The Apex Warriors

by Marc Stevens

  We had to move fast now that we were on the offensive. I pointed to the overhead just down from the lifts. “Klutch make a hole.”

  The Troop Master leaned back and activated the portal projector. We got a good hole and boosted up through it with our gravity drives. We found ourselves in a storeroom that was well stocked with a variety of ration crates. Klutch wasted no time and opened the hatch to take a peek outside.

  “Commander, I cannot see its location, but we are behind the video device that was monitoring the hatch the Scrun were using. I don’t think we should take the chance that they are not watching it from inside their hide.”

  “Okay, but whatever you have in mind we need to do it quickly.”

  “Let’s go up one deck Commander. I have a hard lock on the distance from here to the inside hatch. We will breach from above.”

  “Do it,” I replied.

  Klutch took one more look for good measure and closed the hatch. He leaned back and made another hole. We stacked and boosted up after him. This time around we were not alone. Four Murlaks were sitting at a table staring wide-eyed and slack-jawed at the shimmering gray portal at their feet. Klutch plowed headlong into them. He knocked the table and all four of them to the deck. We extended our fighting hooks and dove on top of them. It was brutally violent and an ugly example of just how savage our fight for survival was turning out to be. The Murlaks did a lot of yelling and screaming but to no avail, it was over in less than two minutes. We hacked the unlucky fools to death. Only one of them was able to draw his weapon, but in the confusion of the melee, he discharged it into one of his comrade's backs. The hissing pop the weapon made was fairly loud. Coonts rushed to the hatch to see if there was anyone outside. I was relieved when he called all clear.

  I could not fathom why the Murlaks would want to be on the freighter in the first place. They obviously didn’t have any idea what the Scrun were really up to. The morons were probably told it was a mission to kill me and my crew and they signed on in hopes for fame and glory among their own kind. I seriously doubt if they knew it had a suicide clause. Regardless of what they may or may not have known, it made no difference now.

  There was a shelf nearby with containers of water and other consumable liquids. We opened them and tried to clean as much of the blood off our armor as possible. Blood was a pain because it tended to dry quickly, and it hampered the performance of our cloaking emitters. We managed to get most of it off and stacked behind the Troop Master. He peeked out into the passage and held a thumb up. I rapped him on the shoulder and we went out as fast as possible without making a lot of noise. When we were standing even with the lift tubes, Klutch’s HUD starting counting down the distance to the inner hatch a deck below us. I hoped for everyone’s sake it was unoccupied.

  Klutch stopped and bent over. “Ready on your order Commander.”

  My gut had a knot in it that seemed resistant to my efforts to shoo it away. It was a toss-up whether it had anything to do with the murderous mayhem we were leaving in our wake or the uncertainty of being blasted into the waiting line at our maker's house.

  To my surprise, Tria commed me on a private channel. “I have been in my armor far too long, and have a scratch you need to itch.”

  I barked out a laugh. She went to the trouble of saying it in English, and I didn’t have the heart to tell her she said the old Earth saying backward. It put a smile on my face that removed the knot from my guts.

  “When we are done here, I will see what I can do about that.”

  I switched to the group channel and slapped Klutch on the shoulder. “Let’s go, Troop Master, Tria thinks she may have contracted the Fusra Pus Virus. She is in a hurry to get back to Alpha Base for proper treatment.”

  Klutch made a hole and sanity be damned, we all dropped through laughing. The space in between the interior and exterior hatches was pitch black and I was glad it was. It meant there was a very good chance there was no active video feed.

  Klutch was examining the interior door. “Commander, this is a pressure door to an atmospheric lock.”

  I heard Coont’s mumble, I told you so. Tria put a word in before him and Klutch decided they needed to debate it. “If we are fortunate, the last of them will be together and not wearing their armor.”

  I pulled my shotgun from its clip just in case Tria was correct. I only had three Containium spikes left in my magazine. The rest had payloads that were not optimal for close-quarters combat.

  Klutch made another hole in the outer door to the airlock. We went through and it was vacant. The atmospheric lock was about eight feet in length and had a reinforced pressure door with a window in it. We eased up to it and took turns looking. A grim smile crossed my face. We were indeed fortunate. The remaining six Scrun strike team members were present and now accounted for. They were not wearing their armor. All had the puffy yellow pressure suits we assumed were their standard uniforms. We no longer had to worry about searching for the bomb either. There was a large cylinder-shaped device in the back of the room. If I was to guess, I would say it was a modified anti-matter power cell from a shuttle. Strapped to the front of it was another of the shaped cutting charges. It was a Simple Simon fabrication. Set the charge off and it would split the anti-matter containment vessel, blowing up the freighter and everything around it for miles.

  “Did you notice the uniform on the Throgg closest to the bomb?” Tria asked.

  “Yes, he is wearing medals, and judging by the number of them, he is a decorated officer,” I replied.

  “The slaver we killed on the bridge, may not have been their leader,” Klutch added.

  Coonts eased back up to the observation window and took another look. “Commander, there is a device on his left wrist. I believe it is a detonator for the weapon. Its small size might indicate that no code is required to make it function.”

  “I will take the officer,” Tria said drawing her fighting knives from her leg scabbards. Please make sure none can assist him.”

  That was the most polite way of saying kill everybody else I had ever heard. “Okay, you know the drill. I don’t need to tell you an errant shot could blow us all to hell. I want precision kills with low-velocity penetrator spikes. Troop Master, I will take the two closest to the hatch on the right side. You take the two closest to the officer. Coonts, you take the one on the right and make any follow-up shots that you feel necessary.”

  I got three thumbs up, then gave Klutch one of his own lectures. “Troop Master, when you get around to making a hole, please don’t make us wait on you.”

  He held up three fingers and when he got to one he made a hole. We boosted through fast. The Scrun froze at the sight of the portal appearing on the airlock hatch. It was all we needed. Tria threw one of her fighting knives at the officer, cutting off the arm with the detonator just below his elbow. She was on him in a blink of an eye and nailed him with two roundhouse blows. His body went limp. I gave my targets a spike each that folded them over and dumped them on their faceplates. The Troop Master’s targets were dead before they hit the deck, as was Coonts’s. Each had twin holes just below their faceplates that almost touched. They drew their fighting knives and went to each of the bodies making sure there were no survivors that could trigger the bomb. Tria was sitting straddle of the Scrun officer’s limp body. She was applying nanite gel to his severed limb and cinching a battle dressing to the stump that would keep him from bleeding out. We all carried an emergency spray sealant in case our armor was pierced. Tria took hers from her battlesuit storage compartment and sealed the Scrun’s suit with it.

  “Coonts, call the Sig security team and inform them the freighter’s hold is now safe to enter. They will need to sweep the freighter for any remaining Murlaks. Meet them there and brief them on the traps, the detonators, and the anti-matter weapon.”

  I picked the Scrun’s arm off the deck and looked at the detonator. I had no idea how it worked and damn sure wasn’t about to leave it laying around. I handed it to Coonts.
“You better take this with you.”

  He studied the small device for a minute, then stripped it off the appendage. He tossed the Scrun’s arm on the deck with the rest of the corpses, then headed for the cargo hold to meet the Sig.

  I waved the Troop Master over. “Klutch, we are going to need our shuttle so we can evac our prisoner. Bring it in as close to the freighter as you can. I don’t want anyone but the Sig to see what we are up to.”

  “Roger that Commander.”

  I went to the cargo hold in search of a crate that was roughly the dimensions of our prisoner. I found one that was probably too small but it would do. I heard Tria on our comms calling Bond. She was making sure we would have clearance to move our shuttle around the dock. I should have been smart enough to know we were in a restricted flight area. I smiled knowing members of my team were. Tria showed up in the hold a minute later with the Scrun over her shoulder. I pointed at the crate and she just shook her head and tossed him in. We had to forcibly fold his long gangly legs up to get the lid back on. I stood on it while Tria sealed it up.

  The Sig security team cautiously entered the hold and spread out into a defensive perimeter. Their leader got on his commlink and a minute later several groups of heavily armed Sig wearing assault armor marched into the hold. Coonts met with them and made sure they knew about the traps we were aware of. I recognized their Commander and approached him. He was Sushi’s former aid and now Bond’s liaison to General Bonaparte. His name like most Sig’s was a difficult mouthful to pronounce. I had dubbed him Julio after one of my grandfather’s favorite adult beverages. The moniker was all I could come up with when I met the elder statesman. It crossed my mind when we met, that he was extra anejo.

  I could tell Julio was troubled by what he was seeing. He was probably thinking of the death toll, had the weapon we discovered detonated. He may not have liked that it was targeted at me regardless of the collateral damage it would have inflicted on the outpost. I would have Bond give him a detailed after-action report. It would not ease his mind finding out that the culprits of the attack had their plan in place for several months. I hoped that knowing the conspirators were dead, would help smooth things over.

  “Commander Myers,” Julio said. “Bond Conners, and General Bonaparte, send their regards. They appreciate your help in preventing another terrorist attack.”

  “Julio, please tell the General we will have a more detailed picture of who was behind the terrorist activity on the outpost very soon.”

  I pointed to the bulging crate. “Could you please have some of your team load this into our shuttle, it should be here shortly?”

  “Of course Commander, is there anything else that I can do to assist you?”

  “No Julio, we will be departing immediately. If this works out as I anticipate, the General will be able to make a public statement as to who was behind this plot. If the races responsible are revealed in a public manner, it should prevent further attacks if it was to become known your people will wage war in the event of another attempt.”

  Julio looked like he was digesting what I just told him carefully. Making the comment his people would wage war, was a stretch on my part. Julio was a quick study and knew that it was just a threat. Other races, especially those behind the attack, would take it seriously, no matter who they were.

  A smile slowly crept across the elder Sig’s face. He didn’t need any help putting a good spin on my implications. “Thank you, Commander Myers, I will inform the General he will be contacted soon. I will see to it you have departure clearance.”

  Julio turned and waved to his assault teams. They headed into the guts of the freighter in search of hostiles. I was glad to see he had a smile on his face instead of the frown he came with. I hoped this would work out for all of us, and the outpost would never be the target of another attack. Tria, Coonts, and I cloaked. We followed the Sig troopers that were carrying the crate to our shuttle. They placed it in the hold and quickly debarked. We closed the doors and Klutch took us away from the outpost. He blended in with the commercial outbound freighter traffic. We tagged along until we reached the common jump point and entered hyperspace. Ten minutes into our transition, we dropped back into normal spacetime. Klutch made a course correction and jumped back into hyperspace in the direction of Alpha Base. We pulled the Scrun from the crate and put him in a med pod. Tria made sure the prisoner was locked inside. We took a cargo net and lashed the pod to the deck then grav-locked it down. The pod could not be opened unless we released the grav-locks and pulled the netting. The Troop Master double-checked our work, then we all settled in for some much-deserved sleep.

  Tria and I awoke eight hours later. We went to the shuttle’s galley and ate a fast meal. Coonts and Klutch were nowhere to be seen, so we went to the flight deck and quietly discussed the mission.

  Tria leaned over to me and seemed to be studying my face. She then took my hand and inspected it as well. I finally had to ask what was up. “Tria is there a problem?”

  “Yes, the Fusra Pus Virus is highly contagious and I am wondering why you are not showing the symptoms as of yet.”

  I gave her a big smile. “Perhaps if I were to itch your scratch again.”

  She made an unflattering noise. “Not likely Tarzan.”

  I shook my head thinking my whole crew was turning into comedians and I had no one to blame but myself.

  Tria quit horsing around and put a serious expression on her face .“We are going to have to speak with the Rugerian.”

  As usual, Tria seemed to be tuned in on what I was thinking. “Yes, it seems he has been keeping things from us. I have a feeling his answers to our questions were guiding our interrogation in a direction of his choosing. If there is an Omega Syndicate, he is no doubt a member. When we thoroughly question the Scrun Commander, we will have to pay the Rugerian a visit. If he decides to deflect our questions, I am going to make him regret it.”

  A racket from the flight deck entrance told us that Coonts and Klutch were awake and at their favorite pastime, arguing. When they saw us in the pilot’s seats they clammed up. Tria took my hand and pulled me out of my seat.

  When we passed Coonts and Klutch, Tria gave them a smile. “Flight decks all yours.”

  We went back to the cargo bay and Tria released the grav-locks on the prisoner’s med pod. I helped her pull the cargo netting off and stow it.

  She worked the pod’s controls and looked up at me. “He should wake in a few moments.”

  I nodded and pulled one of the deck chairs into the upright position. We put on our suit liners and stepped up into our armor. We went back to the med pod and looked down at the prisoner. His eye was open and he was taking in his location. He was probably wondering why he was wearing his pressure suit inside of a med pod. When he caught sight of us staring in at him, his memory must have reset. Terror filled his face. Tria popped the locks on the pod and jerked the Scrun out of it. She put him none too gently into the chair I prepared for him.

  I drew my fighting knife and twirled it a few times, showing off some of the tricks Tria had taught me. I looked over at Tria thinking she would be impressed.

  She just rolled her eyes and commed me on a discreet channel. “You should stop before you damage your armor. It might give the Scrun the wrong impression.”

  Everybody was funny around here, now Tria was too. I raised the knife up and threw it with considerable force into the deck. It partially penetrated the edge of the Scrun’s boot pinning it to the deck. The prisoner screamed, then looked down in surprise that it did not pierce his foot. Tria’s expression changed, and she gave me a nod of approval. I wasn’t about to tell her that I was aiming for the middle of his foot.

  I leaned down so my helmet was inches from the Scrun’s faceplate. He could see every detail of my war mask. When I was sure he was giving his suit’s sanitary systems a workout, I let him know how it was going to be. “I am going to ask you questions. If I have any doubt about your responses, your pain and misery
will be endless.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Coonts and Klutch suiting up. They must have seen us on the Cargo hold monitor. Apparently, they wanted to hear what the prisoner had to say as much as I did.

  The Scrun looked up at me and his eye narrowed. “You should kill me now because I will never answer your questions.”

  The Troop Master took exception to the Scrun’s tone. He smashed his armored fist down on his hand, crushing it. The Scrun let out a piercing scream.

  “My Commander did not say anything about death, only pain and misery!” Klutch yelled into the Scrun’s faceplate.

  I yanked my knife from the deck. “Hold his arm up.”

  Klutch jerked the Scrun’s arm up. “That was the start of the pain, and now we will get to the misery.”

  I drew my arm back to strike, and to everyone’s surprise, his attitude took a one-eighty.

  “What do you want to know?” He whimpered.

  I decided I would start with a simple question I already knew the answer to. It would be a good way of determining how we would proceed. “Who supplied you with the anti-matter weapon?”

  “A Grawl named Nasser,” He moaned.

  It was the truth as far as we knew. I gave him another test. “Who is Nasser?”

  “He is the head of security for the Omega Syndicate.”

  I moved on to another question that I was sure he didn’t know. “Do you know the location of Frontier?”

  “No, and I don’t think I ever will.”

  The slaver was correct on both ends of his answer. “Do you know an Ilor named Canik?”

  I saw the faintest reaction on the Scrun’s face. “Yes, he is a manipulator who sends anyone ensnared in his deceitful games, to their deaths. He would know how to find Frontier.”

  “How can I find him?”

  “I do not know, but suspect he is somewhere on Frontier. It would be a question to ask Nassar. It is my understanding they have a working relationship.”