“No. I don’t know what it was. It wasn’t human. But it made that scream and—”
Fast’s words were cut short as more screams sounded from beyond. From around the darkened bend where the creature had retreated. The piercing cries of women and the agonized howls of men.
And they were all approaching together.
Legionnaires: Chapter Sixteen
Tyrus Rechs stalked through the empty hangar of the Savage mini-hulk Brentwood. He stopped behind a pair of Legion candidates who were attempting to cut through a sealed blast door with torches. The task was taking entirely too long, which meant the doors had been reinforced beyond what this lighthugger should have been equipped with.
“Captain Milker,” Rechs called into his comm.
“Yes, sir.”
“We’re at a standstill at bay door 03. What’s your progress, over?”
“Sir, we’re barely making a scratch. These doors must be ten meters thick the way they’re resisting.”
“Copy. Command out.”
Rechs cursed under his breath. This was not how the mission planning was supposed to go. The intel he and Makaffie had analyzed from indexed Savage cores recovered from destroyed hulks and kept with Sulla showed that Brentwood, which Rechs had found by chance eighty years prior, was a Savage ship full of sentient but non-intelligent Savages. The result of experimentations gone awry. It needed to be cleared of its little beasties, something Rechs was confident his Legion candidates could easily accomplish, and then scoured for intel that could be used for the assault on New Vega.
The plan had been for Makaffie and Echo Squad to covertly gain access to the ship’s systems and open the way for Rechs’s main assault force to clear the ship. The thought occurred to Rechs that perhaps he should have given Makaffie and his team more time to take the controls, but he didn’t like the idea of a team that small being solo on the ship for too long. The creatures might pose a significant threat if they banded into a pack.
Jogging to the farthest reach of the hangar—the only place he could get a comm connection with Makaffie—Rechs reviewed his options. Cutting his way into the main corridors of the mini-hulk was taking too long, and blowing a hole was too risky on a ship this old. It wasn’t built to military standards. It was a civilian science vessel. That is was still intact after centuries of space travel was remarkable in itself. He could call back men, re-board the Chang, and then enter behind Echo Squad. But those were tight quarters for the force Rechs had brought with him. Still, sending in squads one at a time seemed like the best option, unless Makaffie had some good news for him.
But the moment the comm transmission went live, Rechs knew that no good news was forthcoming.
“Tyrus,” shouted Makaffie over the sound of N-1 rifles firing without pause. “We could use some help here, man!”
“What’s happening?”
“Those things are charging us non-stop. And no matter how many we put down, they’re still coming.”
“We’re bottled up down here. Can you open the blast doors leading from the main hangar?”
“Negative. I’m fighting with some kind of program that was left behind. Just working to keep what I’ve got up from going back down. Mainly just lights. Oh—and fighting to keep the central core from wiping itself of all data.”
Rechs shook his head and then motioned for a passing lieutenant to reach him. He muted his comm and told the lieutenant, “Tell Admiral Sulla that we need to re-board immediately.”
“Yes, sir!”
The lieutenant activated his comm where he stood, and Rechs went back to Makaffie, the sound of blaster fire still ringing over the comm speaker in his ear.
“I’m working to get reinforcements to your position. What do you mean a program that was left behind? Someone was on this ship before us?”
“Looks like it, Tyrus. Don’t know what they did or why, but I—” There was a boom followed by Makaffie letting loose a string of profanities. “Oh, man. They’re using their grenades. That can’t be good.”
Rechs gritted his teeth. No. It couldn’t.
“Do what you can, Makaffie. We’re pulling out of the hangar as soon as Chang gets back into position.”
* * *
The Wild Man’s N-1 lay at his side, waiting and ready should he need it. But for now, his big-bore sniper rifle was all he could ever want. The things, the Savage… perversities, were swarming in a massive pack, all howling like the damned souls of the unrepentant. But Wild Man felt no pity for them.
They were Savage.
This was what they’d wanted. Maybe not what they’d foreseen, but nobody left on a Savage cruiser unless they thought they knew what was best for the world. That’s what it boiled down to. They knew what was best and they’d force you to know the same.
Like they’d forced everyone he’d ever known on that small and unimportant planet that should have been of no consequence. Except the Savages always found consequence if it meant more killing.
Which was exactly what it meant on Stendahl’s Bet.
They killed her. His darling. Killed his firstborn.
But they couldn’t kill him. No matter how hard they tried. Whether with guns or teeth and claws… they couldn’t kill the Wild Man.
The big man’s sniper rifle belched out a flame as he squeezed a shot at one of the things running toward them. The bullet hit between the clavicles and tore a gory hole right through. The same round dropped at least two more of the things behind his target. They all went down as if a bolt of lightning from the Almighty had ripped through the charging mass. Immediate judgment.
The Wild Man liked that. He was a tool used in the hands of some cosmic craftsman. One that declared the Savages and their ilk to be a blight on the galaxy. He squeezed the trigger again and sent a tuft of mangy hair and bloody mist into the air, spraying red on the transparent lab walls. And more of the beasts dropped.
Do another one, babe.
She’d come back once the shooting started. He knew she would. Knew that, even though they hadn’t been getting along very well lately, when it came right down to it she’d be back.
Because he loved her.
And she loved what he could do.
The rifle boomed, and she seemed to sigh in ecstasy.
Do another one, babe.
She didn’t bring the little one this time. Wild Man felt a twinge of sorrow about that. Maybe this was too much for one so young to see. It would cause nightmares. Best to let him sleep in his crib.
That’s best.
No need to hurry up and see all the horrors of life. All the wages of evil. Those would push their way to the front of your life long before they ought to on any account.
Hadn’t the boy already lost his ma? Hadn’t the little baby already been murdered once?
Why make him see more of life’s cruelty?
Wild Man fired again. Yes. He was glad she didn’t bring him this time. A child that young… he didn’t need to see monsters. Didn’t need to know that, when his blood was up, his pa was capable of becoming one.
Boom.
Do another one, babe.
* * *
Makaffie worked frantically over the command console that had once been used by Humberto Carlson, the genetic pioneer who’d had the vision to con a wealthy neighborhood into funding a miniature lighthugger to embark on a colonization voyage beyond the stars. Away from an Earth that was growing more volatile, dangerous, and unpredictable by the day.
The promise had been an easy one to make, one yearned for by those who were seeing a life of fantastic luxury begin to fade, whether through the threats of material loss that always seemed to accompany the politics of voting, or through the politics of armed gangs who took what they wanted.
And of course, there was always the more traditional foil of time robbing them of their youth. Forcing them
to face down mortality.
Humberto had told them of a land free of ingrates. Free of those who would seek to ridicule and shame them for their mansions and luxury cars, their ornate lawns and pampered pets.
It turned out that the pets were the key to getting what he wanted.
All he’d needed to do was promise a breakthrough in his research allowing direct communication between animals and humans. That, plus the promised life of safety and luxury out among the stars, got the money rolling in.
But Humberto wasn’t a simple con man. He wanted that breakthrough. That one, and many other darker, more nefarious ones that the passengers of the Brentwood wouldn’t discover until it was too late. Until the medicines they’d consumed began changing them.
And by the time one of his two partners grew a conscience and tried to warn everyone, the colonists were all so confused, they didn’t even realize that timid Mr. McCarley had gone missing.
Makaffie found a recording of his murder. Humberto did the deed himself. With the same handgun he ultimately committed suicide with. After the experiments had run their course. Once he and Ivellisse had come to grips with the reality that the colonists were something irreversibly terrible, and it was only a matter of time—
This was all interesting, but not life-altering information. Makaffie tagged it for backup and moved on, letting the files migrate to the data card he’d converted for use in this ancient computer system as he went searching for the really useful bits of information.
He found a partition that contained data on a new communications device. A project Humberto had worked on before growing so frustrated he scuttled it in favor of DNA manipulation. Immediately Makaffie saw the potential for an independent and self-reliant comm system in the Legion. He tagged it for backup. Priority: High.
Then he found unanswered comm logs from other Savage vessels. These too were tagged for backup, same priority.
And then a partially cleaned recording of what appeared to be Savage marines boarding the ship, rounding up a number of the creatures, reinforcing the doors, and leaving.
Tagged for backup. Priority: High.
“Tyrus,” Makaffie said, ducking his head instinctively as the Wild Man’s sniper rifle boomed. “I’m finding stuff that we need, man. But I’m worried we ain’t gonna live long enough to get it all. Hurry up!”
“Copy,” Rechs said.
Makaffie looked to where Echo Squad was making its stand. They had fallen back in tactical retreat, moving themselves much closer to where he worked than he would like. Sergeant Fast had been the last man at the team’s old line, but now he was running back, just ahead of a snarly and snapping Savage beast, weaving slightly in an attempt to give him men a clear shot at the thing even as they cut down more of the creatures that lingered still farther behind. Finally the Wild Man dropped the thing with a headshot that left no head at all.
Sergeant Fast hopped behind cover and began firing again, looking completely unfazed by the ordeal.
Makaffie went back to his screens. A corner box beeped to tell him that his decryption program had finally granted him access to the ship’s automated defenses. This would help.
He brought up the defensive schematics for the lab. There were the turrets that Echo had already disabled, and there were more of the same positioned throughout the lab. Capable of descending from the ceiling and opening fire in complete three-hundred-sixty-degree arcs.
All the guns had a red box superimposed over them on the screen. Indicating that they were offline. Makaffie pressed the guns that were set up away from Echo Squad, switching them from red to green in the hope they would start blasting at the rear of the pack and cause it to break, allowing Echo Squad to wipe out what remained up front.
He double-checked his work, ensuring nothing was green that could hit him or Echo Squad.
Then he pressed the activate button.
The distant guns lowered and came to life, barking heavy machine-gun fire into however many of those monsters were gathered. Makaffie visually checked the ceiling tiles inside his own area of operation, just to be sure they were offline. He saw no movement.
Good.
And then… not good. A ceiling tile slid aside and one of the defense guns came down. This one wasn’t even in the program. Wasn’t listed as an asset.
Makaffie swore and went back to his screen, frantically trying to shut the weapons system down before—
And then it happened. The machine gun barked its rapid claps and Makaffie watched in horror as it sent round after round into one of the Johnson brothers, stopped, and then receded back into the ceiling.
Legionnaires: Chapter Seventeen
“James is hit!”
Sergeant Fast turned his head at Kimbo’s shouts and saw the Legion candidate lying face down, his N-1 dropped at his side and multiple bullet holes in his back. The blood was already soaking his uniform.
The sergeant turned his attention back to the nightmarish onslaught that raced toward him. The things weren’t hard to kill—a well-aimed N-1 blast did the trick—but there seemed to be a lot of them, and they seemed unconcerned with the heavy casualties they were suffering; already the carcasses of the Savage monstrosities littered the lab. Fast looked for some kind of alpha—something he could kill to make the rest stop coming. But none of them stood out any more than any other. They weren’t identical, but they were similar enough. Grotesque, humanoid bodies that moved on all fours, swollen pot-belly stomachs that hung down, flesh the gray of a man who’d spent his life in a cave.
And the screams…
Fast felt as though he was rapid-firing his N-1 just to drown out the murderous shrill cries of the females and the howls of the males. And the wounded were just as bad, moaning and crying like the wounded on any human battlefield. Only there were never any words. Never a sign of intelligence. Just a guttural, primal humanity.
So primal that it couldn’t rightly be called human. But neither could it be called something else.
The field of fire was slackening. Echo Squad was concerned with James. Already his brother was rolling him onto his back. The moment he did so it was obvious that the older brother was dead. Blood poured from his mouth and down the side of his face. His eyes stared up, void of any twinkles of life.
Fast wouldn’t yell for Randolph to get back into the fight. Didn’t think it would do much good. But Kimbo…
“Kimbo! Get your ass back on the line and fire your weapon!”
The shouts rattled the Legion candidate. He popped up and started firing.
Wild Man was the only who seemed not to even notice what had happened. He was entirely fixated on killing more of the beasts that came in his direction.
“Changing packs!” Fast yelled, pulling his last charge pack from his pouch. This wasn’t good. They hadn’t gone in expecting to fend off a wave attack. He tried to get the younger Johnson brother’s attention. “Randolph! Dolph! I need charge packs!”
Dazed, Randolph searched his kit and recovered a charge pack. He tossed it to his sergeant and then looked back at his brother. And then it seemed that something inside him snapped. He turned, standing straight and erect, and began to fire his N-1 as quickly as he could, yelling in rage as he did.
A brief burst of turret fire from elsewhere combined with this furious assault completely halted the charge of the Savage creatures. They began to scatter and turn, looking for routes of escape. But still more gunfire sounded from behind the creatures, and several of them fell.
“Is that us?” Kimbo asked, hoping it was the rest of the candidates arriving to help.
The bullets answered by snapping and whizzing past them with such ferocity that even Randolph was broken from the spell-like trance of his rage. He dropped to the deck as bullets chewed up the console stations they covered behind.
“What the hell is that?” Kimbo shouted.
Th
ey were all ducking for cover, even Wild Man. An unholy amount of fire was concentrated on them, like they were facing down an entire platoon of enemy soldiers armed with assault rifles and machine guns.
A stray round smashed into the console screen Makaffie was working at, causing the scientist to drop to the ground and crawl to reach Echo Squad.
“Hope that didn’t ruin your reason for being here!” Fast yelled.
Makaffie shook his head. “Don’t need a screen to be on to copy files. But we do need to live long enough to use them!”
Fast took a breath and popped up, firing his N-1 as he tried to see what was shooting at them. He fell back down. “Some kind of bot moving on treads.”
Makaffie shook his head. “More security defenses.”
“Can you turn it off?”
“I turned off everything I could.”
Fast nodded. Not angry. Not despairing. Only a cold acceptance of the facts as he formulated what to do next.
“Okay, we’re going to have to fall back.”
“No, no,” Makaffie said. “I haven’t finished downloading the data I need. This Savage mainframe is ooooooollld, man.”
“Tough,” the sergeant replied. “That thing’s gonna destroy us if we don’t move it.”
“Negative, LC-330.” It was Rechs. “You are to hold your position. The Chang is moving to dock at your location and send in relief.”
“Sir, we’re almost black on ammunition, James Johnson is KIA, and I—”
“I don’t need to know his damned name, LC-330! I need that line held and I don’t give a rat’s ass if costs all your lives to get it done. Hold the damn line until you’re relieved or ordered to fall back!”
“Yes, sir,” Fast said. Again, not angry. Cool and in control. As though he’d been facing down death—doing this—all his life.
“Echo Squad!” he shouted to be heard above the heavy fire that continued to slam into the thick consoles they covered behind. “We hold that thing here!”
Gods & Legionnaires (Galaxy's Edge: Savage Wars Book 2) Page 41