by Joe Vasicek
Get out now.
His blood turned to ice, and his heart began to race the way it did before every battle—except this time, he wasn’t in his gunboat. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that the guards had abandoned the door.
“Sir?”
“Where did she go?” James asked, leaving the foyer for the main hall. “Where is she?”
“I-I don’t know, sir. Lars said she went for a bite to eat, but we haven’t heard from her since.”
“Get the Freedom Star ready for departure. I’ll find Sara and get her to the ship as quickly as I can.”
“Departure? But sir—”
The sound of gunfire and glass shattering cut him short. Instinctively, James dove behind a marble pillar as panicked screams filled the foyer.
It’s a massacre, James realized, his sweat turning cold. Bullets raked the walls and furnishings, cutting people to the floor all around him.
Everyone at the conference was going to die.
Chapter 8
Kyla palmed open the door to her quarters and poked her head out. To her surprise, the corridor was empty. Tentatively, she stepped out and walked as quickly and quietly as she could toward the airlock.
Her heart beat a little faster as she contemplated her next step. In order to get off the ship, she had to open the airlock, but that was only possible on the bridge. Barring that, the only way was to sneak out with the next group of people to leave. Both ways were tricky, but since everyone on the ship already knew her by sight, she doubted they’d let her sneak off with them.
But the bridge—how was she supposed to unlock the door from there? She doubted the captain wanted her anywhere near that place, and even if Kyla did manage to sneak in, she had no idea what to do from there.
It’s okay, she told herself. You have time. It might take her a while to scope things out, but they wouldn’t be headed back to the Colony for a few days. She’d figure out how to sneak off before then. After all, she’d come this far, hadn’t she?
She came to the end of the corridor and climbed a narrow set of stairs up to the deck above. The corridor looked identical, but it had a pair of narrow windows running along the top corner on both sides. Through them, she could see the gray outer hull of the station, along with the shining surface of the world below. It was a bright reddish brown, with swirling clouds and sharp landforms. The view was enough to mesmerize her, but she forced herself to focus on the task at hand.
After following the corridor all the way to the other end of the ship, she came to a door labeled BRIDGE. It was shut, though by pressing her ear against it, she could hear the faint sound of people talking on the other side. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but she thought she heard the soldier who was supposed to be watching her.
So much for that plan. She rose to her feet, but before she could get back down to the lower deck, the door hissed open, making her jump.
“Oh, hi there,” said Sterling. “What are you up to?”
“Uh, nothing,” said Kyla. “I just wanted to come out and—”
“Where the hell is Sara?” asked the captain, barging into the corridor. “Is she on board? She isn’t answering any of her calls.”
“I don’t know,” said the soldier. “I didn’t see her come in.” He seemed torn between running after the captain and staying with Kyla.
“Well, you’d better make sure the lieutenant gets back here, because as soon as she’s back on board, we’re getting out of here.”
“Wait! You can’t just leave him behind!”
“If the Hameji are on the move, we sure as hell can’t wait for him.” The captain reached the nearest stairwell and ran down it. “Just make sure he gets here as soon as he can!” she called out as she left.
Kyla’s stomach fell, and the blood drained from her cheeks. “What’s going on? Are we leaving already?”
The soldier nodded, his face white. “The Hameji just stormed the conference hall. They’re shooting everyone on sight. If they come after us…”
As his voice trailed off, the elevator midway down the corridor opened up and several people spilled out. Kyla only recognized one of them: Lars Stewart, one of the chief diplomats from the Colony.
“I’m so sorry, so sorry,” he was babbling to the others. “I never thought it would come to this. Please, take care of yourselves.”
“We will,” said one of the men. “And God-willing we will meet again to continue this important work.”
“I do sincerely hope so,” said Lars. They reached a large set of doors and stopped. “Sterling! Can you open the airlock?”
“Sure,” said the soldier. He entered a code into the access panel on the wall, and the door hissed open.
There went my chance to get off the ship, Kyla realized. Though from the sound of things, that didn’t seem like such a good idea anymore.
“What’s the plan?” Lars asked, hurrying over to them. “How long before we leave?”
“Until Sara gets back, I guess,” said Sterling. “The jump drives are charged, and the engines are warming up. Are all your people back on board?”
“All of them except Sara. What about James?”
“He’s in the conference hall.”
Lars ran his hand through his head and swore. “What’s going on in there? Is he going to make it?”
“I don’t know. We heard a bunch of gunfire, and then he cut off.”
“Stars of Earth!”
Kyla’s legs went weak. Maybe it was better to stay on the ship, even if that meant going back to the Colony.
“In any case,” said Sterling, “we should probably get everyone to their quarters to prepare for departure. That includes you, Kyla. Things could get rough.”
“Yeah,” she said softly. “I guess so.”
* * * * *
Sara, James thought to himself, his adrenaline surging as screams filled his ears. I need to find her and get her out of here.
A group of delegates ran past him, only to be mowed down. Their blood splattered across the pristine carpet as they fell on their faces, arms and legs splayed clumsily outward. James waited for a lull in the shooting and made a mad dash for the con suite, just off the main hallway. The sound of gunfire and ricocheting bullets filled his ears, but he dove for the doorway and rolled through, taking cover around the corner.
Several employees were huddled beneath a nearby table, cowering in fear. Panting for breath, James looked hastily around for an escape. The ventilation shaft above them was too small to crawl through. On the other side of the room, however, he saw a conveyor belt and window that led into the kitchen.
He sprinted as fast as he could, reaching the belt just as booted footsteps sounded behind him. The employees screamed as the soldiers made quick work of them, but the distraction gave James just enough time to vault over the counter to cover. He fell to the floor with his back to the wall, pausing for a moment to get his breath before scrambling away.
The kitchen was full of sharp tools and heavy pans, but few good hiding places. Knowing that the soldiers would soon find a way in, he crept to the other side of the room, keeping low against the food prep counter.
There’s got to be a way out of here, he thought to himself. Sure enough, on the other side, a door led to the receiving area. Thinking fast, he palmed the access panel and dove for the nearest counter. As the door hissed open, he crawled underneath it, pulling his legs tight against his body with his back against the siding.
Heavy footsteps sounded on the hard floor tiles. Three Hameji soldiers ran past his hiding place without stopping. James’s heart pounded in his chest, but he waited until they were gone before scrambling from his hiding spot and running back into the con suite.
The scene before him was horrible. The employees lay dead and dying in pools of their own blood, some of them crying like helpless children. A pang of guilt struck him—after all, he was the one who had led the soldiers here—but he put it aside. No time to think about that now.
After going a short distance, he activated a flashlight on his wrist console and keyed in the sequence for another encrypted call, hoping the walls were thick enough to keep the Hameji from overhearing.
“Sterling? Sterling, are you there?”
“Captain? What’s going on? We heard gunfire and—”
“Never mind that now, we haven’t got time. Is the Freedom Star ready to depart?”
“Y-yes, sir, we’re ready. Do you have Sara?”
“Negative,” said James. “I’m going to get her now.”
“You’d better come fast, sir. The captain is getting ready to take off.”
“Tell her to wait. I have a way back to the ship, but I want to find Sara first and bring her back if I can.” I’m not going to leave her behind.
“Right, sir. We’re waiting for you.”
He stopped in the narrow space long enough to disconnect and put a call through to Sara. The sound of gunfire echoed through the bulkheads, but if he hurried, he might be able to—
ERROR IN CONNECTION, the screen read. James frowned.
He tried to put the call through again, but got the same error message. Were the Hameji blocking the network? That didn’t make sense—he’d been able to get through to Sterling just fine. The only other reason he could think of was that Sara had turned off her wrist console.
That, or she was already dead.
“Come on,” James muttered, trying again to place the call. When the error message popped up a third time, he slammed his fist against the bulkhead and swore. His arms and legs trembled in anger, mostly at himself for not being able to get to her in time. As much as he wanted to save her, he couldn’t afford to search the whole station. Every minute the Freedom Star waited for him was a minute that he was putting everyone else in danger. For the sake of the others, he had to abandon Sara and get back to the ship.
Up ahead, the passageway merged into a slightly larger one, just large enough to stand in. James rose to his feet and picked up the pace. After several minutes, he came to a chute that let down from a loading chamber. The place was eerily quiet, as if the dock workers had abandoned it. Fortunately, the loading chamber had access to a service corridor that ran all along the main terminal right to where the Freedom Star was docked.
He brought up a map of the spaceport on his wrist console and used it to guide him down the right service corridor to the ship. He was taking a tremendous risk, since the Hameji could theoretically locate him through the network, but speed was more important than stealth right then.
Stars, what he would give for a gun! Unarmed, he felt lost and naked—completely defenseless. In his mind, he knew it didn’t make much of a difference—a handgun would hardly give him a fighting chance against a squad of elite shock troops—but that didn’t make it any better.
At last, he reached the correct gate. The airlock was on the deck directly above him. A ladder ran up to that deck from the service corridor, while a number of refueling hoses connected with the ship through the hull. The hatchway was open, which meant that any noise he made would carry through the terminal.
He huddled in the corner and typed out a message to Sterling, fingers racing over the keypad.
BELOW AIRLOCK—IS THE WAY CLEAR?
Several moments passed, the eerie silence of the empty corridor marked only by the pounding of his heart. He kept to the shadows and did his best to stay calm.
As he waited for an answer, footsteps sounded over his head, as well as voices. The Freedom Star’s engines were already starting to rumble—they made a distant humming noise through the bulkheads, making it difficult to make out the conversation. Sweat trickled down the side of his face, but he was listening too intently to wipe it away.
The vibration of his wrist console made him jump. He held his breath and glanced down at the screen.
NOT CLEAR—FOUR GUARDS.
At that moment, he heard a gasp, then a scream.
It was Sara.
Time froze, and he became hyper-aware of everything around him—the beating of his heart, the sweat clinging to his shirt, the twelve rungs of the ladder leading up through the open hatchway above. Without thinking, he sprinted up the ladder. As he cleared the hatchway and leaped to the floor, it seemed as if he were moving in slow motion, toward the four men standing with their backs to him.
James pounced on the nearest one. Every muscle in his body focused on the assault, moving with near perfect efficiency. He took hold of the man’s head and twisted it quickly around, and the guard’s body tensed for a very brief moment before going suddenly limp.
The two nearest guards spun around, guns already in their hands. James crouched, using the first guard’s body as a shield while he drew the man’s gun. Five shots hit the body: two on the chest, three in the stomach. Three others screamed past James’s ear, striking the wall as he returned fire.
His first shot took the nearest guard in the thigh; his second in the chest, his third in the face. The man’s arms flung upward as his body fell spinning to the floor. His next shot hit the other guard in the groin; he collapsed to his knees as another shot hit him in the neck. Blood boiled from the wound, and he fell forward onto his face.
Before his head struck the ground, James aimed the gun at the last guard, almost twenty yards away. The guard had been running toward Sara, but at the sound of the gunshots he had stopped and turned to see what was going on. His eyes widened as he realized, too late, that he was a dead man. James took him down with one clean shot in the forehead.
As quickly as it had begun, it was over. James slowly lowered the gun, fingers tingling as the adrenaline rush slowly died away. At his feet, blood from the second guard began to spread across the floor.
“J-James? Are you…”
James turned and gasped. Sara stood in the corridor, next to a strange man dressed in dark olive-green fatigues. In the darkness, it was impossible to make out his face, but he was short and had a round face, not unlike many of the Hameji.
James raised his gun, but Sara motioned for him to stop. In that moment, the mysterious figured melted into the shadows and disappeared.
“Who the hell was that?”
“Never mind,” said Sara. “We’ve got to get out of here!”
As if to confirm this, the airlock door hissed open. James blinked, then ran with Sara through the doorway and onto the Freedom Star.
* * * * *
Sara barely had time to register what was happening. Four dead bodies were bleeding out in the terminal outside the airlock—bodies of men that James had killed before her eyes. But that wasn’t important now. What was important was that they get away from the station. Fast.
“Sara!” Jarvis exclaimed, greeting her and James on the other side of the airlock. “When we heard about the massacre, we feared the—”
“There’s no time for that, Captain,” said James. “The Hameji sent a squad out to kill us, and they’re bound to send more. Are the jump drives charged?”
“Yes, but—a squad? Where are they?”
“They’re dead,” said Sara. “The lieutenant… he killed them.”
Jarvis’s eyes went wide, but James was already running down the corridor. “Sterling!” he shouted. “Sterling, get to the bridge!”
“What is he doing?” asked Captain Jarvis, frowning. Sara said nothing, but ran after him.
They followed him onto the bridge, where he was already addressing the crew. “Who’s the pilot around here?” he asked. When the pilot raised his hand, he motioned for him to give up his seat. To Sara’s surprise, he actually did.
“Wh
at are you doing?” Jarvis asked. A frown crossed her face, and her cheeks began to turn red.
“I’m taking temporary command of this ship,” said James, sliding naturally into the pilot’s chair. “Since the Hameji have massacred the conference, it’s safe to assume that they’ve got combat ships waiting to intercept anyone who tries to leave. Sterling!”
Ensign Jones shouldered his way past Sara and Jarvis onto the bridge. “Lieutenant,” he said, giving James a quick salute. “What are we doing?”
“Get in the astrogator’s chair.”
“Right, Lieuten—I mean, Captain.”
“Now just hold on a minute,” said Jarvis, her fists clenched and her cheeks positively crimson. “This is my ship, not some Defense Corps gunboat. If you think you can just—”
“If you feel that I’ve overstepped my authority, you’re free to bring that up with my superiors when we get back to the Colony. Detaching from station in three, two…”
“Why, I—”
The floor lurched, cutting Jarvis off. Sara reeled and caught herself on the wall as the view out the forward window began to spin. Her stomach turned, and she drew in a sharp breath.
“Sterling, the dampers!”
“Right, sir—sorry!”
Gutsy, Sara thought as she recovered her balance. Captain Jarvis was so furious, she looked as if her veins were about to burst, but James ignored her as casually as he would a fly on the wall. Here at the helm, he was completely in his element. Every movement was smooth, every glance purposeful. There was no hesitation in him, nor any room for doubt. Like some sort of starbound juggernaut, nothing in the universe could stand in his way.
“Let him go, Captain,” she said, touching Jarvis’s arm. “He’s right.”
Captain Jarvis opened her mouth as if to protest, but Sara gave her a sharp look that carried the weight of her father’s authority behind it. Whatever you do now, my father will hear of it—and he’ll hear about it from me first.