Merillian: 2 (Locus Origin)

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Merillian: 2 (Locus Origin) Page 33

by Christian Matari


  “Lab geeks,” Taylor grinned. “I like those odds a lot better than storming that fortress.”

  “Let’s hope the Ape thought so as well,” Captain Mitchell sighed as he ushered them down the steps to the tram.

  * * * * *

  Hanan Aru had followed the large one to the security station, witnessing his fury as he single-handedly vanquished any that dared stand in his path. He was magnificent, a worthy opponent.

  As soon as he had left, Hanan Aru adjusted his sensors to scan for energy signatures. Glowing blue lines began to appear on his augmented vision, lining the walls, floor and ceiling. A line running through the floor glowed brighter than the others, disappearing all the way out into the corridor behind him.

  He smiled under his visor, flicking his wrists and opening his palms, thrusting them out to his sides. Thin strands of energy began to leap out from the broken consoles, dangling cables, wall sockets, and even from under the metal grating on the floor, all of them arching towards him. He raised his face to the ceiling, his whole body trembling as he absorbed the energy, the glowing strands filling the chamber with an eerily blue light.

  When he had had his fill, the room fell dark once more, the lights in the ceiling still flickering. Hanan Aru looked again at the surrounding carnage, pondering which course to take. The valor of the big Terran was impressive, even more so than his stupidity. After a moment’s consideration, he ran after the berserk soldier, down the tube connecting the security station to Kesha Kun’s palace.

  Chapter 47

  Jago ground his teeth. His path veered to the left, its smooth, curving walls lined with faintly-illuminated panels at regular intervals. An unfortunate group of four guards emerged from one of the many side passageways. A split second later they’d disappeared in a mist of blood and fragments of bone.

  The passage came to an abrupt end, and Jago soon found himself in a small, dimly-lit foyer. A pair of staircases soared upwards, continuing up for at least a dozen flights, occasional cross-platforms disappearing into the walls on higher levels. As he craned his neck back to see up, a sudden muddled pain shot through his hip.

  He barely glimpsed down at the wound before turning to locate its source, a pair of armed Sheshen kneeling on the far staircase, each of them wielding a carbine-like weapon and firing bolts of golden energy in his direction.

  “Hah,” he snarled. “Come on, you shit cunts!”

  He raised his fearsome machinegun and squeezed the trigger with enough force to break a man’s finger.

  “Eat this, you shit fuckers!” he roared, swiveling his entire body to shower the staircase with lead.

  Aiming was far from his strong suit, but with such a high cyclic rate it hardly mattered. One of the guards was hit square in the chest and flew off the stairs, his mangled body crashing limp to the floor below with a gaping hole in his chest. The other ducked, crawling up to the next floor to avoid Jago’s fearsome attack.

  The commotion had attracted more Sheshen from neighboring rooms and corridors, and Jago soon found himself outmatched as guard after guard came pouring in. His weapon devoured the ammunition in its huge drum, spitting out round after round, tearing through walls and targets alike. With all the debris, Jago couldn’t tell how many he’d hit, not that he particularly cared as long as there were more to fight.

  He growled, noticing a sudden movement to his left. He spun to face it, the trigger of his Viking still depressed. The sequential clicking of the hammer alerted him that he was out of ammo just as a bolt of energy singed his shoulder, another slamming into his chestplate a second later. Fortunately his armor took the brunt of the damage.

  Jago was undeterred, throwing himself at the nearest foe and ramming the butt of his weapon into his mask. He felt the snap as the Sheshen’s neck broke, his head hanging back at an awkward angle as he slumped to the floor.

  Almost instantly, Jago took a hit to the lower back, one which sent him crashing to his knees, reeling in pain. With a roar of defiance he staggered back to his feet, turning to face the foyer, where more guards than he could count were closing in on him. With Jago gravely wounded, they were fast gaining confidence and pushing in to surround him.

  “Where’s the rest of you?” Jago spat, just as his trembling body was blasted again and again by searing bolts of golden energy. “Yeah? Well… I’m prettier!” he mumbled as he collapsed to the floor, twitching briefly before succumbing to his wounds.

  * * * * *

  The tram was a five-meter long and three-meter wide platform of extruded steel, running on magnetic rails. At each end of the cart stood curved railings, painted a bright yellow and coated with a rubbery substance for grip. A control panel atop a small console protruding from the center of the platform was the only visible means of control.

  “Serena?” Marcus prompted, seeking her guidance with the lettering.

  Taz was already at the front, peering down the hollow tunnel, carved into the rock beneath the surface of Nos Shana. A chill breeze stirred the black banners hanging eerily over the stairs leading up to the circular security station, each pennant emblazoned with a red three-pronged star, the symbol of the Dark Sun Empire. The only source of light in the tunnel was a handful of illuminated panels set into the ceiling, widely spaced down its length, creating pools of near total darkness along its path.

  “I don’t like this,” Reid murmured. “We’re sitting ducks. If there’s resistance at the other end, we’re as good as dead.”

  “Then let’s hope our aim is better than theirs,” Mitchell retorted.

  “I have confidence in our aim, it’s our numbers I’m worried about,” Reid replied, adjusting the heavy scope on his rifle and laying it to rest over the front railing.

  He knelt in front of it, touching his forehead, his stomach and each side of his chest in turn as he said a silent prayer.

  “Ape,” Captain Mitchell called over the comms, hoping for a reply. “Are you there? Ape?”

  Taylor lowered his gaze, fearing the worst, when no response came. Mitchell tried as best he could to focus his senses in hopes of making contact with the behemoth’s irrational mind, but Jago was nowhere to be found.

  “It was only a matter of time before something like this happened,” the captain let out. “I suppose he was always destined to meet with a violent end.”

  Reid lowered his gaze, knowing full well that the captain spoke the truth, no matter how much he wished he could deny it.

  “I think I’ve got it,” Serena proclaimed, pressing one of the buttons on the console.

  The tram sprang to life with a high-pitched hum, slowly gaining momentum as it accelerated down the tunnel. The rough stone walls whizzed by. The rapid switches between light and darkness were hypnotic to watch, and made it hard to focus.

  “Serena, get behind me,” Marcus ordered, raising his weapon in anticipation of what lay in wait. “We don’t know how long this tunnel is.”

  “Get ready,” Captain Mitchell barked as the tram began slowing down, the tension increasing palpably.

  Marcus could feel beads of sweat forming on his brow. A sliver of light appeared on the horizon as the tunnel veered slightly to the left. Without a word of warning, Reid began firing his rifle. Although they were too far out for the others to see what he was shooting at, his sudden actions spelled the certainty of combat up ahead.

  “Contact!” he yelled.

  He managed another shot before the three remaining guards on the approaching platform came into view of the others. The tram was met with a brilliant display of golden laser fire, most of which impacted on the rocky walls of the tunnel. A few bursts hit closer to home, bouncing off the base of the tram.

  “Open fire!” Captain Mitchell bellowed over the fray.

  Taz let loose a storm of bullets, with Marcus and Taylor quickly joining in, adding their volleys to his. Two of the guards quickly fell face forward onto the rails, resulting in small explosions of electrical energy as their black armor made contact with the hi
ghly charged metal tracks.

  The remaining Sheshen suddenly became very aware that he was all alone against a superior force, and jumped behind a nearby pillar for cover. The tram was less than forty meters from the platform, seconds away from docking. Reid didn’t dare take his eye off the scope, training his rifle on the pillar, swiveling quickly as they approached the station.

  “Fuck this,” Captain Mitchell yelled, grabbing a grenade from his belt, pulling the pin and tossing it between the pillars as the tram slid to a halt next to the platform. “Fire in the hole!”

  The resulting explosion threw the tattered remains of the remaining guard several meters to the side, slamming him into a nearby wall. The tram ground to a final halt, and immediately Taz jumped from the tram and ran to the unmarked pillar. Reid followed him while the others ducked off the tram, crouching carefully between the electrified rails, waiting for the all clear.

  After a moment, Taz waved them forward. Beyond the pillars lay a small antechamber with polished stone walls, a series of slanting metal beams protruding from the walls and digging into the stone floor. To their left, a niche in the room’s broad wall harbored the only exit, a wide blast door with no visible means of access. Above the niche, a gleaming lens kept watch like an evil eye, a glowing red light in its center.

  Marcus felt a slight vibration, as if they were near an intense source of energy, the deep hum filling him with a sense of looming dread.

  “How do we get through?” Serena asked, concerned.

  “There has to be a way,” Reid insisted.

  “I don’t think there is. Not from this side at least,” Marcus ventured. “I think whoever’s on the other side has the only means of controlling the door.”

  “Then we blow it up,” Taz proposed.

  “With what? All we have are grenades,” Captain Mitchell responded. “Maybe if that obnoxious Ape were here, his explosive flatulence could blow it apart?”

  He walked up to the door, staring up at the lens intently. After a short moment, he approached Marcus and pulled him off to the side.

  “What do you think, Grey?” he whispered. “I’ve seen you do some pretty amazing things. Do you think you can do something about that door?”

  Marcus didn’t know how to react. He’d never intentionally wielded his powers. He didn’t even know how.

  “I… I don’t know,” he stuttered. “I’m not really sure how it works.”

  “If Reid hadn’t stopped you at the foreman’s office, you’d probably have torn that whole building apart. I know what I saw,” the captain urged him, looking him straight in the eye. “I know you have it in you.”

  “Isn’t there another way?”

  “Taz’s imaginary high-yield explosives? No, Marcus. You’re all we have.”

  “But-” Marcus started to speak.

  “Just focus on how you felt then, when you found out they’d taken Raven, that feeling of despair. You were afraid for her. I could see it in your eyes,” the captain pressed.

  “No. That’s not what happened. It wasn’t fear,” Marcus confessed. “It… it was anger. I… I felt like I was losing control.”

  “Good,” was all that Mitchell said in response.

  “Good? What if you hadn’t been able to stop me? I could have killed you!” Marcus burst out.

  “But you didn’t.”

  “I can’t risk that again!” Marcus explained, looking over his shoulder at where Serena stood by one of the slanting beams.

  Captain Mitchell followed his gaze, sensing his distress.

  “She’ll be safe. You have my word. Just focus. Put yourself back in that time and place. Feel the rage burning inside you. Use it, harness it.”

  Marcus crossed to the huge metal door, and tried as best he could to follow the captain’s direction, but to no avail. His nerves got the better of him. He stood in front of the towering portal with one hand laid on its surface, his eyes closed, trying to imagine himself back in that dark place, witnessing Raven’s abduction.

  “It’s not working,” he sighed.

  “Maybe I can help,” Mitchell replied, coming to stand behind him.

  “What do you mean? How?”

  “Trust me. Focus on the door,” the captain instructed him. “It works best if you remove your helmet.”

  Marcus reluctantly unbuckled his chinstrap and placed his helmet on the ground beside him. He sighed briefly before laying his hand once more on the door, closing his eyes. Behind him, Mitchell stared intently at the back of his neck. As the reached out with his hand and laid it on the back of Marcus’ skull, it was as if he were entering into a trance.

  By now, the others had taken notice. It was an odd sight, seeing the two men standing there, motionless and so intently focused.

  “What are they doing?” Serena asked, turning from where she’d been peering anxiously back up the tunnel.

  “You’d best get behind one of those beams,” Reid said, suddenly realizing what Marcus and the captain were attempting to do.

  “Why? What’s-” Serena began.

  “Step back,” Reid insisted, grabbing her arm and leading her back behind the support beam furthest from the door.

  Taz and Taylor mirrored their actions at the far end of the chamber.

  Mitchell’s eyelids were quivering. The vein on his forehead popped out, pulsating. Probing someone’s mind to scan their thoughts was something he was very good at. Having done so often as a mole within the ranks of Division 6, it came naturally to him. Forcing someone to relive their moments of their past was much more arduous and painful, both for himself and the recipient. Even so, he was surprised how difficult he found it to work with Marcus. There were so many instances of pain for such a short life: memories from his training days, moments of love, loss and betrayal. The captain sifted through them all, each one adding its weight to Marcus’ suffering.

  Marcus was starting to think it wouldn’t work, when suddenly the images began flashing in his mind. He saw his old Sergeant shooting Corporal Dimitrov in the head; his fight with Steven in the docking bay of the Strom sensor outpost; the deaths of so many men, women and children in the Last Oasis; the traitor Adam Spielman on the bridge of the alien ship on New Io; and Raven’s abduction.

  Each display fueled his anger. He felt it building up inside him like a living being, a powerful entity swelling up inside him, taking long empowering breaths as it gained momentum. His hands started trembling with rage. He could feel every muscle in his body tensing. He tried to control it at first, fearful of the consequences if he allowed it to have its way, but as it gained strength he realized that he had to let go. It was the only way.

  The door itself started to shake, sending tremors through the walls and cracks through the stone floor. Serena cried out in fear, but Reid held her firmly in place, trying to reassure her that all would be well.

  As the last image entered Marcus’ mind, he gave in entirely. The furious beast inside him overpowered him, coursing through his body. With a deafening shriek, the blast door ripped apart as if it were nothing more than a sheet of paper.

  Before the shards of metal had even had time to hit the floor, Captain Mitchell had grabbed his sidearm and slammed the butt of it down on the back of Marcus’ skull.

  “You did good soldier. You did real good.”

  Chapter 48

  The Sheshen guards took turn kicking Jago in the gut, making sure that the raging beast was truly dead. Hanging from the underside of the staircase above, Hanan Aru observed. He found their fear amusing, having counted at least half a dozen lethal shots. The large one was dead. Though he should be backtracking to shadow the others, he felt compelled to offer a moment of silence to the brave one who had managed to intrigue him so.

  The guards were busy squabbling over who would be tasked with dragging away the body when Jago suddenly gasped for air. Startled, the guards jumped back, quickly turning their weapons back on the wheezing giant, yelling in panic. They were just about to fire off a point-bl
ank volley when their leader suddenly gave the signal to stop.

  The wounds on Jago’s back, visible through the cracks in what was left of his crude armor, were slowly sealing themselves. Remarkable, Hanan Aru mused. Biogenic regeneration was a rare gift, one usually mastered only by a focused mind after years of meditation. The sluggish oaf did certainly not seem the type.

  The senior guard was ecstatic, relaying his findings over his communication link. He ordered the prisoner bound hand and foot with clasps made from the strongest steel. Knowing full well the rumors on the streets of Sheijan, Hanan Aru knew exactly what lay in store for the foolish giant. Kesha Kun would have a new prize to add to his collection.

  * * * * *

  The secondary security station controlling the blast door had proven to be little more than a lone guard sitting in a cubicle of glass and polished steel, monitoring the feed from the antechamber. No doubt the Sheshen had long ago called for assistance. Captain Mitchell stood over the black-armored body and hoped that wherever the Ape had run off to, he was proving a more immediate threat to the security of the Dark Sun Empire than the rest of them.

  Taz and Reid split up as they stalked ahead to the base of a U-shaped intersection, each taking up position at the foot of one of the two parallel corridors stretching out from the tiny security station. Each corridor was lined with over a dozen doors on each side. Mitchell limped along after them as fast as he could, stopping at the intersection, hoping to see some sort of sign as to which way to proceed.

  “Reid, this way,” he gestured towards the corridor to the left.

  “How do you know?” Reid called as he ran to catch up with Taz and the captain.

  “The doors on that side have glass windows. When Marcus described his vision, he mentioned a plain steel door.”

  “Good thinking,” said Reid. “You probably shouldn’t have hit him though.”

 

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