by P. C. Haring
Cody had been right when he had said it was selfish of him to have brought her aboard like this. She had been right in telling him that she would have been here anyways. He was the right man for the job. With him in command, there would be a chance at peace. There would be a solution to this puzzle. Cody would find it and do so without sending needless casualties to her medical wards. He would find a way to protect her, the family they would one day have, this ship, and the Alliance as a whole. Of this she had no doubt.
Yet, it brought little comfort. There were far too many paths to failure and its dire consequences. No wonder she couldn’t sleep. With the prospect of the end of the world looming on the horizon, who could?
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
November 5, 2832
01:00
Mjöllnir - OpCom
CODY AMADO RUBBED HIS TIRED, bleary eyes. Even though he had tried to catch some sleep, it did not feel as though he had caught more than a couple of minutes, tops. His mind raced, overflowing with disparate unfocused thoughts. Nira’s own restlessness had not helped and while he had done his best to ignore it, she seemed more unsettled than he had seen her in a very long time. Fortunately, she had been out cold when he had gotten up to shower and he had no problem with leaving her to sleep soundly in their bed. He shuffled to his duty station, his head still foggy and unfocused. They were approaching the Remali convoy and while there was no immediate need for a physician, his presence would be required.
Perhaps it was the presence of his behemoth battleship that the Remali hoped to capitalize on; provide a clearly overpowered ship to combat a minimal threat and show a sign of sincerity. Make that ship an alien vessel, and really scare the piss out of them. But that would not help the next time, when whatever pirate forces ramped up their attack group into something sufficient to take on the Mjöllnir or even the Valor.
He put the thought out of his mind. The potential fall out to the Remali were not his concern. The use of the Mjöllnir had been a mere convenience as the General was needed elsewhere, and by the time another convoy was due to Surahan station, Cody intended to be long gone. Despite his public arguments over the humanitarian needs, he was more than a bit surprised the Remali had asked him in the first place. For as reclusive as the Remali were, they seemed more than eager to entrust this favor to him. Perhaps Cassie was correct after all and this whole thing was a set up. He had dismissed those concerns at first, but now, as he entered OpCom, an exhausted commander of a lone ship sent out to deep space to try and rendezvous with an alien convoy, he wondered if Cassie wasn’t so off the mark herself. Had trusting Rashar been a mistake?
Cassie’s motives might have been genuine, but the way she pursued them lacked in both subtlety and tact. She approached everything as a confrontation, which would immediately put him on the defensive and only strengthen his resolve in his own course of action. At least this time she had saved the argument for a private conversation. That was an improvement, and he would take any small progress with her that he could get.
“One minute to sensor range, sir.”
The announcement from his watch officer stirred him, forcing him back to the moment at hand.
“Very well,” he acknowledged. “Set condition three throughout and prepare for intercept.
The alert klaxons sounded in response to his orders soon followed by the watch officer ordering all sections to set condition three. So much for letting Nira and the others sleep.
“Transmit alert signal. The last thing I need is to have all of them scattering when this unidentified ship arrives.”
He received no direct response, nor did he expect one, and the next few moments passed in relative silence before the first reports came in.
“Captain, I think we have a problem.”
Cody held his place, allowing Cassie to respond. For her part, she picked up on his cue as if it had been rehearsed.
“Show me.”
Cassie crossed to confer with the officer. He held his place, focused on the display in front of him, but heard their conversation from a distance, focusing on the key elements. The convoy had been detected, out of position and unresponsive. The distress call no longer transmitted and there were neither power signatures nor life signs coming from any of the ships. The conversation fell too quiet for Amado to hear it, but he held his place. A moment or two later, the holographic resolved and appeared on in the central display. The Captain took one look at it, and knew they had arrived too late.
November 5, 2832
02:00
Dropship Rescue 1
“MOVE OUT!”
Schrider stayed in place as Marcus Foster pressed the butt of his rifle into his shoulder and led his team off the Alliance transport and onto the freighter’s deck. Those had been the instructions. Colonel Foster’s ‘fire team’ would secure the bay and then Schrider, rather Schrider’s host body, would be permitted to move. Had that fool only known to whom he was speaking, and what Schrider could do.
“Clear!”
Echoes of the same resounded through the hangar bay. That was the cue Schrider had been waiting for. Schrider had been given a sidearm, a clunky excuse for a weapon and as the host’s legs propelled them forward, Schrider bade the arms to raise and bring the weapon up as expected. With the illumination as poor as it was, Schrider needed the illumination from the light that had been affixed to the weapon in order to see through the host’s eyes. Ahead, the team consolidated and moved onto the main deck, leaving a pair behind to maintain security at the transport. Leading the team still, Colonel Foster swept into the corridor. Unlike the near pitch black of the hangar, this hallway remained illuminated just enough to make out the ravaged decking, fallen supports, and debris obstructing the path. Schrider took care to place steps deliberately. This close to them, Schrider could hear their voices waking up, reaching out and connecting as they set about coordinating. Yes, this carefully laid trap would work, and Schrider found more comfort here than anywhere else.
Foster’s foot fell, but instead of a clunk of the heavy boot hitting the deck, it made a squelching sound. Following the lead of the rest, Schrider looked at it and pretended to gawk in confusion. The secretion from the nests was a sure sign they were waking, and would be ready soon. Foster reported on his communication line back to Amado that they had encountered some kind of organic goop. Schrider saw the description, though the choice of words proved lacking. The secretion was something of beauty. It spread, congealed and crusted over itself where it waited to provide a stronger connection between the minions and give them a surface on which they could move quickly.
The sound of Colonel Foster’s belt knife coming out of its sheath drew Schrider’s attention. Foster lifted the blade to a column of dried secretion and cut a piece away. Schrider fought against the instinctual need for self-preservation as the host’s arms rose and the pistol came to bear once again. The rest of the fire team followed suit as though Schrider had a good idea in case something decided to attack. But Shrider’s weapon was not pointed at the column.
From the back, Foster’s head made for an easy target. One twitch of the finger, one round, and in less time than it would take to blink, he would be gone. It would be so easy. The Ralgon who had gotten him on Sol had taken his arm but had failed to get the rest. Schrider could rectify that oversight right here and now. But to do so would expose the cover and turn the rest of the team hostile. Now was not the time and soon enough they would all be dead. Not just Marcus Foster.
Schrider allowed him to cut away at the column and with a wave of the Colonel’s hand, the team continued forward, sweeping as they went. The array of destruction and overgrowth continued, slowing their pace forcing them to duck, slide, and cut through the obstructions. They continued on their way until the Remali stepped behind Foster and offered a double tap on the shoulder before stepping around him and accessing the door controls.
The mechanism opened and the fire team swept in, securing the perimeter. Schrider stepped in with Foster
as he formed up behind his team. Several pillars rose from the deck to the ceiling holding mounted computer terminals. A planning table stood in one of the corners and various other stations littered the floor, though many of them had been overgrown. Colonel Valeer broke rank as he stepped forward moved towards one of the terminals. Foster issued instructions through a series of hand signals that Schrider did not care to know how to interpret and just a moment later the calls of “Clear” echoed throughout.
Foster and Schrider stepped to the Remali’s side. His fingers slid across the input display faster than one might be able to follow, but as the voices of the others grew louder from within, Schrider knew what he was looking for.
“Walk me through this, Colonel.”
Valeer’s pace did not abate as he continued his work.
“I’m working through the data archive, trying to pull up the logs and find out what happened here.”
He continued his work without missing a beat. The displays appeared in a tiled arrangement, but most of the screens appeared to be missing data.
“There is a lot of corruption here. The data module must have taken serious damage.”
“Can we retrieve it? Lieutenant Melor can probably recover some of the data.”
Valeer made no response as he continued his work until he came to a different screen, at which point he stopped cold.
“What is it?”
He looked at the screen, and saw the blue icons as they lined up one after another, not that he could understand what he was looking at. Valeer lowered his head and sighed through his face mask.
“Each of these icons represents the life signs of a specific member of this ship’s crew. Their status is indicated by color.”
“Blue means?”
Valeer shook his head. “Our only priority now is to find the cargo.”
Schrider quivered with joy.
November 5, 2832
02:30
Mjöllnir - OpCom
OPERATIONS COMMAND on board the Mjöllnir remained abuzz with activity despite the lack of urgency in the moment. Cody Amado rubbed the bridge of his nose as he digested the reports from the boarding teams.
“Understood. Status of the cargo?”
“Mostly accounted for, sir. Based on the manifest, we believe a few crates of spare parts were destroyed by the overgrowth, but the rest appears intact.”
Cody consulted his handheld and the notes he had scribbled onto it. Seven teams had checked in with him, all with the same report: serious damage to the freighter, same form of creepy goo—some of which had hardened—growing out of the bulkheads, and no survivors. Another nine had checked in with Cassie, leaving four still to report. He could not wait for them.
“Cassie, let’s talk.”
He led her across the deck and into the engineering alcove.
“Give us the section for a few minutes.”
With little more than a smattering of acknowledgments the crewmen cleared out, taking with them only their tablets. The siblings moved to the diagnostic table, currently displaying an exploded view of one of the air reprocessing units. He set his own device on the table, and the hologram winked out.
“Are your reports the same as mine?”
He slid the unit across the table. Cassie caught it and began reading. After a moment, she tossed it back onto the table and gave a silent nod, confirming what he had suspected. He took in a breath as he braced himself for the can of worms he was about to open.
“Thoughts?”
Cassie hesitated for a moment before replying.
“I don’t like it. We have the same report from every ship. Obvious evidence of an attack, but no sign of the attackers. They show up, disable the ships, kill everyone aboard, and leave the cargo. It doesn’t add up. It is possible they needed a bigger ship to take the cargo, but if I were a pirate in that scenario I’d leave a contingent behind to protect the kill from poachers, or people like us trying reclaim it.” She paused. “I think this is bait for a trap. I wouldn’t be surprised at all if someone tries to jump either the landing teams or this ship.”
“Agreed.” He caught a twitch in her expression and he wondered if she had expected his consensus. “I’m a little curious as to why it hasn’t been sprung yet.”
Cassie nodded in silence, but the conversation came to a sudden halt when the duty officer entered, carrying another report. He handed it to Cassie and departed leaving the two in silence while she read through it.
“They just checked in with the remaining four teams; same story.” She turned to face him. “What now?”
“We proceed with the mission and recover as much cargo as we can.”
Cassie frowned as she put the handheld down on the table. “I don’t understand, if this is a trap...”
“Then the fact that it hasn’t been sprung works to our favor. The Remali need these supplies one way or another. We have the means to acquire them and I intend to utilize it.”
“But that’ll put our people in the line of fire.”
Cody smiled as he felt the old Cassie start to bud through again.
“True. But they are in no more danger now than they were fifteen minutes ago. In fact, the only thing that’s changed is that we’ve come to suspect a surprise, which works to our advantage as we can better prepare. We send more personnel. That allows us to expedite recovery and gives us more numbers in the event of an ambush.” He shoved the thought that he might be sending more people into a kill box out of his mind. “Also, order Labonne to set up a Combat Patrol. That will cut response time down as well.”
“I don’t like this,” Cassie said, after a prolonged silence.
“There are humanitarian concerns here, Cassie. You saw the condition of that station. The Remali need these supplies.”
Another tense moment passed as Cassie fell away, as if staring off into space. Cody knew his sister and saw her muddling through the logic, trying to come to her own conclusion and understanding. At least she was making the attempt.
“Agreed, with reluctance.”
Cody smiled. “I’ll take what I can get. Make it happen, Commander.”
November 5, 2832
02:45
Remali Convoy - Rescue 1 Team
“UNDERSTOOD, Mjöllnir. We’ll remain on station until they arrive. Foster out.”
Everyone turned as Colonel Foster closed his communications unit and stepped back to the rest of the group. Schrider chose to be no exception to this. They all waited for the Colonel’s report and while they waited for different reasons than Schrider, the agent held the same curiosity as the rest of them.
“What did your Captain say?” Colonel Valeer asked.
If there was anyone on this mission that Schrider would have wanted to kill more than Marcus Foster, it was Valeer. The human grunted in response. A frown graced Valeer’s face, but Foster offered no response, instead turning to the room, and his men as they milled about.
“Fall in!”
There was no verbal response, but the fire team formed their rank and file in a well-practiced motion, standing tall and tense as they awaited instruction. They did not have to wait long.
“All right, listen up! Although we anticipate an attack, Captain Amado doesn’t wish to squander this opportunity. To that end, they are sending additional support vessels and ground personnel to help expedite the recovery of this ship’s cargo, as well as that of the other convoy freighters.”
He paused as he walked around his formation, to inspect them.
“As Colonel Valeer is the most familiar with this ship, its protocols, and the cargo it carries, the Captain has placed him in charge of the recovery operation. He is in command convoy-wide until further notice.”
Foster stepped away from Valeer’s side, and into his formation standing at attention, just as the rest of his men. Valeer took a moment before doing anything. By the looks of it, the Remali was surprised by this development. So was Schrider. This would play well. Killing the fire team was one thi
ng, but to do it under the onsite command of a Remali would work far better. Without even knowing it, Amado had handed Schrider the perfect tool with which to drive a stake through the heart of this tense cooperation between the Alliance and the Remali. When Valeer failed to protect Amado’s people, there would be hell to pay and the threat of a unified front against Prime would dissolve into nothing.
November 5, 2832
05:00
Remali Convoy
SCHRIDER MASSAGED the shoulder muscles of the host before moving on to the next crate. The host’s body had sustained minor injuries, the effects of which Schrider merely rolled into the facade. They had been at it for two and a half hours and despite best efforts, the appropriate opportunity had not yet presented itself. So, for now, Schrider blended in. The manifest logged this crate as foodstuffs, but the sheer weight of it felt more like machine parts. Nevertheless, with a grunt, the operative hefted the container onto the sled. The next one proved heavy as well, and required the assistance of one of Foster’s men. With the two working in tandem, the second load hoisted far easier as they now shared the weight. Still Schrider scowled at this menial work. Feigning weakness had proven demeaning and the agent grew tired of it.
Schrider sighed and stretched out the tension as the private pushed the now loaded sled back to the transport. There were far more important things to be doing than moving cargo, even if the operative was merely buying time for what was to come. The voices grew stronger as more awoke. But as their numbers grew so too did their uncertainty. The younger and inexperienced lacked the instinct to act, choosing instead to wait for the more experienced and mature to wake and guide them. Schrider might have chosen to lead this, but that was not the role. But as time drew on, Schrider grew concerned that the trap might not spring. While unfortunate, it would not be fatal to the objective. The transmitters placed on the Mjöllnir and Surahan station were still in place, but no attack had come yet. Prime was biding time. With the Mjöllnir away from the Pulsar there was no interference preventing a clear transmission. Prime would come. But until that happened, Schrider needed to blend in and stall for time. There were plenty of contingencies that could be executed to bog them down. They would take longer to execute, especially with the Mjöllnir fully crewed. Even so, each option had been carefully planned out and Schrider was more than prepared to exercise any of them at a moment’s notice.