“Oh no you don’t,” yelled Pandora, jumping over the form of the unconscious man, landing on her right foot and spinning into a left hook kick that caught the Chief Inquisitor in the chest, knocking him back. She jumped up and came down with an angled side kick to the man’s knee, the satisfying crack of his joint breaking coming to her ears. The man let out a high pitched scream, trying to grab his knee and keep from falling back at the same time, and failing badly at both. He hit hard with an oof of outgoing air, tears in his eyes, while he grabbed for his broken knee with both hands.
A high velocity round cracked by Pandora’s head, and she ducked and turned at the same moment, cringing inwardly as several more went overhead. The only cover was the table she had been laying on, which had a solid base of metal and plastic. She let herself fall behind the table, banging her knees and grimacing at the new but minor damage she was doing to herself. More shots cracked overhead, and the men, she thought there were three, starting yelling at each other, each giving commands that the others were seeming to ignore as they shouted out their own directives.
I need to get moving, she thought, looking over at the first man she had downed. He was conscious again, lying there screaming with the heat probe stuck deep in his ear. There would be Marines here any moment, and she didn’t like her odds against heavily armed and possibly armored soldiers, unlike the torturers she was currently engaged with.
Pandora slid over toward the screaming man, then hit him in the throat with a knife hand, turning the screams into gurgles. She hit him again, crushing his throat, not intending to leave any of her torturers alive to tell a story of how they survived her vengeance. She grabbed the handle of the probe and pulled it from the dying man’s ear, making sure that the tip was still white hot. Then she was on her feet and throwing it toward the centermost of the men, who flinched and threw his arms up while the other two were trying to get her lined up for a shot. Pandora fell back to the floor, flinching herself as shots cracked overhead, then smiling as she heard the scream of the centermost man. She knew that the probe hit him, and while not sure of how much damage she had done, from the scream she could tell that the hot end had connected.
The men all started yelling at once, and Pandora ran her hands over the body of the man she had just killed, finding a mag pistol and a magazine pouch on his belt under his robes. She checked the pistol, turning it on and setting it for maximum velocity. She set the magazine pouch down on the floor near the table, then crawled around to the side and looked around, pistol gripped firmly in both hands. She knew better than to fire over the top of the table, an amateur mistake most likely to get her killed. The men didn’t seem to know that trick, and she remembered that they were not military at all, merely religious fanatics who could cause enough pain to get the information they wanted.
Suddenly klaxons went off, and she knew someone had either checked in on the room through the viewer, or one of the inquisitors had finally gotten his shit together and sent for help. Probably the former, she thought with a tight smile as she looked around the table and lined up her first shot, also planning her next two. Either way she needed to move, and move now, or she would either be dead or again a prisoner. She swore to herself she would not again be captured, and squeezed the trigger on the pistol.
The mag pistol bucked hard in her hands, the recoil from accelerating the metallic pellet down the magnet lined tube that was the barrel. She had guessed at the recoil, and had slightly overcompensated, so that when the barrel rose the round struck her target in the throat, instead of the face like she had intended. The man dropped his pistol and started to reach for his throat before his body registered the damage to his spine. After that he simply fell dead to the floor.
The other men made the mistake of looking at their dead comrade instead of trying to target his killer. Pandora’s second round took the man to the left through the forehead, then she put two rounds into the upper chest of the last man. Both fell, the first dead immediately, the other choking his life out as blood filled his lungs.
Pandora was on her feet in an instant, heading for the door, her gun still covering the men, switching back and forth. She reached the door and hit the lock button, knowing it wouldn’t hold long. She then sprinted back to where the Chief Inquisitor was still rocking on the floor, holding his knee, scooping up the magazine pouch as she passed the table.
“I need the codes for the security system,” she said, looking down at the small man. “And I need them now.”
“I’m not giving you those codes, woman,” said the man through clenched teeth, a grimace of pain on his face.
Pandora aimed the pistol and shot the man in the other knee. The Inquisitor screamed again, a high pitch noise that carried his agony with it. “I hope that gives you an idea as to how much pain I am willing to inflict, you piece of trash,” said Pandi, aiming the pistol at his groin.
“I’ll give you the codes,” said the man, his eyes wide. “Just don’t hurt me anymore.”
“Can give it but can’t take it,” said Pandora with a sneer. “Figures. Now send those codes through my link and I won’t cause you no more pain.” Pandora opened the pathway to her brain, meshing her own link with the man’s as he sent the information down the pipe.
“Thank you,” she said, pointing the pistol at the man’s head, her own vision almost red with anger as she thought of how she had been violated by this slime ball.
“You promised you wouldn’t hurt me,” screamed the man, one hand going up in front of his face like he could stop a bullet with it.
“Oh, it won’t hurt,” she said with a cold smile playing across her face. “I promise.”
“You will go to Hell for this,” said the wide eyed man. “This is murder, plain and simple, and I will see you in Hell.”
“You sure will,” said Pandora with a quick laugh. “And you’ll be there personal to see me march in. After I send you some more company.”
Pandi pulled the trigger and put the round right through the inquisitor’s forehead. The man fell back to the floor with open mouth and staring eyes, and Pandora, though she really didn’t believe in Hell, hoped that it did exist, and was opening its gates for the man.
Pandora looked over toward the door and used the codes to set a block in place on the lock, then looked to a vent high in the wall that appeared to be her only way out. Her eye caught her clothes, panties and bodysuit, lying on the floor in a corner, and she took a moment to grab the dirty and ripped clothing. She knew it was irrational, but she was tired of parading around naked in front of the fanatics. She pulled the panties on, then the body suit, moving as quickly as possible.
Next she pulled the table that had been her prison over to the wall and climbed on top, looking into the duct that was now blocked by a security door. With a thought the door was retracting, and Pandi pulled off the grill and herself into the duct, grimacing as her ruined chest contacted the metal floor and she scraped along it. She pulled the grill back into place, moved down the duct, then closed the security door behind her with another thought. I better make good use of this while I can, she thought, knowing that the enemy would change the codes as soon as they figured out what was going on. She pulled up the schematics of the ship and found what she wanted, her next target, and the thing that would give her some real power aboard this ship.
* * *
Colonel Wilhem Johanson of the Nation of Humanity Marines had never been to the Supersystem before. He had been privy to all the intelligence gathered from Admiral Gerasi’s first mission to the Donut, but had never experienced it himself. He really wasn’t sure if he was qualified to lead this expedition to the station, but he had been ordered to lead the regiment onto the ancient artifact, and so here he was.
“Clear, sir,” came the voice of the Regimental Sergeant Major, Charlie Patterson, over the com.
Patterson had been on the Donut before, as a First Sergeant. Most of his company had been wiped out, along with a good portion of his battalion. B
ut the man knew what they were facing, which was more than most of the regiment.
“Any problems, Sergeant Major?” asked the Colonel, looking out the door of the transport aircraft that was delivering him to the large pyramid that housed the gateway to the station.
“Just a couple of battlebots, sir,” said the Top Sergeant, his own camera sweeping the wormhole gate chamber, and the smoking remains of two machines that had contested the entrance. “Company A took them out with only one casualty. Kind of wonder why there were only two?”
The Colonel grunted as he looked down at the area in front of the pyramid that had been cleared by lasers and rockets. A trio of aircraft were set down, disgorging sixteen troopers each, then rising into the air while the men bounded up the steps in their powered armor. Another trio of aircraft swept in, landed, and repeated the exercise until another platoon was on its way up the pyramid to the entrance, where a dozen heavily armed troopers had set up a defensive position.
“We’re getting ready to send the first men through,” said the Sergeant Major, the camera view showing the silvered surface of the wormhole. “I would like to accompany the first squad.”
“Negative, Charlie,” said the Colonel in a growl. “You’re too valuable to risk on the point. Send in two squads, and when they report all clear you can go through with the platoon HQ. Then sit tight until you have at least a company over there.”
“Yes sir,” said the NCO with a chuckle. “Don’t aim to put my hide on the line until I have to.”
“Get a battalion on board and a perimeter set up before you go searching for trouble,” said the Colonel, watching the ground approach as his bird came in for a landing. “Once we get the regimental HQ there we’ll start searching in earnest. Clear.”
“As a bell, sir,” said the NCO.
The aircraft set down and the Colonel jumped out with his com and security detail. The other craft also carried HQ personnel, and within moments the entire staff was heading up the pyramid steps, while more combat troops came in behind. The Colonel looked through the camera as men came back out of the mirrored surface and talked with the platoon leader, while another squad went back through.
“Scouts are reporting that there was no resistance on the other side,” said the Top Sergeant to the Colonel as the platoon leader passed through the entrance. “Bunch of combat robots standing around doing nothing. They even fired a few of the robots up but didn’t get a response.”
So the boys in intelligence were right, thought the Colonel, walking quickly through the tunnel toward the gate room, returning the salutes of the sentries along the way. The robots need intelligent control to be ordered to harm sentient beings. Not really a bright idea, in my opinion.
And then the chamber was ahead, and the Colonel caught sight of the silver mirror of the wormhole gate as soon as he entered. The stuff of legends, he was never really sure he believed the magical gates existed, even when evidence came back from the first expedition. A line of troops marched through, disappearing into the mirror surface which rippled with their passage.
The Colonel nodded at one side of the chamber and the headquarters people began to set up their equipment. Soon there were dozens of vid recorders added to the built in suit units, all sending information back to the flagship. Companies formed up, then went through a squad at a time, until there were two battalions aboard the station.
Communications were established through the hole and the Colonel got his first good look at the other side. The long room stretched away on the vid, the Tori arches of wormhole gates arrayed two high along both sides. Most of the gateways were empty, the incomprehensible arrays of what looked like half melted machinery that was said to be working apparatus showing through the arches. Some showed the shimmering mirrors of working gates.
I wonder where they lead, thought the Colonel, watching a take as one of the troopers moved down the row of gates. Someday. But now the mission was to secure a foothold on the station, and maybe find a way to gain control.
“Second battalion is to fan out and search the local area,” ordered the Colonel over the com. “Fire team search units. First battalion is to move out a kilometer and establish a perimeter.” The Colonel turned to look at the Third Battalion commander, a Light Colonel. “Establish a defensive position here and outside the pyramid with a company, then send the rest of your battalion through. I want you to stay on this side and coordinate the defense and any follow up units they send our way.”
The Lt. Colonel nodded his head and started talking into his com, relaying the orders. The Colonel caught sight of some naval personnel coming into the chamber, all with sensory equipment slung over shoulders or held in their hands. A Commander saw the Colonel and ran over, rendering an abbreviated salute.
“We’re ready to start over whenever you say, Colonel Johanson,” said the man, giving the wormhole a nervous look.
Don’t blame him much there, thought the Colonel, giving the mirrored surface another look. The stuff of legend is kind of hard to come face to face with. “As soon as I get the word that all is secure I send you over. Right on my tail.”
The Commander nodded, then jogged back to his men to give them the news.
“How are things coming, Colonel?” came the voice of the Fleet Commander over the com link. “Any problems?”
“No, sir,” said the Colonel, straightening his back a bit as he talked with the senior officer in the system. “We’ve secured the other end, and I have two battalions aboard. I’m getting ready to head over myself.”
“As soon as we run the Suryans to ground I’ll send you some more men,” said the Admiral. “I want you to hold that station if possible. But also get as much tech and data as you can back here in case the position becomes untenable. Understood?”
“Sir,” said the Colonel. “So far we’ve seen nothing but robots, and they aren’t doing anything to impede our search.”
“Get as many of them across as you can as well,” said the Admiral. “Make sure they are deactivated first.”
“I was going to order them deactivated anyway,” said the Colonel, nodding. “At least all in my area of operations. I don’t want them becoming active at the wrong moment.”
“Good thinking, Colonel. I….” Klaxons sounded over the com, and the Admiral went off link for a moment, coming back a minute later.
“What’s going on, sir?” asked the Colonel, wondering if the fleet was being attacked by something he didn’t know about, always a concern to a ground commander who depended on the orbitals belonging to his side.
“Local emergency, Colonel,” said the Admiral. “Nothing for you to worry about. Just get what we need from that station. And maybe, with luck, the station itself. Gerasi out.”
The Colonel stood for a second, wondering what the local emergency could be, then deciding that he couldn’t do anything about it. He turned to the wormhole while calling out to his HQ people. “Red team, follow me. Blue stay in place, and make sure I know about anything going on this side of the hole. Let’s go people.”
The Colonel stepped into the wormhole, walking quickly so his nerve wouldn’t break. He broke the mirrored surface and felt like he was being pulled into something he couldn’t get away from. Then he wasn’t. It was a moment when he didn’t exist, and he stepped from the other side with a feeling of disorientation unlike anything he had ever felt before. He gathered himself and moved away from the gate, knowing that others would be on his heels. His eyes took in the long hallway that had once been teeming with life, people on their way to destinations across the Galaxy.
“Welcome to the Donut, Sir,” said the Lt. Colonel in charge of the defensive battalion.
“Glad to be here,” said the Colonel, a smile breaking across his face. He had made it onto the headquarters of the old Galactic Empire. And if he had his way it would soon become the hub of a new Empire.
* * *
“We have an alert from the Inquisitor’s chamber,” said the voice of the ship’
s Security Chief. “I’m sending a team there now.”
“Why wasn’t security assigned to that chamber in the first place,” yelled the Admiral, feeling his blood pressure rise at the thought that the woman might be free on his ship.
“We don’t have the manpower for everything,” said the Security Chief in a nervous tone. “And the Chief Inquisitor assured me they would have no problems with her. Hold it, sir. We have men at the door. Shit. They say the door won’t open, and their overrides are not having any effect.”
“Well, do something. Get some men into that chamber, and right now, or I’ll see you busted to common Spacer.”
“Yes sir,” said the man, his words shaking. “I’m sending my own override at once.” There was a moment’s silence. “It’s not working. But that’s impossible. Unless. Unless the Chief Inquisitor set his own code to the lock.”
“Why in the hells would he do that?” yelled Gerasi, pounding a fist on the arm of his chair. “I’m sending my code through the com.” Gerasi thought for a moment in the link, sending the Commander’s override code that should have opened any lock, no matter who set it. He waited for the acknowledgement that never came.
“There must be a disconnect in the receiving unit of the lock,” said the Security Chief, talking quickly in the manner of one who knows he is in trouble. “I’m heading there now to use the physical scan override.”
The man’s voice left the link, leaving Gerasi to fret over what was going on down in that chamber. At least she’s still in that chamber, he thought, then felt a wave of nervous tension flow over him as he thought about that. Given her resourcefulness there was no guarantee that she was still in the chamber. And if she were loose on the ship there was no telling what damage she could cause. She’s a naked and injured woman, thought the Admiral, shaking his head. What can she do? And the Admiral blanched as he thought about what she could do on his ship, if she had a mind to cause trouble.
To Well And Back (The Deep Dark Well) Page 19