The Apex Warriors

by Marc Stevens

  “Be ready to go over the rail if they discover us. Take a shot if you can get a good target.”

  I got three acknowledgments from my team.

  I commed Klutch. “We are going to need at least one of them to answer questions. On the count of three Troop Master. One, two, three!”

  We fired our spikes in unison. The effect was quite dramatic. Both the targets were ripped from their weapon’s controls and sent flying against the shuttle's support ribs. As fate would have it, the zero gravity was going to work against us. Both of the dead Grippen careened off the ribs and went over the rail. Their momentum made them spin around just above the deck below as their arms and legs became entangled. It was a ghastly sight and I thought I heard Klutch snickering at the unfortunate turn of events. The large gory holes in the shattered helmets defeated their cloaking capability. Dark purple blood was gushing unimpeded from their wrecked skulls, and it was painting perverse abstracts on everything around them. Two of the Ilor wobbled and went down. If I had to guess, I would say they passed out from the little show we just put on. Tria and Sael shot both the Grippen standing behind them after their Ilor shields unexpectedly collapsed. The mercenaries were pinned to the bulkhead and dangled limply from their helmets. The other two Grippen had good survival instincts and were quick to recover. They each pulled an Ilor against them and put their backs to the hull. The two freed Ilor decided they were standing way too close to their captors and joined their compatriots on the deck.

  We could plainly see the cloaked Grippen in our HUDs. They started waving their weapons wildly and one of them called out in Galactic Standard over the open comms channel. “We will kill the Ilor if you do not show yourselves.”

  I personally didn’t give a damn if they did, as long as I had one to question. If they wanted someone to point their weapons at, I was their huckleberry. I grabbed the rail and gave myself a shove downward and obliged them. I uncloaked about five feet in front of them. I don’t know what the Grippen thought about my war mask, but both of the Ilor’s legs went slack. I was the last person in the universe they wanted to see. A grim smile crossed my face when I saw that the Grippen mercs had to physically hold the Ilor up on their feet to shield themselves. Two of the Ilor lying on the deck started wailing like they were in pain or something.

  “Let me save you some trouble,” I commed them back in Galactic Standard.

  In total disregard of my Earthly morales, I dispelled the Grippen merc’s myth of safety by shooting one of the Ilor through the head. The spike killed both the Ilor and the Grippen. I had no qualms about it. As far as I was concerned, the traitorous Ilor were just as responsible for the terrorist attack on Outpost 9765 as the Scrun were. The last Grippen jerked his weapon up to shoot me but had no idea Klutch had worked his way up beside him. The Troop Master yanked the weapon from his grasp and gave the merc three impressive licks to the head before I could stop him. The alien’s helmet started discharging atmosphere like a fire hydrant.

  “Klutch! I had some questions I wanted to ask the Throgg.”

  The Troop Master uncloaked and gave me a goofy grin. “Sorry Commander, I thought his helmet would be sturdier than that.”

  I let go of the weapon and Klutch made a show of examining it. “They should have made their helmets out of whatever this is made of, it doesn’t have a scratch on it.”

  I rolled my eyes and shook my head thinking the Troop Master wasn’t being very sincere. I heard Tria call Justice over our group comms as she went to collect the data siphon. She told him to come alongside the shuttle and open the hangar door. He acknowledged the call and told us which side of the shuttle the Legacy was on. We gathered up our prisoners and Klutch made a hole. We shoved the five Ilor through and followed after them. Justice snatched us all up with the tow beam and dropped us in the hangar. Coonts and Klutch secured the prisoners in the brig. I told Justice to destroy the shuttle and move on to the next one. I imagine the intestinal fortitude of everyone aboard the battleship was getting tested right at the moment. Even if they had working sensors they would not be able to detect the Legacy or our stealth attack drones. Seeing one of the shuttles being picked apart by multiple undetected foes and then destroyed afterward was not going to be a confidence builder. Maybe by the time we finished up with the other shuttle, we would have more than a few mercenaries willing to talk to us.

  As we approached the second shuttle Justice gave us a warning. “Commander, I am detecting some unusual fluctuations from the shuttle’s anti-matter containment vessel. I surmise the occupants are tampering with the containment field.”

  I knew that anti-matter was notorious for going boom in a big way if you screwed around with it. Before I could comment on my thoughts, Sael gave me hers.

  “Commander, they are most likely rigging the energy cell to explode.”

  I had already figured out that little jewel of information on my own but still nodded to her politely for her conclusion. If my chances of dying were as good as the occupants of the shuttle, I would be in the mood to take some of my enemies with me.

  “Justice, I think we are going to pass on the second shuttle. Please slag it and move on to the battleship.”

  Justice nailed the shuttle dead center with the Legacy’s beam weapons. Only dust and trace gases marked its passing. In a blink of an eye, we were making a close pass by the battleship. Justice confirmed my suspicions that he was giving it a thorough scanning.

  “Commander, I am detecting power sources on one hundred and twelve armored combatants. They are gathered in the hangar bay. I am also detecting two much larger power source emanations. They are moving in conjunction with the powered armor.”

  Sounded like mounted weapons to me, and my strike team already knew how I felt about those.

  “Justice please move one of the drones back into the hangar. I would like to see what the opposition is up to before I decide what to do about it.”

  “Affirmative Commander.”

  A live feed appeared in the lower half of our helmet displays. It was a drone’s eye view of the battleship’s hangar bay. Hangar bay was no longer a fitting description. The place looked like a scrapyard. The fried remains of two shuttles were scattered about the deck. It was also obvious the drone had started a huge fire when it severed the energy conduits. In the back of the bay near the bulkhead were two medium-sized mounted weapons. The weapons were probably for suppression of suborbital spacecraft, but I imagined they could be handy for a variety of mission profiles. They had multiple barrels and shields that made a yellowish glow around them. They were working their way through the debris of the shuttles. Just behind them was a throng of cloaked soldiers that had an interesting array of shoulder-mounted heavy weapons that were not cloaking capable. It made the fools obvious targets. Whoever was giving the orders must have thought that the weapons would be an effective deterrent against boarding. In reality, it was going to make boarding that much easier, because everyone carrying a weapon was about to be dead.

  “Justice, please show them the error of their ways.”

  Our HUDs momentarily whited out as the drone unleashed a three-second discharge from its beam weapon. The right to left slash took out everything in its path. There was now a gaping four-foot-wide rend that spanned the hangar deck. We could easily see the star-filled void through the hull. The shot trashed the atmospheric retention field and artificial gravity generators. The contents of the hangar were purged out into the void. If the surviving occupants of the ship did not understand the message we just sent, then they all deserved to die.

  “Justice, open a comms channel, I want to talk to them before we take further action.”

  “All known Unicom channels are active Commander.”

  “Attention on the battleship!” I called in Galactic Standard. “If you turn over Glock and his Command staff, I will let the rest of you live. Failure to comply will result in the death of you all.”

  I figured on a vessel the size of the battleship, it would take
a little while to work up a mob mentality. If the crew was anything like the pirates we had fought in the past, it would be everyone for themselves. I did however expect some kind of answer within fifteen minutes or we would take further action. The timer in my HUD counted down and fifteen minutes came and went without an answer. At nineteen minutes my patience was gone.

  “Justice, pick out some points of interest and test the accuracy of our rail cannons.”

  Justice acknowledged my order by ventilating the hostile ship. He started just forward of the wrecked hangar and worked his way through the lower spaces. The ship’s lower decks were taking on the appearance of a sieve when we got a comms message.

  “Cease fire! Glock and his bodyguards will not surrender. They have taken refuge in the combat information center. It is just aft of the bridge and down one deck. We cannot defeat the security measures or force our way onto that deck. I can assure you there will be no resistance from the surviving crewmembers. We are retreating to the galley amidships and have laid down our weapons.”

  “Justice can you get some scan returns from the lower spaces?”

  “Yes Commander, the hull breaches are giving me limited information. It appears that whoever commed you, was speaking the truth. I am detecting numerous personnel rapidly moving to the center of the ship.”

  I turned to my strike team. “It looks like we are going to have to go and get Glock. Top off your munitions and check your weapons, we leave in twenty minutes.”

  My crew headed for the ready room and I lagged behind. When Tria saw this, she slowed and waited to see what I was up to. I stopped at the hatch to the brig because I knew she would come looking for me if I did not show up in the ready room.

  “Is there a problem Nathan?” Tria asked.

  “No, no problem. I just wanted to ask the Ilor some questions before we boarded the battleship. I guess I just want to make sure it is necessary. Even if the voice on the comms was telling the truth, I would like some corroborating evidence to back up the claim that Glock is aboard that ship.”

  Tria nodded and we activated our war masks. We went to the first cell in the brig and Justice cleared the enclosure wall. The Ilor inside was pacing back and forth but froze when he saw Tria and me staring in at him. I felt that some intimidation and taunting might loosen the Ilor’s tongue.

  “It was foolish to think you could hunt me. I cannot begin to count the races that have tried, only to find themselves in your unenviable position. You should have figured it out when the Rugerian that called himself the Collector did not return. You cannot bribe or bargain with me, you can only run and hide. Now that you have tried that and failed, your Masters are going to realize that their fates have been sealed just like yours.”

  Tria and I turned to leave and the Ilor plastered himself against the enclosure wall. “Stop! I will tell you where you can find the mercenary, Glock! The crimes he has committed make my petty collusion insignificant in comparison.”

  I froze in my tracks. The son of a bitch could have said just about anything else, and I would have kept walking to the next cell. The piece of scat stating that his part in the mass murder of thousands on Outpost 9765 was a petty crime, seriously pissed me off.

  I called Justice on a private comms channel. “Clear the enclosures and put the video of the battleship up on the bulkhead. I want all the prisoners to see and hear what I am doing.”

  I turned back to the Ilor then pointed at the bulkhead where the video started playing. “As you can see, I already know where Glock is. That makes anything you say to me worthless in comparison to what he will tell me.”

  Justice didn’t need me to say open the door. He opened it as soon as I extended my fighting hook. The Ilor backed away begging and screaming for his life. The memories of the beast that once inhabited my brain, flashed through my consciousness. I thought I heard the faintest of cackles as I slashed savagely at the murderous criminal. The Ilor’s body was severed from shoulder to hip as it fell into separate pieces. I stalked out of the cell only to find the members of my strike team standing silently with Tria. No one said a word.

  I went to the next cell and the Ilor held his hands out in front of himself. He slowly backed up into the corner of the cell.

  “My name is Trantor Lux. Rollor Minkin who is in the far cell, and I, are guards that were hired at the Exchange to protect members of my race you have already killed as well as these others.” He said pointing to the cells next to his.

  “For your sake, I hope you have something more interesting to say than that,” I said in the Ilor language.

  The Ilor started stammering and shaking his head. I could see his eyes through his pressure suit faceplate. They were wide with terror. He suddenly waved his hand at the other prisoners. “We were to turn the three from Outpost 9765 over to Glock and a representative from the Omega Syndicate.”

  That comment made me pause. “Who is the representative from the Omega Syndicate?”

  “I do not know his name, but do know, he is an Ilor of high standing. He was going to pay each of us half of a million credits when we turned them over to him.”

  I looked at the other two Ilor in the cells. If the guard was giving me the straight story, then the other two prisoners were high up on the food chain. Why else would the Omega Syndicate give a scat about them or risk exposure coming out here?

  “Who are these two, and why would they warrant the Omega Syndicate’s time?”

  The Ilor pointed at the second cell down. “That is Brimund Bruns, he is the emissary of a powerful arms dealer named Canik. It is said, he can have anybody he chooses killed without questions from anyone.”

  He pointed to the cell of the Ilor I just killed. “That was Pomar Trella. He was the former head of security at my people’s Guild on Outpost 9765. When we were hired, he told me that Brimund’s duties on Outpost 9765 were to coordinate with a Scrun mercenary group called the Legion of the Chosen.”

  Now we were getting somewhere. Bond Connery’s intel source hit the jackpot this time around. We now had someone that might be able to lead us to Canik. When I finally get my hands on that slippery bastard, he was going to die a very painful death.

  “You have my interest, if you continue to prove your value you might get off this ship alive. I hope you have a good explanation for why were you being used as shields by the Grippen?”

  “It was subterfuge. We had no idea who had attacked us. The Grippen mercenaries were ordered by Brimund to do it. We would have never been harmed by them. They were just the shuttle crews. It was thought if whoever boarded the shuttle saw us being held prisoners, we would be freed or kept alive as hostages and ransomed.”

  It was a hell of a story and would have been hard for the Ilor to make up on the fly with me standing over him. I tended to believe him. That kind of quick thinking made Brimund Bruns a very shrewd operator. I was surprised that the Grippen went along with it because they had to know they would be the first ones targeted.

  Trantor Lux was getting very nervous at my silence. “I know you wonder if I tell the truth. You should know that I don’t think the deception was Brimund’s idea.”

  “If it wasn’t his idea, then whose was it?”

  Trantor Lux slowly pointed at the next cell over from his. I turned and looked at the Ilor in the cell. If his gaze was a laser, Trantor Lux would be crispy as bacon by now.

  I stepped in front of Trantor so he would only have to look at me while he was talking. “Who is he?”

  Trantor’s voice was almost a whisper. “We only know him as Harlon. He never leaves Brimund’s side and does not speak to anyone but him. Pomar told me to stay clear of him. I took his word for it. I assume he is Brimund’s aid, but the other guards say that he is Brimund’s assassin. When we were first attacked, Harlon took Brimund aside and they had a discussion we could not overhear. Right after that, Brimund ordered the Grippen mercenaries to hold us hostage. He told them they would receive two million credits each when this was over.”


  Trantor Lux didn’t know it yet, but he was on his way to earning his freedom if the story checked out. I turned my back on him and commed Justice. “Blackout the other cells and kill the audio.”

  “Affirmative Commander.”

  When the enclosure blacked out, Trantor seemed to relax a little. “Who was the Ilor I killed on the shuttle?”

  “Bilken Straub, he worked for Pomar. We heard them talking. He is a starship maintenance engineer. His specialty is anti-matter tech.”

  Any remorse that I might have felt for whacking Bilken, was now dispelled. There was a good chance he designed some of the bombs that the Tibor and Scrun terrorists were going to use back on Outpost 9765.

  I pointed to the video feed Justice put up on the bulkhead. “So, as far as you know, Glock is on that battleship and there is a representative of the Omega Syndicate with him?”

  “I swear to you, that is the information I was told prior to leaving the Exchange. I can think of no reason I would be lied to unless they planned to kill me and the other guards.”