by Scott Baron
He grabbed the portable comms device and opened it to hail on all frequencies. The range was limited, no farther than the fleet surrounding him, but that was all he required.
“Computer, you will translate for me,” he ordered.
“I will do as you ask,” Sid replied, “but you will need to hold the device closer to my speakers. You have cut me off from my transmission apparatus. I cannot send your message directly.”
“Very well,” he replied, holding the portable comms close to the nearest wall-embedded speaker. “Hear me, human fleet. We have taken control of this base, as you have already discovered. We have your precious leaders in our possession. They are well-treated and alive, for now.”
He paused, waiting for Sid to translate.
“We know you are in possession of warp technology. You will send a non-AI piloted warp-capable vessel to your Hangar One. It will be deposited there, then left unattended. Once you have done so, we will depart from this place with one of your people aboard as insurance until we warp away. If you pursue us, they die. If you attempt to stop us, they die. Your only option is that of compliance. Bring us an unmanned ship as you have been directed,” he said. “Translate the message.”
“I will,” Sid said, then translated for those listening.
“Do as you have been instructed. You have one hour. If you have not complied, we will kill a hostage. Translate this.”
Sid did, reluctantly, then sat quiet as the comms were disconnected.
The fleet was instantly abuzz with discussion of what to do. Zed was not about to give an unknown number of alien extremists a tactical advantage.
“We give them a ship, but disengage part of the warp drive. Make it look functional, but keep it from warping.”
“But they will kill their hostage,” one of the other ships in the fleet noted.
“Yes, they very well may,” he replied. “But one hostage versus a base full of them is a tactical sacrifice we may have to make.”
“May I make a suggestion?” a male voice butted in.
“Who is this? Identify yourself!” Zed demanded.
“Jeez, so touchy. You need to chill out, man,” the voice replied. “My name’s Marty.” He flashed on his lights right outside Zed’s windows, much like Freya had done. “Nice to meet you.”
“Another stealth ship? This may be the advantage we need,” the greater AI mused.
“Marty? Where were you?” Daisy asked.
“Oh, hi Daisy. I was off doing stuff. Nice to hear your voice. I didn’t know you were on the line.”
“Freya’s been listening in. I had her open the channel.”
“Cool. Hi Freya.”
“Hey,” she said, dejectedly.
“You okay?”
“No, not really.”
“What’s wrong?” Marty asked, concern apparent in his voice.
“It’s just all of the interior monitors are offline. There’s nothing I can tap into in order to see what’s going on in there. I mean, my scanners sensed some brief weapons fire a while ago, but I have no idea what’s happening. And now there’s no way to sneak in without risking a total depressurization of the facility, and we don’t know where they’re holding the hostages. I suck at this.”
“It’s not your fault. You’re doing great, given your resources,” Marty soothed.
“No, I’m not. I’m a shitty tactician. What we really need is someone smart. Someone who can plan these kinds of things. I’m afraid I’ve only made things worse.”
“Hey, kiddo, you did your best, and we’ll get through this,” Daisy said. “We just need to figure something out, is all.”
“Yeah, she’s right,” Marty agreed.
“And where have you been?” Daisy asked again. “You still haven’t answered me.”
“Doing stuff.”
“Stuff?”
“Yeah, stuff. Anyway, I’m here now, and when I heard what was going on, I thought maybe I could help you guys.”
“Unfortunately, we’re kind of at a loss here, Marty. We don’t have any Chithiid-sized EVA suits, which just leaves me and Sarah, and we can’t even get into one of the airlocks to begin to try and sort this out.”
“I know, that’s why I brought friends,” the AI said, cheerfully.
“Friends?”
“Hi, Daisy,” Duke’s voice said over the comms. “The fellas and I happened to meet our boy Marty here down in LA, and he was kind enough to offer us a ride up here. We understand there’s some loyalist ass in desperate need of kicking.”
“You don’t know the half of it. But the base is locked down, and we can’t get in.”
“Leave that to us. This kind of thing is what we do. Well, in atmosphere, usually, but you get the picture. And since our flesh died off a long time ago, we don’t even need EVA suits to protect us.”
“What’s your plan?” Sarah asked over the comms. “We can’t blast our way in, they’ll hear us coming and kill the hostages.”
“Nope, we wouldn’t want that,” Duke replied. “My guys have a pair of laser cutters that should do the trick. We can bore directly into an adjacent corridor, bypassing the fried airlocks. It’ll take a while, mind you, and we’ll have to be careful when we decompress the corridor. Still, those walls are pretty damn tough, and designed to withstand a lot more than these piddly little things, but eventually we’ll get in. All we need from you is to stall for time.”
Daisy and Sarah perked up, a sliver of hope cheering their spirits in this time of need.
“Okay, Duke. We’ll do all we can. Get to it, and good luck.” Daisy cut the line and turned to her sister. “So, we need to buy them some time. Any ideas?”
“You sure this will work?” Sarah asked as they buried the final charge in the rocky overhang above Hangar One.
“Oh yeah,” Daisy replied. “I almost took a header off the drop above Hangar Two a while back. A decent knock and this stuff should give way.”
“Okay, then, let’s get the hell out of here and get things rolling. Literally.”
The duo quickly made their way back into Freya’s airlock, the stealth ship carefully lifting off and pulling away, making sure to stay well out of the line of sight of any of Dark Side’s windows.
“How long has it been?”
“Forty minutes, Daisy,” Freya replied.
“And how are Duke’s men doing down there?”
A burst of encrypted static flooded the comms.
“Oops, sorry,” Freya apologized. “Forgot the line was open. They say they’re about halfway through the wall.”
“They need more time, Daze. Looks like we’ve got to go with your plan.”
“I agree. Are Duke and his guys well clear of Hangar One?”
“Yeah, Daisy. They’re cutting into the base close to there, but are around the side so the flicker from the laser cutters isn’t visible from within the base,” Freya said.
“Okay then. Let them know we’re detonating the charges in thirty seconds.”
A half a minute later, a tiny puff of dust rose from the stone bluff above Hangar One. The explosions had been minuscule and entirely unfelt by anyone inside the base, but they were nevertheless more than enough to start a small pile on its way.
The debris and stone tumbled down, gathering more mass as it fell until it became a full-fledged rockslide. A minute later, a dusty pile of stone was effectively blocking Hangar One’s doors.
“Okay, Zed. You’re on,” Daisy signaled the command ship.
“Dark Side Base, this is Zed of the command ship, do you copy? Sid, can you hear me?
“What are they saying?” the Chithiid asked. “You will translate.”
“Of course.”
“Yes, this is Sid,” the captive AI replied. “Is the ship coming, Zed?”
“There has been a rockslide, Sid. Tell your Chithiid captors to look outside the windows. It seems that when they set off their explosive charges, they disturbed the rocky surface above the base. We will not be able to
land a ship inside of Hangar One. Perhaps they have EVA suits, so we can land it outside the nearest airlock doors for them instead,” he said, knowing full well they had no such equipment.
“I will translate. Standby.”
He did, and the Chithiid both looked out the window, confirming what they were told.
“This is not acceptable. They will land in Hangar One. That was the directive. They have twenty minutes.”
Sid translated and awaited a reply.
“Tell them there’s no way we can clear all that debris that fast. Maybe if they give us another hour we can have a heavy equipment craft pull the rocks clear.”
Again, Sid relayed the message.
“Twenty minutes,” the loyalist said, then grabbed the sidearm from his comrade and fired a single shot.
A Chithiid hostage fell to the deck, a small hole in his chest where his heart had formerly been.
“Tell them what I have done.”
Sid did as he was told.
“Berrk!” Finn yelled. “Why the hell did you do that, you bastard? There’s still time on the clock! He didn’t do anything wrong!”
Arlo sat quietly, but the acid hatred burning from his eyes spoke just as clearly as Finn’s voice had.
Sid translated for Finn, even though he had not been asked to. The Chithiid looked down on the bound hostage and smiled cruelly.
“Tell him, it was simply to prove I would,” he said, coldly. “And tell him––tell them all–– the next one will be a human.” He looked at the chrono on the wall. “They have eighteen minutes.”
Sid relayed the message, then the Chithiid cut the comms line.
Hovering above the base, Daisy didn’t know what to do. They hadn’t bought any time, and worse yet, they’d cost one of their allies their life.
“It’s not your fault, Daze. You had no idea they’d do that.”
“I know. I mean, I know logically, but I still can’t help but think his death is my fault.”
“Let me tell you something, Sis. Crazies like that? If they want to kill someone, they’re going to do it, regardless of what happens outside their realm of control. I bet he was going to do that all along. This just gave him an excuse.”
“I don’t know,” Daisy said. “What I do know, is Duke is our last hope.”
Fifteen minutes later, the team of cyborgs was still cutting through the thick wall as fast as they could. A hole had formed, but it was still too small for one of their reinforced frames to fit through.
Duke looked at his chrono. They were close, but he didn’t know if they would make it in time. It wasn’t looking likely.
Inside the mess hall, the loyalist Chithiid were also looking at their chronos, but in their case, evil acts were on their minds as the minutes ticked down.
“It is nearly time,” Stengg said.
“Yes. Bring a human. The female.”
The alien grabbed Celeste roughly by the arms and dragged her to her feet.
“Wait, take me instead!” Finn shouted. “Sid, translate that!”
Sid did as he was asked, and the tall alien paused and turned, looking the bound captive up and down.
“Tell him I will not, but maybe I will shoot him as well, just for sport.”
Sid relayed the message.
Finn showed no fear, hate blazing from his eyes as he watched the Chithiid pull his victim toward an open space in the room.
The chrono was ticking down, and there was nothing he could do about it.
The alien watched as the numbers grew smaller. Thirty seconds, then twenty. At ten, he began to raise his weapon.
“Farewell, tiny huma––”
A pulse blast rang out, skull and brain matter spattering across the mess hall.
“What? How did––”
The other loyalist––the one whose head had not just been blown off––spun to face his attacker just as a trio of pulse blasts tore his chest to ribbons, sending his body flying across the room.
He was dead before he hit the floor.
Celeste turned in shock, looking across the chamber for her savior as the smoke cleared.
Her eyes locked on her rescuer and grew wide, flooding with tears of joy.
Standing in the doorway, still frosty from his emergency thaw, Captain Harkaway leaned against the doorframe. A particularly massive pulse rifle was hanging loosely in his hand. He smiled warmly at his wife as he dropped the rifle to the deck with a clang.
“Hi, honey,” he said. “Fancy seeing you here.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Fatima stood on the beach, the clear skies and azure waves near postcard-perfect as the faint rush of the surf and distant call of gulls hung on the wind, completing the scene.
Only this time she was not alone. Not by a long shot.
Lars and Celeste Harkaway were both standing before her, barefoot in the clean sand beneath a small awning erected for the event. Likewise shoeless, and enjoying the warmth radiating between her toes, Fatima was reading aloud from a small stack of inspirational notes and time-tested vows she had prepared for the event.
Surrounded by their friends and crewmates––who happened to be largely one and the same––the long-separated pair stood close, hands clasped as the silver-haired woman beautifully made her way through her speech, eventually asking them each a single question, one to which they both answered, ‘I do.’
Daisy squeezed Vince’s hand at the emotional moment, and he gently raised hers and pressed it to his lips.
The Harkaways looked radiant and ecstatic as they officially renewed their vows.
Even with the benefits of cryogenic stasis, it had been many, many years since the couple had seen one another, and when Captain Harkaway had dropped to one knee and asked his wife to marry him all over again––only minutes after saving her from a horrible death at the hands of alien loyalists, no less––she threw her arms around him and pulled him in close, whispering a tearful but joyous yes in his ear.
There were no dry eyes that day, and the sun and salty air played no role in that occurrence. Even the Chithiid present welled up with tears, and for creatures with four eyes, that was something to witness. But for them, long-separated from their loved ones on their homeworld, the ceremony held even more significance than it did for many of the human observers.
They were going to retake their own world, someday, and even if their wives were old and gray and their children long-grown, at least they would finally be together again. A family unit reunited.
Fatima held out her hand, a pair of shining rings glistening in the sun against her brown skin. Neither Harkaway had worn one in years, with the hardships of their duties and injuries they had repaired. But each had kept theirs safely tucked away, and Mal had ensured both were restored to new condition for the event.
They slid the bands onto each other’s fingers and kissed tenderly.
Then a little more than tenderly, a hungry look in their eyes.
“Get a room, you two!” Daisy shouted out with a joyful laugh.
The crowd burst into peals of laughter and applause and swarmed the couple, bombarding them with hugs, handshakes, and hearty congratulations.
Daisy and Fatima pulled Captain Harkaway aside a moment and slid a keycard into his hand.
“When I said get a room––” Daisy began.
“What Daisy is saying, Lars, is that we had our friends fix you up a little something special,” Fatima finished. “You see the white building?” she asked, pointing to a slightly weathered tower just off the coastline. “It used to be a five-star hotel. While the lower levels need a bit of work, the top floor is all fixed up, and it’s all yours.”
Harkaway wiped the tears from his eyes and looked at the two women standing before him.
“The honeymoon suite? Really?”
“You deserve it, and Lord knows we don’t want to hear or see the two of you in Dark Side for at least a week,” Daisy said with a grin. “In fact, make that two.”
�
��I don’t know how to thank you.”
“You already did. You saved the day, Captain, and it’s time you enjoyed the spoils of your victory.”
Harkaway turned and looked at the crowd of friends, then gazed at his blushing bride. At the sight of her, his smile grew a little brighter.
“So, see you at the reception in what? An hour?” he asked.
Fatima saw the way he was looking at Celeste.
“Make it two. We’ll get started without you,” she said with a wink.
Harkaway grinned happily and went to collect his wife, sweeping her off her feet, literally, and carrying her across the sand to a waiting transport.
“He’s moving like a new man,” Fatima noted. “Even on the soft sand.”
“Yeah, funny, that,” Daisy said with a knowing smile.
“Daisy? What did you do?”
“Me? I didn’t do anything.”
“Let me clarify. What did Freya do?”
“Oh, that? Well, when she inoculated him against the plague, she might have, just maybe, turned loose a few of her nanites as well. You know, just a little something to fix up his worn-out replacement parts before they broke down on him.”
“Aah,” Fatima said. “That would explain it. And judging by the way his wife was looking at him, I think he’ll be putting those repairs to good use.”
“Oh, Fatima, seriously? You went there?” Daisy laughed.
“Why, whatever do you mean? I was merely making an observation,” she shot back with a grin. “Now, come on, there’s a party to enjoy, and we should make the most of it. The plague has been cured, and it’s a happy occasion, but after this shindig, I’m afraid there’s going to be a lot of work for all of us.”
“Did someone say party?” Finn laughed as he stumbled through the sand, a drink in each hand. “Well, then, let’s go!” He merrily made his way through the crowd to the slender woman in a rather flattering dress.
“Dang, look at Sarah, will ya?” Vince said, rejoining Daisy after making a quick round of the guests. “Habby really hooked her up.”
“He hooked all of us up,” Daisy said.