The Apex Warriors

by Marc Stevens

  The voice of the Troop Master in charge scoffed at whoever was speaking. “You are a bigger fool than I thought. The Demon Warrior has left hundreds of corpses in his wake. I have seen these things first hand. He and his strike team have killed countless well-trained soldiers. They have superior technology and know how to use it. Many have gone searching for them, but not a single one has ever returned. You would only be an inconvenience to them and not a serious threat. If we stay together and stick to our plans, we can overcome their technological advantage. We can win, and when we do, we will be rich enough to be granted a residence in Frontier. We will eat Dorta Sea Snakes, drink Wurba, and be pleasured by the finest prostitutes credits can buy for the rest of our lives.”

  Whoever this guy was, he sure knew how to give a good pep talk. His troops were on the verge of cheering when he told them all to shut up. He ordered them to gather their weapons and gear and get ready to move to surveillance position three. That last part about Frontier was particularly interesting. We were trying to get information on Frontier so we could get a hard lock on its location. If one of these guys knew where it was, I wanted to talk with them. That was not going to be possible because according to Klutch, we were going to have to kill them all or risk serious injury or death in a failed attempt.

  Klutch had heard enough and held his grenade up to me. He set it for proximity detonation and pointed up toward the overhead. The Chaalt devices would hover over our targets and detonate downward. I was hoping we were deep enough underground the explosions would go unnoticed on the surface. We inched forward until we were at the edge of the service tunnel. There was eight Tibor gathering up their gear. Six were wearing battle armor. The other two were wearing civilian garb. They were the bait team we saw on the surface. Battle armor or not, two grenades going off over your head in the confines of the service tunnel, was going to bring a world of hurt to the unsuspecting bastards.

  We threw our grenades and then ducked down, turning our backs to the impending doom. The twin explosions were jarring and ricocheting shrapnel found its way back to us. Several pieces impacted against the backs of our armor. We quickly stood and emptied the magazines of our shotguns into the sprawled Tibor's. The explosive buckshot blew pieces of armor and Tibor in all directions. We switched over to penetrator slugs and charged into the mayhem. Anything moving received a point-blank slug. The devasting blasts blowing the survivors into pieces.

  Klutch held up his fist and took a knee. “Cease fire!”He called.

  We dropped our magazines and slapped fresh ones in place. The smoke and haze were slowly settling. We split up and took a body count. The carnage was horrific. The grenades and buckshot made taking a headcount difficult. We counted the collection of mangled breastplates and were coming up one short. There were only five. There were two passages on the opposite side of the service tunnel junction. Klutch pointed at the righthand one and I nodded. He took the left one and we cautiously approached them.

  There was ocher-colored blood on the floor of the passage on my side. “I have a blood trail Troop Master.”

  Klutch joined up with me and looked into the passage. His language was colorful, to say the least. I could not believe anyone could have walked away from our initial attack. Klutch got down on his knees and looked carefully at the blood trail.

  “He must have seen the grenades before they detonated.” He commented.

  “That’s a lot of blood, he won’t be going far.”

  Klutch nodded in agreement. “We need to find him quickly or he will alert the others.”

  I did not like that prospect. I commed Coonts and Tria. “Tria, tell the Sig to take up surveillance positions. They need to make sure no one gets off the freighter. We have information your targets are Scrun. There are at least twelve, possibly more. We took down the Tibor terrorist, and are in pursuit of a single runner.”

  “Roger that,” Tria commed back. “No alerts are being broadcast, so we can still keep this from the Galactic Union. Be careful Nathan.”

  Klutch pointed up the passage and I followed him in. The blood trail became intermittent. The survivor was attempting to staunch the flow of blood. Klutch suddenly stopped. He was sniffing the scent in the passage. I did not know what it was about a Tibor that found their own scents alluring, but he was taking it all in. His suit vents locked into the open position and he stood upright in the passage. He shocked me when he used his external speaker to broadcast down the dark passageway.

  “This is one job you should not have taken Skully!”

  More than a minute passed and a voice called back. It was the Troop Master that led the ill-fated troops lying dead behind us. The pain in his voice was obvious. “Klutch Zuma? How is it possible that I smell your warrior's scent, you are supposed to be dead!”

  We moved forward cautiously until the passage opened up into another junction. The Tibor was lying face down on the floor with blood pooling around his missing arm. The battle dressing he tried to apply only partially covering the ragged stump. He could not get it into place because his remaining hand was horribly mutilated and missing all but two fingers. He was trying to use the hand to pull a grenade from his munitions pouch. His attempts were futile. Klutch cleared his war mask from his helmet and uncloaked. He advanced on the Tibor drawing his fighting knife. For a moment I thought he was going to finish the Tibor. To my surprise, he did not.

  “No Skully, I am not dead. It would take more than being stabbed in the back by a coward to kill me.”

  Klutch slashed the ammo pouch from the Tibor’s mangled armor and tossed it aside. He sheathed his knife and cinched Skully’s battle dressing on properly. It staunched the flow of blood, but I doubted if it would save the Tibor’s life. He was bleeding from several holes in the back of his armor. He was seriously messed up and I had no idea how he managed to make it this far in the condition he was in. Klutch rolled the Tibor over on his back, causing him to groan. The effort causing blood to spray from his mouth. One of the Tibor’s eyes was a splayed bloody mass hanging from its socket. The other was roving around trying to focus on Klutch.

  Klutch leaned over the Tibor. His good eye locked onto Klutch’s face. “I always wondered where you would end up after leaving the academy. The Headmaster never understood why you left, he said you were the best instructor he ever had.”

  “You exaggerate. If I was that good, you would not be here, dying in this scat hole.”

  That answered a lot of the questions running around in my head. I no longer wondered how they recognized each other scent. The Tibor was once one of Klutch’s trainees.

  “Maybe if you stayed, I would have turned out better.” The Tibor wheezed.

  Klutch barked out a laugh. “Not likely. You always had a problem with authority. No matter how many times I beat the scat out of you, you would turn right around and do something else to earn the ire of the Headmaster.”

  Skully spit out a mouthful of blood. “ I hated that Throgg. He was always reminding me of how deep in the mines my clan came from. He constantly threatened to send me back, and I despised him for it.”

  “You got him all wrong,” Klutch said. “He sent countless others back to the mines for a lot less than some of the stunts you were pulling.”

  The Tibor seemed confused about what happened to him. “Were you hired to find me after the Gawanny massacre? For what it is worth, I tried to stop my troops, but it was already too late.”

  “No Skully, that is not the reason I am here. Do not confess your crimes to me. You will have to answer to our maker for those.”

  Skully’s eye focused on me when I uncloaked behind Klutch. The visage of my war mask making his face contort in shock. He flailed his wounded hand up at me, slinging blood on Klutch’s armor. “Senior Troop Master! Death is coming for us. It is the one they call the Demon Warrior!” He gurgled.

  Klutch slowly stood up next to me and activated his war mask. “No Skully, my Commander only comes for those who deserve death. I have questions y
ou need to answer. If you give me the truth your suffering will stop now. If you chose not to, we will leave you here to die in misery.”

  The Tibor’s mouth fell open. Comprehension finally seeped into his brain. “What do you want to know Senior Troop Master?”

  “Who sent you here?”

  “A Grawl named Nassar. He said he was a representative for the Omega Syndicate. He hired us away from Glock’s employ. My troops and I were part of Glock’s personal protection team. I do not know what sum Glock was paid for our departure, but he hand-picked twenty of us for the contract interview. Our skills were tested and my crew and I were selected as the finalist. We were given five million credits each for expenses to take the contract. If we completed it, any survivors would receive five hundred billion credits and be guaranteed a residence in Frontier.”

  “What is the Omega Syndicate?”

  “I can only tell you they have endless credits. When someone needs to disappear, no matter who they are, the Omega Syndicate are the ones with the contacts to make it happen.”

  Skully lifted his mangled hand up in my direction. He told us something I already knew. “The contract for you and the Demon Warrior is open-ended. There are a lot of bounty hunters and mercenaries willing to do whatever it takes to get in on that kind of wealth.” He panted.

  His eye lost its focus and he started mumbling gibberish, then stopped breathing. We would find no more answers here.

  “Tria, I need a sitrep.”

  “Nathan, did you find your runner?” She answered back.

  “Yes, there are no more loose ends here. We are moving to your position.”

  “The Sig are in position and have the area locked down. There is no movement in or around the freighter that we can see.”

  “Roger that, we are on our way. Please inform Bonaparte we have a large cache of weapons and explosives that will need to be recovered, along with eight bodies.”

  “Affirmative Nathan, both he and Bond have been standing by waiting to hear the outcome of our operation.”

  Klutch led us up into the abandoned warehouse. He quickly pointed out several tripwires and traps. We would tell Bond not to risk anyone’s life trying to defuse them. It would be better to destroy the building under the guise of demolishing a hazardous structure. He made a hole with the guardian device and we carefully exited out of a sidewall. We stayed low to the rooftops and were back in the dock area in less than four minutes. Tria and Coonts were on top of a building overlooking the freighter. They had a good view of the cargo hold. We landed next to them and studied the target. Coonts transferred the locations of the Sig security team to my HUD.

  “Any word on the Galactic Union?” I asked Tria.

  “Bond says they are preparing for departure.”

  “I don’t suppose they appraised anyone on their findings.”

  Coonts jeered at my question. “Commander, Bond told us those fools would have trouble determining their own gender without someone of a higher authority telling them in advance.”

  “So, them coming here, was an attempt to discredit Bonaparte and not part of the plot against us?” I wondered.

  “After briefing Bond and Bonaparte on your intel, their consensus is that someone on the Galactic Counsel wants to install a person of their choosing as head of security in this sector. The only way of doing that is to prove Bonaparte, and the Sig, are inept and not up to the task. As it stands now, they would be hard-pressed to make that case. Bond is still collecting information on everyone they interviewed and said he will make it available to us. He did say that collusion cannot be ruled out.” Tria answered.

  I knew the Galactic Union council had its share of rotten eggs. We were chipping away at the deception that shields them from prosecution. They, in turn, were taking action to limit their exposure. I had no illusions about who occupied the number one spot on their execution lists.

  Klutch thought I was taking too long pondering all the variables. “Commander, it is just a matter of time before the Scrun find out something happened to the Tibor strike team. We should take them down before that happens.”

  “Okay Troop Master, I would like at least one prisoner to interrogate.”

  I got three acknowledgments from my team. Klutch lifted off the roof and we joined up with him in our combat formation. He took us over the bow of the ship and past the open doors of the cargo hold. He chose a spot just behind the ship’s forecastle. The location sheltered us from the direct view of the Sig surveillance teams. Klutch pointed at the portal device and I gave him a thumbs up. As a rule, we never revealed the extent of our tech to anyone if possible. For the time being, that also included the Sig security team. It wasn’t that we didn’t trust them to keep it quiet, we just felt the less that was known about our capabilities, the better. Disappearing shortly after landing on the target, was going to raise a lot of eyebrows, and no doubt a lot of questions. We did not plan on sticking around after we figured out the extent of the covert operation. We would pass the intel to Bond and he would have the unenviable task of deflecting the questions that General Bonaparte would surely be asking.

  Klutch activated the portal device and gave us a good hole. We went through quickly and found that our luck was still holding. We were in a small machine space that was unoccupied and pitch black. Our no-light sensors showed there was a hatch just to our right and another larger one on the deck at our feet. The temperature in the room was hot, My HUD displayed blinking numbers, emphasizing the one-hundred and fifty-six degrees was not a habitable number for any of us. A loud hum was coming from the machinery around us. It was a no-brainer that it was performing some necessary function. Coonts, being an engineer and always scheming in ways to one-up Klutch, suggested we throw a monkey wrench in the works, to see who came to check on it. The tactic worked in the past with reasonable results, so I told him to go ahead. He inspected our surroundings in search of a control panel that could shut down the equipment. We could see he was coming up with nothing, so he pulled a few panel covers. On his third attempt, he uncovered a set of emergency shut down switches. Printed in Galactic standard above each switch was a warning indicating what system it would shut down. The only one of any real importance was the fire suppression systems. We wasted fifteen minutes searching and needed to move on.

  “Coonts, we are out of here. Klutch, pick a hatch, and let's move.”

  Coonts was a little more than disappointed his idea didn’t accomplish his intended results. We formed up behind the Troop Master and went to the hatch on our right. He opened it and peeked out. He used his beam weapon targeting system to get a good view outside the utility room. There was a catwalk that led to a ramp that went up. It was unoccupied so we stepped out and looked over the rail of the narrow walkway. There were six identical walkways below us. They possibly went all the way to the cargo hold. We were inside the ship’s mechanical guts. Judging by the undisturbed accumulation of dust and dirt, no one has used the passage in a very long time. I pointed up the ramp and Klutch nodded. When we got to the next hatch we stacked in our breach formation. I hoped it would get us into the interior spaces. Klutch opened the hatch and came face to face with a very surprised Murlak. The hatch apparently opening on its own, made the Murlak’s mouth drop open and he reached for his sidearm. Before he could yell, Klutch smashed his gauntlet into his head. The blow crushed his skull and killed him instantly. Klutch pulled him in the hatch and tossed his body over the catwalk railing. We waited for several tense moments to see if anyone was alerted. There were no alarms, so we split up to start searching for the Scrun we knew were here somewhere. There were four hatches to our left, and the junction of another corridor. To our right, was six more, and a dead-end that was probably the outer hull.

  “Klutch, you and Coonts go right. Tria and I will go left.”

  Tria didn’t need me to say move out and went to the first hatch on our side. She waited until I was at the other side and then hit the access switch. It was an empty storeroom that lo
oked like the occupants of the ship were throwing trash into. We moved to the next and I open it. It was a vacant crew quarters. There were bunks on both walls, and none had bedding on them. The place was dirty and unused. We moved on, glancing back over our shoulders to see how Coonts and Klutch were doing. They came out of their second hatch and moved to the next without comment. I was beginning to wonder where the Murlak was going when we stumbled into him. Tria again waited for me and we entered the next hatch. Two Murlaks were sitting at a small table and eating. Both were wearing light armor with sidearms. Two beam rifles were leaning against the wall next to them. The two were calm and uncaring. They were concentrating on their rations and had no idea it would be their last meal. Before I could get a fighting hook extended, Tria killed them both with a low-velocity penetrator spike. The spikes were protruding from the opposite side of their heads. She yanked them from their skulls and returned them to her magazine. The Chaalt warrior was deadly and cost-efficient at the same time.

  We exited the cabin and saw Coonts and Klutch coming up the passage to meet us. “Commander there was only a latrine and empty crew quarters on our end,” Coonts said.

  I hooked a thumb over my shoulder at the cabin we just vacated. “We found two more Murlaks and no Scrun. I think they might be part of the freighter’s security team.”

  “Commander,” Coonts commed. “The Scrun breath an exotic atmosphere. We should be looking for a pressurized compartment.”

  Coonts was right. You can stay in your pressure suit only so long before wanting to get out of the damn thing. The Scrun entered the ship from the cargo hold. It made sense their refuge would be somewhere convenient to them. We searched the last of the cabins and only found one that was recently occupied. By the look of it, four bunks were being used. I pulled a grenade from my kit and my armor AI set it for proximity fragmentation mode. The grenade would only detonate when it depleted its fragment casing. I tossed it to the overhead in the cabin. It hovered just above the hatch.