Repercussions

by Dominique Mondesir

  "Plowstow! Grab L!" Phoenix said, pulling Saoirse backwards out of the room.

  The owner's stomach began to swell to epic portions and he screamed in agony. Red lines criss-crossed under the skin of his face as his stomach continued to swell.

  "Help me..." he pleaded, but there was nothing that they could do.

  As Phoenix tried to push the crew out of the door, the sound of L's screams filled his ears.

  Saoirse's shouts and Plowstow's panicked words tried to occupy space in Phoenix's head, and he tried to sort through the information he was receiving as best he could, but none of it mattered as the explosion behind them drowned out all sound.

  15

  The explosion blasted through the office doors and part of its walls. The wind was knocked out of Phoenix's lungs, and the stale air was replaced by smoke. He spat and coughed, trying to pick himself up. His streaming eyes blurred his vision.

  "What the--" Phoenix slapped his chest as another bout of coughing wracked him. "What the fuck! Is everyone all right?"

  Groans and moans led him through the smoke to Saoirse, Plowstow and L.

  A cut from Plowstow's head bled freely down his face. He looked up at Phoenix, his eyes slightly glassy. "Huh?" he said, confused.

  "You okay?" Phoenix shouted over the ringing in his ears.

  "Yeah. I mean, shit, what the fuck was that?"

  "I know, right?"

  Phoenix looked down at Saoirse, who cradled L's head in her lap. "She okay?"

  "She's out cold," Saoirse said, stroking a raised lump on L's head. "It shouldn't be anything too serious. If Plowstow hadn't shielded her from the worst of it, it could have been a lot worse. Thank you," she said, looking Plowstow's way.

  "It wasn't nothing."

  Phoenix made his way back into the office, covering his mouth and nose with one hand. The smell of singed hair and burnt flesh churned his stomach, forcing bile up to his throat. He swallowed it back down and took another step into the room. The once dirty white walls were now painted red and charred black.

  Body parts littered the floor like loose change and entrails slid down the walls. Through it all, Phoenix shook his head at the emptiness of it all.

  What did this resolve?

  Phoenix turned his head as he felt a presence next to his side.

  "Pretty fucked-up way to go," Plowstow said.

  "Yeah, it was. This wasn't meant to kill us. It was just a message to frighten us, to show us that he knows what cards we are holding. The information the outpost gave us is most likely out of date and useless."

  "Do you think he knew?"

  Phoenix looked around the room again, rifling through whatever papers and documents were still intact. "No one would willingly allow an explosive like that to be placed in their body. If he did, he probably had a good reason for it. No doubt his family were threatened. Or worse..."

  Phoenix took another step and felt something crunch under his feet. He didn't look down at it; he simply didn't want to know.

  "Well, this was a waste of time. What you wanna do now?" Plowstow asked.

  Phoenix didn't say anything as he continued to look around the room. He turned and walked past Plowstow, patting him on the shoulder.

  "We learnt two things today. One, the enemy knows who we are, and two--"

  Phoenix stopped mid-sentence. A figure wearing an animal mask stood at the end of the corridor, staring their way.

  "Look after L and Saoirse!" Phoenix said, taking off at a run.

  The masked figure gave Phoenix a wave before turning and running. Phoenix powered forward, jumping over boxes and bits of trash that littered the corridor. He didn't know why, but something in his gut told him to give chase, and his gut was rarely wrong. He just hoped that he wasn't being a dick for chasing an innocent party.

  Phoenix took a corner, and all thoughts of the man being innocent were wiped from his mind as he ducked for cover. Two plasma shots scorched the walls where he had been a moment ago. He poked his head over a box and ducked down as more fire came his way.

  "Hey! I just wanna talk, man, stop being a dick."

  Laughter echoed along the corridors, and Phoenix heard footsteps hurrying away. He drew his pistols from their holsters and gave chase. More fire came his way, which he returned. People up ahead screamed as they took cover.

  The frightened faces of the inhabitants of the outpost were a blur as he rushed past. Mothers clutched their sons and fathers dragged their daughters behind them to safety.

  Phoenix moved as fast as he could through the crowd, pistols held high. He could see the back of his target, but he couldn't get a clear shot.

  He saw the masked man turn and point a gun his way.

  "Get down!" Phoenix said, firing his gun in the air.

  The crowd screamed again and people hit the deck. Phoenix felt the heat of the plasma bolts as they skimmed past his head. The grinning animal mask annoyed him more than it should. He returned fire, but the masked figure had already run down another corridor.

  "Shit!"

  Phoenix took off again, taking the corner at a run and dropping to the floor, sliding along it as plasma fire came towards him. He saw his target ahead of him, his back turned as he tried to make his escape. Phoenix fired two bolts. One went wide, but the other clipped the target's leg. He crashed to the floor in a heap.

  Phoenix took his time in getting up. He dusted himself down, tutting loudly at scuff marks on his new shoes. "Will you look at that? I haven't even had these a month yet, and they're already ruined. Do you know how much I spent on these?"

  Phoenix looked up as the man in the mask tried to get up. "Ah, ah, ah. No you don't," Phoenix said, shooting him in the other leg.

  The masked man fell to the floor, his body tense as pain swept through him. He lay silent as Phoenix approached.

  "What's the deal with the whole mask thing, anyway?" Phoenix asked, kicking him in the leg.

  The attacker didn't respond.

  "Look, I hate to be cliché, but we can do this the easy way or...the easy way," Phoenix said with a shrug. "From where I'm standing, you're all out of options. So what's it going to be?"

  Laughter bubbled up from the man like a small brook, turning into a river as it flowed forth, growing louder and louder.

  "Listen, dickhead, I haven't got all day. What's it going to be?" Phoenix said, turning the masked man over.

  More laughter erupted from the man, and he began to spasm on the floor. "Phoenix Jones, Phoenix Jones! The man who left so much behind to escape to the stars. Phoenix Jones, Phoenix Jones! The man who will lose all he's tried so hard to protect."

  Phoenix grabbed the man by his shirt and lifted him up off the floor. He ripped the mask off his attacker's face, and a chill swept through his bones at the sight he revealed.

  One red eye stared into the depths of his soul, searching, looking, probing. That, in itself, was troubling enough, but the all too familiar red veins crossing the man's face were what made Phoenix drop him to the floor and begin to run.

  "The Eye sees all," the man's voice followed him as he fled, and he continued to laugh until the explosion washed over Phoenix, lifting him off his feet.

  16

  "We have the ship in our sights, Dre. Shall we proceed?"

  Dre slumped in his chair, one hand over his face. He said nothing. The viewing screen before him showed a cruise ship, the type dignitaries and the rich used to travel between the stars.

  There was no military escort. There were no supporting ships whatsoever. That would cost them.

  The man who had spoken turned to look at Dre. He was about to say something else but caught a look from another of the crew, who gave him a shake of the head.

  Dre sat upright and laced his fingers under his chin. He had been expecting some sort of escort surrounding the ship, but it seemed that the Council didn't take him seriously enough as a threat, even after his last few attacks. Well, he would change that today, as well.

  "We proceed as al
ways, my friend. We proceed as always."

  The ship grew larger in their sights as they began to close in on it.

  "We are being hailed," said one of his men.

  "Ignore it," Dre said with a wave of his hand.

  Their ship kept closing the distance until the dignitary ship turned and began to speed up. Its sleek tubular black body spoke of opulence and leisure, rather than speed and firepower.

  "They are attempting to enter flaring."

  "Target their engines," Dre said with a flick of his hand.

  As the dignitary ship began to pull away, two missiles from Dre's ship slammed against the back of it. It rocked from side to side but kept moving.

  Dre leaned forward, his eyes locked on the screen. "Fire again."

  Two more missiles spat out from their ship. The first rippled against the other ship's shields, but the second found its target. Debris trailed behind the dignitary ship as it spun in a slow circle.

  "Fire the grappling hooks and prepare to board," Dre said, getting up from his chair. His purple coat brushed the floor as he moved with purpose. He left the bridge with a group of men flanking him on either side. Nothing was said; nothing needed to be said. They all knew their roles. They all knew what they were about to do.

  Dre's footsteps created silence wherever they fell. Heads bowed and bodies moved out of the way as he made his way towards the docking bay of the ship. He stopped in front of one of the grappling tubes that would allow them to cross the space between the ships without needing a vac suit.

  He placed one hand on the tube's entrance and pulled out a picture from his breast pocket. Bringing it to his lips, he muttered to it quietly before returning it.

  "Is everyone ready?" Dre asked, looking at the masks of his men. Each man looked him in the eye and nodded. "Good! Then onwards we go."

  The dignitary ship was in disarray. Lights flicked on and off. Smoke filled the corridors. Panicked shouts filled the air. Dre emerged into one of its halls through the smoke like a demon. He tilted back his head and allowed the metal taste in the air to coat his tongue. His tattoos glowed faintly.

  "I want you lot to take the right," Dre said, pointing to a small group of men, "and I want the rest of you to take the left. Meet me on the bridge," he said, walking away.

  "Dre, this isn't wise. You should have backup!" called a voice behind him.

  He dismissed the notion with a wave and said, "My death does not happen here. I will meet it soon enough, but my death doesn't happen here."

  He began to whistle a tune as his footsteps echoed off the walls. He dragged one finger along the wall next to him, leaving a faint line on the polished metal.

  "Who goes there?" yelled a voice up ahead. Dre continued whistling as he took out two round balls from his jacket, rolling them along the floor with an underhand throw. They disappeared down the corridor, and moments later, screams pierced the air as electric blue current leapt from the balls and met its target.

  "We're hit, we're hit. We need backup," said a panicked voice.

  "Backup has arrived." Dre barked a laugh as he threw two more metal balls down the corridor. He spun on his heel, turning his back and plugging his fingers in his ears, as the flash-bangs went off.

  He continued on his journey, pulling his pistol out of the holster from his hip. He walked towards two stunned guards with blood leaking from their ears. They raised their hands in surrender but he shot both in the head and continued on without a backward glance. Blood splattered one side of his face.

  Another guard rushed at him through the smoke, emergency hatchet in hand. Dre dodged the oncoming blow and twisted the hatchet out of the man's hands, kicking him to the floor.

  "This blade is for emergencies only. It is wrong that you see me as one. I have come to liberate you from the shackles of the Council. Rejoice and welcome death," Dre said, swinging the hatchet towards the man. Blood spurted from the wounds he inflicted and covered his face.

  He stepped over the body and continued whistling as he went.

  Smoke from the ship's bridge whirled round his feet. He could hear shouts of anger the closer he got. Stepping onto the bridge, he said, "Ladies and gentlemen, do not be alarmed at what is taking place here. Please do not fear me, I am only here to save you from yourselves."

  "You call this murder and destruction help?" said a tall dark male, separating himself from the crowd. "Do you know what ship this is? This ship is protected by the Council!"

  Dre lightly tapped the hatchet against one shoulder as he fixed the speaker with a stare. "The captain, I presume?"

  "Yes, and I am responsible for these people's safety. Do not think that you can--"

  "You remind me of someone," Dre said. "Someone most foul. It isn't your fault. We can't change how we look, now can we?" Dre began to mutter under his breath as he patted his breast pocket. Clicking his fingers, he spun in a semicircle, his gaze settling on the crowd.

  "I am here today, people of the planet Tolow, because I believe your president has made a royal mistake. He has knowingly placed your planet under the so-called protection of the Council of Six. This is a grave mistake," Dre said, turning his head slowly as he addressed the whole room.

  "A grave mistake that you shall pay for forever. The Council doesn't want you to join them. They want to rule you. Through your economy, through your agriculture, through the very jobs that you have now. They will slowly rip your culture away from you until there is nothing left--"

  "Lies! All lies!" said a light yellow male with two small antennae sticking from his head. "I will not stand here and have you bad-mouth me and my policies."

  "You are the president, I presume?" Dre said, looking the man up and down.

  The president gave him a nod before shaking his head. "Violence will solve nothing."

  "Your people are suffering and you do nothing! Violence and discontent gave birth to revolution, but you have been too busy to hear its cries."

  "Nonsense!" said a male in the crowd. "We have all grown richer in these last few months since joining the Council."

  Murmurs and nods from the crowd agreed with him.

  Dre shook his head and laughed. "I am not speaking to you. I am speaking to the masses under you. Look around."

  Heads turned and looked up in the air. Faces grew rigid and silence swept through the crowd. Small round orbs with red blinking lights swept around the room, recording everything that transpired.

  "What have you done?" the president said, rushing towards Dre.

  "I am showing the masses the true underbelly of the Council! Now kneel and accept your fate."

  17

  Phoenix heard voices as he made his way towards the medical bay. If he didn't know any better, he would almost think that the fight was between a mother and daughter.

  "What did you think you were doing?"

  "Doing a better job than you, that's for sure. You were just standing there. I had to take the lead and pump the suspect for information."

  "Suspect?"

  "Yes, Midnight, the suspect. I think I did a pretty good job, all things considered. We know the leader of the group is called Dre. We know that he's stockpiling weapons, and is after some sort of information, and we know that he wants Phoenix dead. But that's not really saying much, because a lot of people want Phoenix dead. He's not much of a people person, is he?"

  "Stop changing the subject! That will be the last time you go out in the field with us. Do you hear me, L? If I catch you even gearing up, I will not be responsible for my actions."

  Phoenix moved to one side as Saoirse stormed out and past him. He went to stop her but the words died on his lips; he didn't want her anger turning on him. He was the one that allowed L to go on the mission in the first place. Shaking his head, he entered the medical bay to see L lying in a bed with Freyan checking a monitor next to her.

  "How is she, Doc?" Phoenix asked.

  L waved her hand in front of his face. "I'm right here, you know. You can just ask me." She l
et her arms flop down on the bed in a huff when Phoenix didn't respond.

  "She's good. No major injuries or head trauma. I want to keep her overnight, just in case," Freyan said.

  "Are you sure, Doc? I mean, an injury like that could put someone out of action for a long time," Phoenix said, crossing his arms and giving Freyan a serious look. "I mean, it may be best to have Plowstow look after the engine room till--"

  "By the sands, I don't think so," L said, her hair turning light red as she tried to get up. She was pushed back down by Freyan and Phoenix.

  "Now that you mention it, you could be right. I did see some anomalies that I believe need further looking into," Freyan said, cupping his chin and giving Phoenix a thoughtful nod.

  "What sort of anomalies?"

  "Oh, the usual. A big ego and something that the scientific community like to call 'know-it-all syndrome'."

  "That does ring a bell," Phoenix said, snapping his fingers. "You may also add 'doesn't-listen-well disease' and, my personal favourite, 'do-as-I-please-itis'."

  "Fine. I'm sorry, OK? I'm sorry... I just wanted to help out," L said in a small voice.

  Freyan patted Phoenix on the shoulder and walked out of the room.

  "L, who in the world told you that you don't help out? If it wasn't for you, we would be flying in some tub instead of this state-of-the-art ship. This ship is one of a kind, and it's all down to you."

  "I know that, but... Well, how often does the ship need fixing? It runs like a dream. The times I am needed are few and far between. The rest of the time, I seem to be under everyone's feet," L said, her hair fading to purple.

  "It doesn't seem to bother Kai and Freyan."

  "Kai is a lazy ass, and Freyan is happiest when he's in his lab. I just... You know..."

  "There is no--"

  "And the one time that I thought I helped, I got in the way."

  "Listen to me!" Phoenix said, lifting her chin so their eyes met. "You are the grease that keeps this crew moving without breaking down. If it wasn't for you, we wouldn't have escaped Dredar. We wouldn't have this ship. We wouldn't have Kai's skills. You are the heart of this crew, and don't forget that."