’t you worry one bit,” he continued through his melted mouth, “I’ll be coming after your Pilgrim boyfriend once I get done carving you up, you little bitch!”

  You need my help, the Voice said, its voice flat and calm.

  Keryn knew it was right, but was not willing to sacrifice her personality for its assistance. “If we do this,” she whispered, “we do it my way. I keep my personality and you keep yours, just like we have it now. I stay in control when we’re not in combat and, in return, I’ll let you take control when the fighting gets up close and personal.”

  Silence stretched in her mind, disconcertingly different from the noise erupting all around her. Keryn was beginning to fear that the Voice wouldn’t find her arrangement acceptable when it whispered a single word into her mind.

  Agreed, it said softly.

  Keryn’s body convulsed as the memories of twenty-two generations of warriors flooded her mind. The knowledge saturated her muscles, teaching in milliseconds techniques that had been carefully mastered over hundreds of years. Her body shook, her eyes fluttering, as the Voice downloaded all its knowledge into her body. After only a second, Keryn’s body stopped shaking and she sat perfectly still with her eyes closed. The two Terrans approached cautiously, hearing commotion but unable to see around the rock.

  As they neared, Keryn’s eyes flew open, her violet irises burning with power. Her left hand reached out and clutched a jagged shard of stone which had been torn free of the boulder under the gunfire. In her right, Keryn still held her pistol, its single round chambered. The Terrans stepped to the backside of the rock. The lead soldier’s hands flickered as he shared tactics with the one behind him. Nodding in agreement, they moved around the rock.

  “Now,” the Voice said through Keryn’s lips.

  Her legs tucked underneath her, Keryn launched from the ground. Her pistol swung around and a single shot was fired, shattering the rear soldier’s faceplate. The Terran’s head jerked back violently as he collapsed into the snow. Dropping the pistol, her now free hand flashed out and, closing on the rifle of the lead soldier and yanking the barrel skyward. The rounds flew harmlessly over her shoulder as she pulled the Terran closer, keeping his body in between her and the Terrans on the far shore. Ignoring the fire leaping from the barrel just inches away from her face, Keryn slammed the jagged rock up through the faceplate, smashing through the plastic and lodging the point of the stone into the flesh underneath the Terran’s chin. With the man chocking on his own blood and his arms falling limply to his side, Keryn twisted the impromptu knife, sliding the tip into the man’s brain. She spun the soldier, maintaining her Terran shield, and flipped the soldier’s rifle around in her hand until she clutched it firmly under her arm. Smiling wickedly, she began firing at the far shore.

  Her shots leapt into the air as she jerked the rifle back and forth along the shore. Though the Terrans had taken cover behind boulders of their own, her deadly accurate shots struck exposed limbs and tops of heads, the armor piercing rounds within the rifle tearing easily through their body armor. All along the far shore, cries of pain erupted and bodies fell limply to the ground. Standing in the middle of it all, intentionally unharmed, stood the Oterian screaming in rage.

  “Kill her, you cowards,” he bellowed. He ripped a weapon from a nearby Terran’s hand, pulling the soldier from behind his concealment. Before he had time to leap back for cover, a round caught him in the chest, blasting through the body armor and tumbling through his heart and lungs. He didn’t have time to scream before he collapsed onto the ground, dead. Cardax turned his stolen weapon on Keryn and took aim. Seeing him, she released the Terran body and dove back behind the boulder. Cardax’s fire slammed into the soldier’s chest and exited through his back; the body flailed under the gunfire before falling to the ground. The soldier’s head struck and floated on top of the buoyant river. Watching the body fall and remain suspended on top of the water, Keryn smiled at her own memory and experience with the water’s surface.

  Cardax stood alone on the far shore, the only Terran still alive and uninjured being the commander, who had hidden behind a nearby stone outcropping. “Come out and fight me like a real Wyndgaart,” Cardax taunted. “You’re a disgrace to your species!”

  “Cardax,” Keryn yelled in reply. “Catch!”

  Diving from behind the rock, Keryn pulled free her high explosive grenade and released the safety. She threw the grenade toward the stream, where it struck the tense surface and bounced, skipping like a stone. The river tension having increased in the cold, the grenade never broke the surface as she once had, bouncing all the way across before rolling to a stop at Cardax’s feet. He bellowed in rage moments before the entire far side of the stream was enveloped in a fireball. As the smoke began clearing on the far shore, Keryn stood up calmly from behind the rock, the Voice releasing her body back under her control.

  Smiling appreciatively, Keryn dusted off the snow and slung the Terran rifle over her shoulder. “Good work,” she said to the Voice.

  Thanks, it replied. Now let’s go home.

  CHAPTER 18:

  The Captain approached Yen as he stood at the entrance to the lift that would take them all to the bridge. A security team led by Horace flanked her. The security team carried a small arsenal and wore body armor, as though expecting a significant battle. Their stern looks were mirrored in Captain Hodge’s steely face, her own frustrations clearly displayed across her pale Avalon face. The group came to a halt in front of Yen, who snapped to attention in front of the Captain.

  “Squadron Commander,” Captain Hodge demanded, her voice betraying none of the anger reflected in her eyes, “look me in the eyes and tell me you are completely sure of this before we proceed.”

  Yen matched her look, hoping that his own determination and confidence showed in his resolve. He rubbed his sweaty palms on his pants as he spoke. “Captain, I am completely sure of the evidence.” Lowering his voice, he leaned closer to the Captain. “Ma’am, we’re doing the right thing, but we need to move while he suspects nothing.”

  Captain Hodge nodded, but her eyes still showed the maelstrom of indecision. After many seconds passed, she turned toward the security team. “We’re moving now. Remember, we need him taken alive. Fire only in self defense.”

  Horace led the way onto the lift, his massive, furry body taking up the back third of the spacious elevator. Yen and the Captain entered second, leaving the front of the lift open for the other three security members. By them being the last on the lift, they’d be the first off and immediately able to control the room. Entering the access code for the bridge, the lift doors slid shut. The steady scroll of passing floor numbers was the only indication that the lift was moving, though the tension became more palpable as the elevator neared their destination.

  As the indicator for the bridge finally lit, the doors slid open and the security team rushed into the room with weapons drawn. All three members yelled into the room as the Captain and Yen followed, their voices intermingling in contradicting commands meant to confuse their adversary. Confusion was already well established on the bridge as both Vangore and Tylgar were standing at their posts with their hands raised high. Though Tylgar’s Lithid featureless face was unreadable, Vangore clearly showed surprise. As Horace exited the elevator, his voice boomed over the others.

  “Magistrate Vangore,” Horace yelled into the room as the rest of the voices were silenced, “you are accused of conspiracy, murder, and, this being a time of war, high treason against the Alliance for the unlawful slaying of Eminent Merric, a superior officer. You are advised that you are not permitted to speak at this time, though you will be afforded the opportunity during interrogation. At this time, you w
ill surrender to the security forces and be taken immediately to the brig. Anything said will be construed as resisting arrest.”

  “What… wait, you’re making…” Vangore began. As he opened his mouth to speak, however, the three members of the security force grabbed him firmly by his tunic and threw him to the floor. He yelped as his arms were pinned behind him and manacles placed on his wrists.

  “I take it that means you did not understand your rights as I explained them,” Horace remarked as Vangore grunted in pain. The Oterian Security Officer turned to the Captain, awaiting further orders.

  “Take him to the brig,” she said softly, the fire gone from her voice.

  The security team pulled Vangore to his feet and drug him toward the lift. As he was taken away, he continued to protest.

  “Captain, I don’t understand,” he yelled before being struck with a neural stimulator. His body immediately went limp as nerve impulses were disrupted. Without another sound, Vangore was taken to the lift and the entire security team departed, leaving the Captain, Yen, Horace, and a very stunned Tylgar on the bridge.

  Captain Hodge spun on Yen, her passion returned. “Would you now please explain to me exactly why I just had my Communications Officer thrown in the brig?”

  “Ma’am,” Yen began. “After you conducted the inventory of my quarters, you ordered me to search my own areas followed by those once held by Eminent Merric. One of those areas included the bridge. I searched the physical locations thoroughly, but found no evidence of wrongdoing in any area checked.”

  Yen leaned on the Captain’s console, which had already been programmed to display the evidence Yen had found. “Though you hadn’t specified, I took the liberty of assuming that searching the areas once covered by Merric included the computer network maintained on this ship.”

  “And you found something condemning Vangore there?” Horace asked, his voice rumbling in the silent room.

  “Not at first, no,” Yen said. “At first, I found the same information that you had found previously. Merric had not used his access code after leaving the bridge the night previous. However, that explanation didn’t settle well with me. If he didn’t use his access code at all, that means he was murdered within either the halls or a common area, none of which are ever empty enough to pull off a horrific crime. I figured that a lack of access code was fairly damning evidence that someone had tampered with the system. Therefore, I spent some time digging through the lines of code within the computer. That’s when I found this.”

  Yen turned the Captain’s console so that the others could see. Merric’s name was lit in red, underneath which was his access code and a single location listed: Vangore’s personal quarters. “Merric did use his code the night he died,” Yen explained. “He used his code to enter Vangore’s quarters. This evidence was fairly well hidden within the ship’s files, as though someone had tried to erase the evidence. However, I believe that the quick revelation that Merric was missing left Vangore little time to do an efficient job of hiding his crime.”

  “Then how did you know to send Horace and his men to the engine room?” the Captain asked.

  Yen nodded, knowingly. “After I suspected Vangore, who could have easily altered the computer program from his console on the bridge, I followed his access code following Merric’s visit. The only place Vangore’s code was used was in the engine room to disable the fail safes protecting the engine exhausted port and again when he reentered his quarters about fifteen minutes later. Did you find something in the engine room?”

  “Organic residue, unlike any plasma byproducts created by the engine,” Horace answered.

  “And you believe…” Yen asked, leaving the question hanging.

  “It could potentially be organic remains from a body destroyed in the engine exhaust,” Horace finished. “The medical bay is conducting an analysis as we speak.”

  Captain Hodge pushed the console out of her way before collapsing into the helm, her wings folded tightly against her body. She raised her hand and ran it absently through her hair, lost in thought.

  “Vangore killed Merric?” a disembodied voice asked from the other side of the room from where the three stood. All turned to see Tylgar still standing awe-struck behind the navigator console.

  “Sit down and monitor navigations,” Captain Hodge yelled at the Lithid, who immediately disappeared behind his console and busied himself with unimportant work. “I don’t need to remind you that should word of this spread before I make an official announcement to the crew, you’ll be sharing a cell with him. Am I understood, Magistrate?”

  “Ma’am, yes ma’am,” Tylgar replied hastily without turning away from his console.

  Captain Hodge turned her attention back to Yen. “I just don’t understand why he would do this. It just doesn’t make any sense. Everyone has had their disagreements on board, but no one under my command would resort to murder.”

  Yen shrugged. “I can’t hope to speak on Vangore’s behalf, ma’am,” he replied. “Only one man knows why he committed murder, and he is currently being escorted to the brig. However, ma’am, with your leave I would like to accompany Prestige Horace to the brig and be present for the interrogation.”

  Captain Hodge looked up, perplexed. “Why?” she asked. “Why would you want or need to be present for his interrogation?”

  Yen leaned forward until he was mere inches away from the Captain. “Ma’am, believe me when I tell you that I have no morbid fascination in watching someone be… encouraged to tell their secrets. However, we need to face a horrible truth. Eminent Merric is dead, which leaves me as both the Squadron Commander and your Tactical Officer, making me the second in command of the Revolution. Whether we like it or not, it is now both my duty and responsibility to ensure discipline is maintained on board. If we can find out what happened to make Vangore cross the line and commit murder, hopefully we can ensure it never happens again.”

  Looking tired, the Captain nodded in agreement. “Fine, go with Horace and be present for the interrogation.” She turned toward the Oterian. “Use any means necessary to get answers. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Crystal,” Horace rumbled through clenched teeth. As he turned to leave, Yen fell into step behind him. Neither spoke as the entered the lift, waiting instead for the doors to slide shut behind them.

  “That was fairly impressive detective work,” Horace growled condescendingly. “It’s surprising for someone with no forensic background.”

  Yen didn’t bother turning toward the Security Officer, instead maintaining his focus on the floor numbers rolling by as the lift descended. “I don’t know what to tell you, Horace. I guess I got lucky by following my hunch.”

  “Detectives only use hunches in old vids and story reels,” Horace snorted. “Anyone now and days that tells you they just followed a hunch is covering their own shoddy evidence collection. You wouldn’t be trying to hide something, would you Squadron Commander?”

  “Maybe you wouldn’t be so upset if you didn’t have someone else doing your job better,” Yen snarled, the anger flashing through his body. As he turned toward the Oterian, the lift doors opened and Horace stepped off the lift. Yen let the anger subside as he followed.

  “No offense, Commander, but I don’t believe you.”

  “Then let’s just see what the prisoner has to say under interrogation,” Yen replied. “I can guarantee he’ll tell a pretty interesting story when questioned.”

  CHAPTER 19:

  Her hopes had been simple: after passing through the small sewer tunnel once and pulling free most of the grime from the pipe walls, let there be nothing left for her second pass. She learned long ago that her hopes very rarely ever came to fruition. Wading through the frigid pool of water, she frowned at the disgusting smell that permeated her body and the filth that, quite literally, fell from her hair and skin. Either she hadn’t knocked free nearly as much from the walls of the tunnel as she would have liked, or the Terrans had devilishly snuck in afte
r she escaped the city and reapplied the fermented bodily wastes. Based on her sour mood, Keryn was prone to believe the latter. Exiting the pool and making her way down the straight tunnel, it wasn’t long until she located the ladder that would return her to the surface, and back into harm’s way.

  Keryn slipped out from the sewer entrance and back under the cover of the stone slab, scanning the rubble field with her stolen Terran rifle. She was far from excited about being back in Miller’s Glen, and was even unhappier about the idea of telling the others of the fate of the Cair Ilmun and the rest of the crew. They had put a lot of faith in her plan of escape, even if it had taken a while to convince them of its merits. Unfortunately, no one had believed in her plan more than she had. It had been a severe emotional blow to find the wreckage, a pain that was only slightly alleviated by killing Cardax for the second time. Now there was no avoiding the simple fact that they would have to find another way out of the city. However, she was getting ahead of herself. Until she made it back across the clearing in one piece and back into the relative safety of the still-standing sections of town, her worries were moot.

  Taking a deep breath, Keryn bolted from the safety of the sewer entrance and sprinted across the open ground, sliding for cover behind a crumbling wall. She waited, her breath labored as nervous energy flooded her body, but she saw no scanning lasers and heard no gunfire. Perplexed, she peeked over the wall. The watchtowers were quiet, their spotlights rolling lazily across the ruins. No Terrans sounded the alarm and no turrets tracked her position. After a while with no threat appearing, she stood and started a slower, if not nervous, march across the rubble field. Much to her surprise, nothing happened.

  The rest of her careful walk through town was as uneventful as her dash through the ruins. She began growing nervous, firmly believing that anyone who said “no news is good news” was an idiot. Keryn expected to be shot at. She expected to be chased through the streets with Terrans in hot pursuit. She expected to escape with the pits of hell opening behind her and consuming the world as she ran. That’s the way it had always been. Quiet made her worried.