by Kal Spriggs
“Who?” Mel asked. She felt a dark suspicion, and she could feel her subconscious scream at her. She’d trusted someone, and that trust once again had been misplaced…
“He came to you first, he said. He thought he could just walk up to you. He even brought a pistol, so you could kill him for his crimes.” Rawn punched the deck, “He thought he could put his blood on your hands. He chickened out. He got face to face with you, and he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t admit that he took our parents’ lives. So he got a job with you instead.”
“No.” Mel said, her voice filled with horror.
“But the guilt, it ate at him. Even as he became my friend and your… lover.” Rawn rubbed a hand across his face. “The bastard… God, I wish I’d killed him when he finally got the courage to tell me.”
“But—”
Rawn's voice could have come from a robot, “Marcus Keller was born Jean Paul Leon, on New Paris. He joined United Nations Star Guard Intelligence Agency when he graduated from the Parisian Sector Fleet Academy. On his first mission as a senior agent, he took the lives of our parents and twenty seven other people in a bomb meant for a woman who never went into the restaurant.”
***
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Mel demanded.
Rawn looked away, “I tried to protect you.”
“Protect me?” Mel demanded, “You—”
“For all I knew, we’d never see Marcus again. I didn’t know we would until we showed up in that jail. You were so shook up from the loss of the Kip Thorne that—”
Mel scowled, “Did you sabotage Dad’s ship?”
Rawn sighed. He met her eyes, “Yes. I’d do it again too, for this opportunity.”
“For what opportunity!?” Mel shouted through the pain. A couple of the terrorists looked over their way.
Rawn placed a hand over her mouth, “Just shut up and listen, okay?” He sighed again, gave a shrug at the men watching. “Look, up until now, GFN’s only been a few terrorists. We’re a whipping boy for the United Nations Council. Someone gets too loud about sovereignty, a bomb goes off, a threat appears. The Guard say ‘oh no, those darned terrorists.’ The nationalists shut up. They get afraid of ‘radicals’ and they talk more calmly. Whenever we do accomplish something…” Rawn shrugged. “They downplay it, if they can’t keep it completely quiet.”
He smiled a hungry smile, “Those bastards can’t keep something like this quiet. This ship could ravage its way back and forth across Harlequin Sector. We’d have half of the Sector Fleet chasing it. Think what an opportunity that would be!”
“What?” Mel frowned. Yes, in theory, she knew, the ship could be very nasty. But it was damaged, she'd seen that damage with her own eyes. God only knows how long it can function without some serious repairs, she thought.
Rawn rolled his eyes, “You always were too goody two-shoes, too trusting. Think about it. You’ve heard the people back on Century talk; the Guard are claiming sovereignty over the whole Periphery. They seized Ten Sisters and then Choir, Scarecrow and Warner just last year. You’ve heard about the fighting on Amoria? They had a puppet ‘local insurrection’ that they backed with ‘volunteers’ from the Guard Army.”
Mel shrugged, “They’ve always been out to seize worlds—”
“They have become far more blatant. More arrogant. The Security Council abolished the General Assembly five years ago. Now even Member worlds don’t get a vote… just the big seven.” Rawn spat, “They squeeze everyone else, build up bigger forces, and crush anyone who dares to stand up.”
“We need the Guard, Rawn. What about the Culmor and the Erandi?” Mel shook her head, “The Erandi slavers are bad enough, but the Culmor, they nearly exterminated us four times, Rawn.”
“And twenty eight years ago, the Guard wiped out the humans that surrendered to them!” Rawn shook his head. “We could have made peace with the Culmor! What happened? The UNSC executed the Culmor diplomats! We can make peace with those outside threats.”
“Are you sure, Rawn? Are you willing to risk the survival of the human race on this?” Mel jutted her chin in the direction of the terrorist leader.
Rawn met her eyes and spoke with calm certainty. “I am. I believe that the Guard have to be brought down. That’s why I sabotaged the Kip Thorne. That’s why I’m trying to get control of this ship.”
“What will you do once you have it?” Mel demanded.
He smirked a bit as if she’d conceded him a point, “With this ship, like I said, we can really make the Guard start to sweat. Shake them up, show the Protected and Member worlds that the Guard aren’t as all-powerful as they say.”
“And how will you do that?” Mel asked.
He looked away, “People will have to die, Mel. Most of them in Guard Fleet. Some of them will be crews or passengers on the big shipping lines.”
“How will you get this ship to tell the difference?” Mel demanded.
“We’ve… got some resources,” Rawn shrugged. “Even as relatively small as we are, GFN, the real GFN actually has ties with a lot of worlds. Hell Mel, I’m actually an agent of Century, if I ever got caught spying or something, I’m a registered agent for them. Granted, the Admiral…”
Rawn shut his mouth, giving her a sharp look, “Got so eager to talk I started babbling.”
Mel frowned, Rawn had backed up his accusations with no concrete evidence. He had no proof, no substantiation at all. For all she knew, he repeated lies others fed him.
In her heart, she knew better, though. What he said tied into too many things she’d heard. He gave her a shattering and world-altering perspective. It left a sour taste in her mouth, an acid bite of failure, or knowing that once again, she trusted in someone foolishly. Even worse, she’d trusted in an idea, in the belief in the Guard, who had enough blatant flaws to make his accusations all the more telling. Moreover, Mel couldn’t justly accuse her brother of gullibility. He wouldn’t act, would certainly not take such drastic action, without confirming the truth himself.
Once again, she’d made a fool of herself. Once again, she’d failed. Worse yet, she’d failed to the point that her little brother had to save her.
Her little brother had to rub her nose in her mistakes.
“What do you need from me?” Mel asked, feeling defeated. She sagged against the wall, pains and aches forgotten as tears rolled down her cheeks. She didn’t know what was worse, how blatantly stupid she’d been, or how her naïve actions had nearly cost so many so much.
Rawn looked at her, his face grim, “I need to know if the others have another plan. If they’ve got any other way to destroy the ship. I need to know where they’ll go next, and what they’ll do.”
“You’re going to kill them?” Mel asked.
Rawn looked away. “We’ve lost nine men to your friends. Twenty when the AI targeted and destroyed the GFN ship. The men that are left… they’ll want revenge.”
“And your leader?”
Rawn’s eyes went to the larger man, “Colonel Michael Frost… he’s not a bad man. He’s a legend, in a way. The Guard say he’s a myth. I’ve carried messages to him before. I’m… well, I was the one who got the message originally about this ship from Giran. I had the brainstorm to hijack it and reprogram it.”
“I… I killed Giran.” Mel said.
“I know.” Rawn shook his head. “My fault. I should have told you. You wouldn’t have stopped him from killing Marcus then.”
Would I have? Mel wondered. It still seemed wrong to kill an unarmed man… even the man who’d killed her parents. “I also killed a man called Giles,” Mel said, shivering. “I didn’t mean to, he was with us. I shot at one of Fenris’ security robots. One of the bullets… it cut an artery in his leg… he bled out…”
Rawn put his hand on hers, squeezing them in comfort, “I’m sorry, Mel.”
She sniffed and looked away. She must seem so weak. She hated herself, even as she felt comforted. She sniffed again, then cleared her throat. “You know about Bob
, then?”
Rawn shrugged, “Colonel Frost said something about a Robert Walker.”
Mel shrugged, “Sounds right. He said he’s a spy for someone, he wants to stop Fenris from destroying Vagyr.”
“So do we,” Rawn grunted.
Mel raised an eyebrow.
Rawn scowled, “Look, sis, I’m not to big on this thing scorching Vagyr out of existence. Some of the others don’t care too much, but only as long as the Guard get the blame.” He met her gaze the, his eyes intent, “The others went with the plan to blow yourselves up to stop the ship?” Rawn asked.
Mel nodded, “It was Strak’s plan.” Her eyes went to the mutant’s corpse, “You knew he was a mutant?”
“A mutie?” Rawn looked revolted. “No, I didn’t. I knew he and Brian were hiding something though. I thought Brian was a spy for the Preserve, he seemed to know so much about the ship… that’s why we took him.”
“And Marcus worked for Guard Intelligence,” Mel said the words. They left a foul taste in her mouth. She felt her lips curl up in disgust.
“I know Stasia hid something too, did she let on?”
Mel shrugged, “She’s a good hacker. She doesn’t seem to keen on killing herself. Other than that… no. I don’t think she’s dangerous, she hasn’t touched a weapon this whole time.” She paused. “Oh, and Marcus is a rex addict.”
Rawn rolled his eyes, “Oh, I knew that. I even knew that before he left.” Rawn rubbed his face again, “So you know that Robert Walker and this Giles guy were the only ones who were spies? And that Brian and Strak hid that Strak was a mutie?” Rawn’s lip still curled when he said the last part.
Mel just nodded.
“Did they have a back-up plan? Do you know where they plan to go now?”
Mel frowned, she took a deep breath, then paused. She cocked her head and peered at him, “You’re going to kill them?”
“Mel, do we have to—”
“If anyone kills Marcus, it has to be me,” Mel said. Her voice came flat and emotionless. “Which means I have to be there.”
“Mel…”
“Give me a few minutes… Tell your boss I’ve had a change of heart, tell him I’ve got a plan.” Mel straightened her spine and grimaced at the throb of pain in her chest. She didn’t know which hurt more, the pain of her own stupidity, or the aches of her body. “Tell him he won’t get any help from me unless I get to stare at Marcus’s face through the sights of a pistol.”
***
“So that’s your plan?” Colonel Frost stared at her.
Mel wondered at his name. His pale blond hair and cold blue eyes certainly fit, perhaps too well. He hardly seemed the patriotic hero that Rawn suggested. “My men and I wait for you to lead them to us?”
“Yes, that’s my plan.” Mel shifted her shoulders slightly, and hid a wince at the throb of pain. “If I get them into that compartment, it’ll be a shooting gallery for you and your men. You’ll have plenty of cover, concealment, an overhead position…”
“I understand the tactical realities quite well,” Colonel Frost snapped, “Probably far better than you do.” His cold eyes went to the row of nine bodies lined up near the furnace. “I also know the strategic realities. If I position my men there… you’ll know exactly where we are.”
Mel stared at him. She had spent the majority of her time in thought on how to make this man trust her. Finally, she decided on the truth. “The most important thing to me right now is… dealing with Marcus Keller.” She let her anger show, “He killed my parents, he’s lied to me, betrayed my trust. He’s run away from the things he’s done. The time has come for his judgment.”
Colonel Frost eyed her. “Revenge is a powerful motivator. Even so… I don’t want you to get squeamish at the last minute.”
She smiled coldly back at him, “Ask Giran about how squeamish I get.”
CHAPTER VIII
Time: 0600 Zulu, 15 June 291 G.D.
Location: Fenris, Five days from Vagyr
Mel limped down the corridor, stopped to slump against the wall. She’d thought she hurt before; she knew better now.
She took a deep breath. It hurt, it hurt a lot, but it also gave her the strength to push away from the bulkhead and stagger on. Her hair hung loose, the band that held it back discarded. It hung down in her eyes and obscured her face. It made her feel oddly… liberated. She carried her helmet in her hand, grateful for the cool air of the ship.
She came to a familiar intersection. Her fingers dug into the wiring of one of the doors, so familiar at the task she didn’t need to even look. The door opened.
Mel limped down the corridor, and stopped before an open hatch. Inside lay the same empty storage room they’d come to first for refuge. Here she’d held Marcus while Bob cut the rex implant out of him. Here she’d helped to draw up plans for the destruction of the Fenris.
There were voices within.
The concealed pistol tucked into the belt at her back felt heavier than she thought it would. No going back, now, she thought. That would upset her whole plan.
She limped through the doorway. “Hi, what’s up?” she croaked. The surprise and total shock on the faces of her former companions made her smile. That’s good. I didn’t think I’d ever smile again.
Marcus spoke first, walking slowly towards her. His eyes were big, his face filled with emotion, “Mel… my God, Mel. You’re alive!”
She nodded curtly at him, and winced at the pain, “More or less.”
He stopped several meters away, a look of puzzlement on his face. She guessed his instincts probably warned him something had changed. He probably had excellent instincts, she knew. Best to put them all off guard. She sagged against the wall, the look of total exhaustion not at all feigned. “I hoped you’d be here.”
“What happened?” Brian asked. He looked slightly skeptical.
Mel couldn’t have that. They needed to believe her, right up until she made her move. She really could not afford to have them think she worked for GFN.
“I’m not sure. They shot me, but the body armor stopped the bullets. I passed out…” She let out a slight moan as she sank to her backside and rested her back on the wall of the storage room. “I think the shock paralyzed my diaphragm. I came to… I don’t know, a few hours ago. They took my weapon, and my gear. They didn’t strip me… even left the body armor on. I think they thought I was dead.”
“Your brother?” Marcus asked. He took a step nearer.
She watched him under her bangs, thankful for the hair that hid her face. She didn’t want him to see what lurked in her eyes. She didn’t want them to see the anger that came to her face when he asked that question. It sounded like he wanted to know if her brother lived. The truth, she now knew, was that Marcus wanted to know if her brother had told her the truth yet.
She shook her head, “I don’t know.”
He seemed to relax slightly. To someone else, it would have looked like he felt relief that she lived. To her suddenly awakened mind, she knew he felt relief that she still lived in ignorance. She sagged a little more. “Strak’s dead.”
“We knew,” Brian said. “We thought you were too.”
“I… got him into the forge. I thought it better than… well better than leaving his body lying there,” Mel let actual tears fall down her face. Strak might have been a mutant, but he at least died doing something he believed in. He’d died trying to save people who despised him.
Brian closed his eyes. “Thank you. You couldn’t have known it… but he actually told me he wanted to be cremated.”
“Oh,” Mel said. She felt a bit of comfort from that. She didn’t tell him of the nine GFN bodies that had gone into the forge at the orders of the icy Colonel Frost. He probably would have disposed of the mutant the same way, but she’d asked anyway. Then again, she couldn’t tell them that. “Well, what’s the plan now?” Mel asked.
The other four looked around sheepishly.
“Wait, there is no plan?” Mel asked,
waspishly. Here she was, with so many arguments and so many carefully planned strategies All of it for nothing.
It figured. “All right,” she slowly stretched her left leg out and grimaced at the dull throb from her right hip. She didn’t need to look at the bruise there. She already knew how bad it looked. “Okay, so I’ve had some time to think.”
Bob chuckled, “Some time to think?” He shook his head.
She shrugged and then bit back a yelp of pain, “We’ve got time. We’ve got six days or so before this heap of scrap gets to Vagyr. We can’t cause one big failure… not without the antimatter core. We can cause a bunch of small ones.”
“What do you have in mind?” Stasia asked.
Mel looked over at her. She studied the other woman from behind the shelter of her hair. Was it just Rawn’s warning, or was there something hiding behind the woman’s mousy facade? Was it desperation or some concealed determination that set her jaw?
Her mind raced through a dozen possibilities. Like Bob’s actual mission here, Stasia’s hidden secrets, if they existed, remained unfathomable.
She spoke, slowly, using the pain in her voice to hide the deception. If they thought her in serious pain, if they over-estimated that pain, it would give her the greater advantage when she needed it.
And she knew she’d need every advantage possible to pull this off.
“This ship needs three things to fight, well, three things we can readily sabotage.” She let out a pained breath, “Power, weapons, and engines.” She felt along her ribs, not in a search for pain, but in search for one place she didn’t hurt.
“We know that,” Brian said. “This ship’s got so many secondary and back up systems—”
“Yes, and a lot of them got knocked out. It coasted for a century on its sub-light warp drive. The FTL warp drive has to be cobbled together from shoe-strings and spit.” Mel grunted as she found a particularly painful spot. Well, she knew she had two cracked ribs. “We start knocking out secondary systems, and the ship won’t be at peak efficiency. We take down some weapons systems and the ship will start to take notice.”