by James Palmer
“What have you got for me?” he asked as his settled into a seat next to her. “That transmission is coming from somewhere onboard the Ulysis. I want to know from where.”
“I picked up on that as well. I’m glad I wasn’t the only one.”
“The first time I nearly dismissed it, but that… that person said it three times. That’s too damned much of a slip up to not tell us something important.”
“Yes, sir.”
The elevator doors parted and Commander Maddox ran onto the bridge. Looking around, he immediately joined the Andrews and Hall.
“Glad you could join us, Commander,” the captain said, shooting him a look that told the younger man to expect a conference later on.
“Sorry, sir.”
“Have our pilots slow our rate of speed. We may be late, but I have no intention of missing the party back on Earth. Besides, I’ve always wanted to visit there. I hear its lovely this time of year.”
“Yes, sir,” Commander Maddox said as he moved to his station and settled in, immediately directing the pilots in their new duties.
At communications, Captain Andrews and Commander Hall were evaluating their options. “The person on the screen said, ‘this vessel’ twice and ‘this ship’ once,” Hall pointed out. “That tells us that they are aboard the Ulysis. My best guess would probably be somewhere in Nomad City.”
“I was afraid you were going to say that,” Andrews answered. “It makes sense though. Where better to secure a hostage?”
“Captain,” she continued. “There may be a way to narrow the search.”
“I’m all ears.”
“There were several noises in the background of the transmission. If I can pick them out we might be able to rule out a few choices, maybe reduce the search area a bit.”
“Good idea. Work it fast. We only have a few minutes to stop this vessel before they do something to the admiral.”
“Do you really think they will hurt him?”
“I’m almost certain of it.”
“Dammit!”
James McKeen had finally had enough. After trying everything he could think of to escape his makeshift prison cell, none of them successfully, he was pissed. He was so angry at his predicament that he wanted to hit something.
So he did.
His fist was still throbbing from the impact with the heavy steel wall.
His prosthetic eye helped him to see, despite the fact that the sensor screen gave everything a red/black tint. Still, it had its uses. With the sensors in his faux eye, he could make out beams, lasers, could see in the dark. Of course, none of that helped since he could find nothing in the room to aid in his escape attempt.
The only objects remaining in the room consisted of a few empty bottles and drums that once contained what smelled like cleaning solution and a metal shelf. The only object of promise there was the shelf itself. In the inky blackness, he dismantled the shelf, making separate piles for small parts and the larger sheets. He planned to use the parts as a weapon of some sort. The legs were round and solid and made a good staff.
Maybe he could pry open the door.
If he could find it.
Unbidden, his mind tracked back across the years while his hands worked the bolts binding the shelf to the wall. Once again his thoughts drifted back ten years to that prison cell on Braxxus Prime’s fourth moon. He had been a younger man then. He had thought he was invincible.
He was wrong.
It started when a Scavenger cell assassinated the recently elected governor of the Braxxus colony. The marshal’s Office had been called in to investigate. Upon learning the identity of those responsible for the governor’s murder, then Marshal James McKeen issued an alert for the fugitives and gave chase.
He did not have to pursue them long.
The marshal’s team caught up with the Scavengers in the wilds, a rocky desert area. The Scavengers had carved out an area for their base of operations. It had also been the perfect place for an ambush.
The marshal’s team was cut down in short order.
Taken prisoner, McKeen was brought before the Scavenger’s leader. He had proclaimed himself King. The others in his cell were not his comrades or his equals as McKeen had witnessed in most Scavenger colonies. These people were his servants.
Back in those days he had been full of piss and vinegar, so Marshal McKeen, defiant to the last, endured days of grueling torture at the hands of the Scavenger King. Despite substantial damage, McKeen refused to bow to this man he had grown to despise. He had resigned himself in the knowledge that he was going to die on Braxxus Prime’s fourth moon.
Until Deputy Marshal Bill Andrews and his team showed up to rescue him.
The marshal allowed himself to hope for the first time since his capture.
It made him sloppy.
In his final act of brutality, the Scavenger King took McKeen’s right eye, scarring his face badly in the process. The King fled, leaving James McKeen to bleed to death on the floor of his cell.
The next thing he remembered was looking into Bill Andrew’s face as the medical ship lifted off, rushing him to the colony’s medivac station for emergency surgery. The surgeons had saved his life, but there was nothing they could do for the damage to his face. The prosthesis was placed there to protect his damaged skin from infection. It served a secondary function as well. The appliance was designed to slowly knit and repair the damaged skin beneath. However, it was a slow process.
With the extensive damage he had suffered, McKeen would wear the prosthesis for some time. But that was a long time ago, he told himself as he sorted through the pieces retrieved from the shelf. There were a few promising bits. His only regret was that he had never apprehended the Scavenger King. He was still out there somewhere and he was looking forward to their inevitable reunion.
“Come on, Bill,” he said, snapping back to the present. He hoped that somehow the captain of the Ulysis, who probably wasn’t even aware he was in trouble, might sense the danger and ride to his rescue as he had done ten years earlier.
“Hasn’t anyone noticed I’m missing yet?” McKeen asked the empty room.
In his heart he knew there was nothing that would make his friend realize that something was amiss, unless the idiots that kidnapped him were stupid enough to try and ransom both him and Lt. Jeffries against the Ulysis’ Captain.
Hah. They couldn’t be that stupid could they?
A creaking sound filled the small room.
Someone was on the other side of the door, unlocking it. As the door opened, McKeen strained to see it, but to no avail. Somehow, they had masked it’s location. His abductors were not nearly as stupid as he had first believed them to be. No, they were proving much smarter than he had given them credit for.
“The woman is the brains of the operation,” he whispered. “She knows her stuff. Military trained if I had to guess, which I do.” A habit he had developed as a young man, he basically talked out a situation with himself. It helped him focus on all sides of a situation. It was a skill that had served him well.
The door slowly creaked open. The admiral picked a direction he hoped was right, then charged headlong into his captor.
Damn! It had to be the big guy. His shoulder screamed on impact with the larger man. He let out a small cry of pain as both he and his nemesis crashed to the floor in a jumble of arms and legs. McKeen angles himself to land on top. Using his weight to add to the broader man’s impact, the bruiser hit the floor hard.
A gurgled scream escaped the man’s throat on impact.
The admiral quickly pressed the advantage. With precision aim, he jammed a knee into the bruiser’s throat. A few seconds later the man passed out from lack of oxygen.
As Admiral McKeen got uneasily to his feet he heard the other guard, the one he had injured earlier, approach. Hope those fingers actually broke. Maybe it’ll slow him down a bit. The guard had a few broken fingers courtesy of the admiral’s facial prosthesis. Smiling at the memory of the snapping sou
nd the fist had made against the metal prosthesis, McKeen felt adrenaline pumping. His heart jackhammered in his chest. He suddenly felt powerful.
I can still be cocky, dammit, he decided. I’m old, not dead.
Falling back on his military training, he scooped up one of the metal staffs he had taken from the shelf.
“C’mon,” he whispered. “Come to Papa.”
Drawing back, he waited. His quarry would be within striking distance soon. He could take out the last guard and escape. Then he would warn Captain Andrews of the threat these people posed.
He had to stop them. He had spent his entire adult life trying to stop people like these.
There had to be a leak aboard the Ulysis, possibly even from the Alliance officers. He and Bill needed to find it and plug it quickly.
The enemy drew ever closer to the entranceway. As he reached the open door, he slowed.
Does he know I’m here? the admiral wondered. Does he see me somehow? Night vision?
After a second that seemed like an eternity, the guard eventually resumed his course. Undoubtedly, he was curious about the silence from inside the room. Perhaps he believed the prisoner was still unconscious. He probably wondered why his partner was quiet.
Slowly, but cautiously, he crossed the threshold, stepping into the dark room. He stopped just inside, noticing that his partner was nowhere in sight. His body tensing, he pulled his blaster from its holster.
McKeen’s prosthetic eye caught the glint of light off of its power clip seconds before hearing the low hum of the power setting being flipped into the on setting.
It’s now or never, Jimmy!
The admiral launched his attack.
29
Space Lab Science Station
“In here.”
Dr. James Silver pushed open a circular hatchway that led to a small crawl space. The twisted hinges groaned in protest as he shoved against them with all of his might. Opening a quarter of a turn, the hinges stopped dead in its tracks, refusing to move further. Not nearly enough space for any of them to crawl through.
“Problem, Doctor?”
“Just a small glitch, Captain. Give me a minute would you?”
Captain Virginia Harmon did not answer, but he swore he could hear her sigh from the lower rung of the grime covered steel ladder he occupied. Below her were Ensign Bailey and the two person rescue squad from the Pegasus.
Stretching to reach inside the hatch, Silver ran his hand along the interior edge. A small chunk of debris was blocking the hatch. It had obviously fallen during either of the two collisions the space station had endured in the last few hours.
With effort he tugged at the debris, eventually dislodging it. Once clear, the hatch gave way easily, but not completely. The doctor slid farther inside. Pulling away another piece of twisted bulkhead, which also broke free with effort, freed up the hinges and the hatch opened another inch.
From her position on a lower rung of the metal ladder, Captain Harmon watched impatiently as Dr. Silver worked the door.
“Excuse me, Doctor,” she said sarcastically. “But time is of the essence. Could you possibly hurry it along, please?”
He grunted a response.
Harmon was grateful she could not make it out from her position. The air draft in the ladder’s crawl space had been building in intensity the closer they got to the station’s command center.
The doctor surmised the possibility of a hull breach above them, farther along their present course. A detour had been in order so they began looking for an alternate route. Finally, they found a promising direction.
If only Dr. Silver could just get the hatch open they could proceed. She started to say something else, but with a grunt of annoyance Dr. Silver gave a final tug. Pulling free a large piece of twisted metal from the hatch door’s track, the hatchway flew open fully. The doctor shimmied effortlessly inside.
“Good job, Doc.” Ensign Bailey called from his position on the ladder below him.
Captain Harmon simply shrugged. Her patience for the doctor’s plan was quickly fading. “Lets get a move on people,” she said. “We’ve still got work to do and time is running perilously short.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She noticed the embarrassment in the ensign’s voice. She felt bad for him, but there were many more problems than an officer’s, any officer’s, hurt feelings. They had a job to perform and that was exactly what she planned to do. There was no time for coddling in this situation.
Hoisting herself into the tunnel, the captain immediately spotted Silver a little farther ahead. His small portable flashlight highlighted the area around him, casting his shadow down the length of the tunnel. She crawled toward him at a relatively good speed, thankful this shaft was fairly clear of debris.
“Doctor?” she called as she approached him.
Twisting his body around in the cramped space, he managed to sit, his back against a wall so he could face the captain as she likewise stopped to rest at his side, sitting in similar fashion with her back against the bulkhead.
“You rang?” Dr. Silver joked.
She ignored his attempt at humor even though she was impressed that he could make jokes - even bad jokes - at a time like this. Fair enough, she thought. She could take it almost as well as she dished it out, but she had limits. Deep down she had the funny feeling that the good doctor would surpass them before the day was over.
If any of them survived that long.
“We’ll stop here and wait for the others,” she said, her tone making it clear that the subject was not open to debate. From the look of fatigue on the doctor’s face, she doubted he would argue the point.
“Okay,” he relented, flashing her that damned irresistible smile of his. “So, what’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?”
“Oh very nice,” she said. “How long did take you to think that one up?”
He let out a small, smug laugh, noticing the captain’s attempt to hide the small grin crossing her face. She failed miserably, but he decided to cut her a break and not comment on it. Instead his own smile widened.
“How far?”
“I beg your pardon?”
This time it was her turn to smirk. “How far to Operations, Doctor Silver?” she asked, emphasizing each word.
“Oh,” he stammered. “Well, Captain, if we are where I think we are, then this tunnel will lead us back into the laboratory areas on level five.”
“You think?” She didn’t know why she was so stunned by the news considering the man’s seat of the pants approach to everything else so far. “Exactly how long have you been stationed here, Mr. Silver?” she asked. This time there was no amusement in her voice.
He noticed that she had not called him Doctor this time.
Oh yeah. She’s pissed.
“Well?”
He turned on the old Silverfox charm once again. Leaning in close to her, he whispered, “I arrived yesterday on the shuttle.”
The captain’s eyes widened.
“I probably can’t find my room, much less Operations.”
“You better be joking.”
“I’m afraid not.”
“Then how in the hell do you know where we’re going?”
“Please keep your voice down, Captain,” Ensign Bailey said as he and the others slid in behind them. “We wouldn’t want our unexpected guests to hear us, now would we?”
“Ensign...”
Before the captain could chastise him for his insubordinate behavior toward a senior officer, the doctor interjected on the ensign’s behalf.
“Look, Captain.” His voice was firm but quiet. “Ensign Bailey has served on the security detail here at Space Lab for the last three years. Before that he was on the maintenance staff. He knows this place backwards and forward. And we did discuss the route to the Operation’s Center before you joined our little party.”
“I see,” she said, nodding. “However, when this is all over, I think you and I need t
o have a very long talk, Doctor Silver.”
“I look forward to it, Captain.”
“Let’s go,” Bailey prodded. “Break time’s over.”
The doctor led the way, the captain following close behind. Hanover and Walsh followed behind their captain.
Before moving on, Walsh looked back at Ensign Bailey. “Shouldn’t you be taking the lead?” she asked. “I mean, if you have all of those years of experience with this station, then you would serve better taking point instead of the doctor.”
“Well...”
“For that matter, how does he know so much about your personnel file if he’s only been here a day?”
“Well...”
“I mean...”
“Wait,” Bailey held up a hand to silence the barrage of questions. He motioned for her to come closer and he stared into her deep blue eyes. “Can you keep a secret?”
She gave him a look that said, Of course. Next stupid question.
“I’ve only been stationed at Space Lab for a little less than a year,” he whispered.
“But the doctor said...”
Bailey shrugged. “He lied.”
“I beg your pardon?” Officer Walsh asked, astonished.
“He made it up.” Ensign Bailey shrugged it off as if it were no big deal.
Walsh, however, could not let it go. “But…” she started.
“Come on,” he told her. “Let’s move out before the others get too far ahead, okay?”
“But…”
“Let it go, alright?”
“Yes, sir,” she said resignedly, turning to follow the others down the tunnels toward what they believed to be their intended destination.
Five agonizing minutes later they finally reached an access hatch that led to the station’s personnel labs. “It isn’t much farther from here,” the doctor said as he eased open the hatch as quietly as possible. Verifying the corridor was clear, he slid out of the crawl space and dropped to the floor.
“All clear,” he reported.
Captain Harmon gently dropped to the floor behind him. On her feet instantly, weapon at the ready, she scanned their surroundings. The doctor appeared to be right. “All clear,” she said, echoing the doctor’s statement.