The Jolo Vargas Space Opera Series Box Set

by J. D. Oppenheim

  And just like that the inquiry was over and Jolo was taken to a holding cell two levels down. There were guards at the entrance of the holding cells, each with short-range energy weapons. Each cell had concrete floors, smooth white walls and a clear energy field wall closest to the corridor.

  Jolo laid down on the cot and stared up at the white ceiling. What horrors awaited him on a BG prison planet? How could he have come so far to end up here? This was worse than the escape pod. At least in the escape pod he had some recourse. He could take some action. He could die trying to save himself. But this was something different altogether.

  He couldn't sleep. And it pained him to think of the girl. If he couldn't escape this how could he find her? Why wasn’t she in the Fed records?

  Jail

  Federation Home Word: Sol.

  Hall of Justice, Holding Facility, sub-level B.

  That night Jolo drifted in and out of sleep. It was cold and there was no blanket, and nothing but a hole in the floor for a toilet. There were no sounds coming from any of the other cells, so he figured he was alone. He thought to query the computer, but what would he ask: Who am I? Where am I?

  In the early morning he finally fell into a fitful sleep. His mind was full of fear and worry, and this crept into his dreams as well. He dreamed Jaylen was held by the BG in a prison. She was tired and pale, her lips a thin, tight line across her face instead of her usual smile. She looked skinny and frail and he wanted to help her. There were other prisoners.

  The big, shiny BG monsters were there carrying long poles. And they prodded the prisoners, shocks of energy flowing through their bodies, and they fell to the ground, writhing in pain. And then the dream changed and there were other creatures there. The BG were corralling tall, green humanoids into a large place surrounded by an energy field fence. It was dark at night there, with the funny trees again that he'd seen before, the ones with the three large leaves. They might have been nice in another situation, and another time.

  Jolo woke up because someone had grabbed his shoulder and was shaking him violently. He opened his eyes and there was a large dark figure standing in front of him. For a moment he couldn't tell who it was, but then he realized it was Barthelme.

  “How did you get here?”

  “No time for that. I'm the captain of a Federation boat. I have at least a few friends.”

  “Why are you here?”

  “Because you’re going to escape right now.”

  “Jolo sat upright in bed and tried to clear his head. How did you get past the guards?”

  “There’s no time for that. Are you ready to go?”

  “Yes,” Jolo blurted out. “But what about this collar?”

  “I'm going to cut it.”

  “But then everyone's going to know, right?”

  “Yeah, that's the tricky part. When I cut this thing you've only got about two minutes before the dogs of hell rain down on you. It'll probably be the patrol in the plaza. They're all regulars, they don't have any experience like you have. You should be able to get through them with no problems. They're all green.”

  “Uh. How my supposed to get through them?”

  “You are Jolo Vargas. Figure it out.”

  “No. I'm just some guy who can't remember anything. And they tell me that I'm Jolo Vargas, some guy who is a hero. But I'm just a guy who doesn't remember anything.”

  “Look at me right now.” Barthelme grabbed Jolo's shirt with both hands and pulled him close. The old man's face was red and he had a wild look in his eyes. “We were friends. And you always listened to my advice. Now I'm putting my life on the line for you. I'm putting my career on the line for you. I have a family.”

  “Well, then go. Don't risk it for me.”

  “You don't understand. You have to survive. This is bigger than either of us. You have to live. You have to be Jolo Vargas. You have to do it for the Federation. Things aren't going as well as they seem on the core worlds. And I fear something larger and far worse is on the way.”

  “I don't know if I can do that,” said Jolo.

  “You got two choices: A BG prison planet where they'll work you until you're dead. The whole time you’ll wish you were dead…” Barthelme reached into his jacket pocket. “Or this.”

  Jolo reached out and put his hands around the wooden handle of a gun. His gun.

  “Starting to feel like Jolo again?” said Barth.

  Jolo closed his eyes and felt the thing, the weight of it, the way the wood was cut. It fit perfectly in his hand and it was as if his arm was ready to go even if his mind wasn’t. Some small part of him turned on, came alive. Jolo stood up and went to place the gun in the holster, but there was no holster.

  “See,” said Barthelme. “Go now and be Jolo. Listen to me carefully. There's an old dump boat at dock seven about 4 km away from here. You've got to cover the ground on foot. You’ve got to get through that first patrol. Get to the boat on dock seven, bay twelve. It's an old trash boat. They won’t expect that. It's a scheduled run just like always. And that will get you off planet. I'll try to get you help after that, but the best I can do right now is to get you off this rock.”

  Jolo stood up and Barthelme held out his good left hand and they shook and said goodbye. Then Jolo stepped into the corridor, looked to the left: two guards were lying on the floor.

  “Wait,” said Barthelme. And then he took a large cutter from his bag and put it up to Jolo's neck. “The moment I cut this you got 30 seconds. Go out the door of the elevator and there'll be a guard waiting near the exit. Take him out then head down the elevator. Run straight across the plaza toward the trees on the other side.”

  Just before Barthelme cut the collar, Jolo grabbed his arm. “The girl, Jaylen Voss, do you remember her? She was under you in engineering on the Jessica.”

  The big man stopped for a moment, and slowly shook his head side-to-side. “No, I'm sorry, I don't remember her.”

  “How could you not?” said Jolo.

  Barthelme put his hand on Jolo’s shoulder. “Go now,” he said. And then he put the cutters up to Jolo's neck and snapped the collar off. Instantly the jail cells flashed red as the warning klaxon went off. Barthelme ran into the corridor, stepped over the two guards, looked back once, and again yelled, “Go!”

  Merthon

  Bakanhe Grana Homeworlds

  Warumon 5, Humanoid Synthesis and Production Facility

  Merthon ran straight for the birthing room the moment he got the news. There had been nothing to hope for in so long. Nothing to dream about. At night his mind was filled with nightmares about what cruel method the BG would put him and Jamis to death once the emperor no longer needed them. But at last there was some small triumph in his delicate plan that he had to share.

  He flew past several lesser warriors and mumbled apologies in his mangled Bakanhe hoping he’d said something to the effect of: “Minor emergency in the birthing room.” He found Jamis and nearly knocked him down.

  “He’s there, in Sol!” Merthon whispered.

  “Who?” said Jamis, not looking up from one of his beloved tanks. He was siphoning fluids into a vial for testing. Always testing. It was just like him to play coy and pretend he didn’t care. To pretend he cared about the creatures he was growing.

  His reply pained Merthon and put him on edge again. “Don’t spoil it, you Frog.”

  “Ok, then,” said Jamis cautiously. “What’s got you running your skinny legs all this way for?” He looked up from the tank and then their eyes met and they didn’t have to speak. Jamis knew.

  “Are you sure it’s him?”

  “Yes.”

  “He was in the hospital on Sol and there is to be an inquisition.”

  “That does not bode well, then,” said Jamis.

  “He’s there. He’s there, you fool. And it’s him. We chose him carefully. He will come.”

  “Hope is a dangerous thing in the pits of hell, my dear Merthon.”

  “He will come. He has to.”


  Jamis put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You’ve done well. But you must also consider the odds against us. Were it just the imbecile humans, that would be one thing, but the—” At this he stopped and lowered his voice. “The black bastards have sunk their alacyte claws into the Fed system.”

  Merthon was undeterred. He would not let Jamis, who was acting like his father, steal his tiny moment of hope and joy. But Merthon suddenly felt like a child trying to save his people by releasing a toy boat into one of the great Vellosian oceans.

  “I don’t even know if there was enough of him left,” said Jamis, pulling more water from the next tank.

  “Who are you talking to?” Merthon was now more offended than woeful. “Of course there was enough left. What kind of talk is that? I am a creator.”

  “Yes, and a brilliant creator is Merthon. But I fear you putting all of your hope into one human pulled from the tanks a tad early.”

  “He will come,” said Merthon, his face sad and beaten just like it was before the news came. “If there were anyone to tell, I’d tell them you were an ass.” And he padded off to his work in the birthing labs.

  Flight

  Federation Home Word: Sol.

  Plaza of the Planets

  Jolo stepped into the corridor still wearing the orange jumpsuit, the entire jail section flashing red and white. He walked towards the door to the elevator but before he got there a young Federation officer came running down the adjacent hall. He looked to be about twenty years old. He was holding one of the snub-nosed, short-range energy weapons designed for close quarters.

  The man saw Jolo and raised his weapon. Jolo stood frozen, the gun dangling loosely from his hand, almost like he didn't want to be holding it in the first place. Almost like he was ashamed to have it. A little part of him just wanted to go back into his cell and say he was sorry.

  The young man charged, pointed his gun at Jolo, his full intention to bring Jolo down. He had fear and desperation in his eyes and that made him dangerous. But he wasn't close enough yet for a good shot and Jolo knew it.

  Jolo's instincts took over. The young officer tried to get a shot off, but it was too late, Jolo jumped to the left and fired. His bullet hit the man's weapon and it exploded. The young officer fell backwards, and then, still somewhat stunned, got to his feet and looked at Jolo.

  Jolo raised the gun to the man's head. “Now take off your clothes. Quickly.” Jolo changed into the young man’s Federation blues and then told him to put on the orange jumpsuit.

  Jolo grabbed the man and pushed him into the elevator. At the ground level, there were two guards waiting at the front door.

  Instantly the guard wearing the orange jumpsuit started to run off to the side screaming he was Federation but the two guards at the door stunned him with their energy weapons and he fell in an orange clump in the corner. In the commotion Jolo ran out the door and into the plaza.

  Jolo stepped out onto the grass of the plaza and looked to his left and he could see the tree line that Barthelme had spoken about. He still had the gun in his hand. It wasn't Fed issue so he he hid it inside his jacket.

  Computer, pull up a map of the Plaza of the Planets.

  Instantly a map appeared in his mind. Computer, where are the docks closest to the Federation Plaza?

  The map in his mind zoomed in to an area to the northeast of his current location.

  Changing out of the orange jumpsuit may have bought him a little bit of time but now he had to move. He started at a full sprint right for the tree line across the Plaza but then thought better of it and went to the sidewalk and started walking. His uniform had prison guard insignia so he'd have to improvise if he ran into trouble.

  The Plaza was empty and he walked as quickly as he could without arousing suspicion. The sun was coming up. It was morning and the grass was wet with dew. The large trees above offered a little cover for when the drones came.

  He made it to the treeline with no problems, then he checked the map again in his mind. By now, though, the whole area was buzzing. He could hear the drones in the air, men were yelling. The warning klaxon half a kilometer away was still blaring.

  The docks were to the east. He’d have to cross a large park there with a small bridge. A service tram ran under the bridge that carried trash from one end of the city to the other. Jolo stepped into the park outside of the tree line cover. Now he was in the open again. A few steps into the park and suddenly a drone buzzed past his head and stopped.

  “State your name and serial number, soldier,” said a voice through the round ball, hovering a few meters off the ground. The drone emitted a scanner beam and a red horizontal line starting at his boots flashed up across his body. Jolo didn’t wait for the results. He put one bullet into the drone and it spun off wildly. He could still hear the drone repeating, “please wait for scan authentication.”

  Jolo headed quickly for the bridge. But four armed marines were double-timing it straight for him. They had full battle armor and one had a long range weapon. The others carried short range stun guns. They were 100 yards out but moving fast. Did they know who he was? He slowed to a jog, waving to them as he edged towards the bridge.

  The marines made it to the bridge first and blocked his path. Jolo stopped just far enough so the short range weapons couldn’t reach him, put his hands on his knees breathing hard. “I just came from the prison ward. There's been an escape, and we must locate him immediately. He's wearing an orange jumpsuit, though he may have changed.”

  The leader stepped closer. “Come forward and state your name and serial number,” he said. “And why are you not at your post?”

  “As I said, I'm chasing down an escaped prisoner. Now you boys can get out of my way, or you can help me.” The four marines stopped just for a moment, and Jolo thought he had them fooled, but then suddenly the marine in the back, the one with the long-range weapon, said, “look at his pants. They’re too short.” Suddenly all the marines were on alert.

  Jolo had to do something soon. The man with a long-range weapon had it pointed right at his head. Just then the drone that Jolo had shot earlier came buzzing in at an angle, and for a split second the marines took their eyes off Jolo, giving him just enough time to reach into his jacket and pull out the gun. He dove to the right and fired twice, taking out the man with a long-range weapon. He knew that his bullet couldn't penetrate the battle armor, but he could take out the weapon and the bullet would stun the man inside.

  Now there were three left. Jolo was standing twenty yards away, and he knew that the stun guns were close range only. Twenty yards wasn't gonna do much. They instantly ran towards Jolo just like the prison guard had done. Jolo took down the leader with two more shots, but then the closest marine fired his weapon and Jolo was knocked to the ground. The gun flew out of his hand into the grass near the walkway.

  Jolo was was done for. He stood up, weak kneed, stunned by the blast, and looked at the two marines. “Do you know who I am? I am Jolo Vargas. This is a mistake.”

  The two marines lowered their guns ever so slightly. Then the one on the right raised his again. “I'm sorry Captain Vargas, but we have to take you in.”

  “If you do that they're going to kill me. I'll die on a on a BG prison planet.”

  The marine kept his weapon pointed at Jolo, then told the other one to call in a med drone and to tell HQ that they had Vargas.

  Suddenly the second marine raised his weapon and fired it at the other marine. The other marine fell to the ground and was knocked out. Then the man took off his helmet. “Now you're gonna have to shoot me,” he said. “Just to make it look good.”

  “Why?”

  “You saved my father in Carnassus five years ago. Is there anything else you need?”

  “No. Just get a med bot out here for these boys. Oh, one more thing. Tell them I was headed west right before you got shot.”

  Jolo waited for the man to call headquarters and say that his men were down and he was chasing
Jolo west. Then he put his helmet back on and nodded. Jolo shot him in the chestplate and the man fell to the ground.

  Jolo ran across the bridge, accessed the map in his head, and headed straight for the docks. They were almost 1 km away off to the east. The sun was starting to come up and he could still hear the sound of men's voices and the drones buzzing ahead. He hoped they were heading west.

  After about five minutes he saw the ships at the edge of the docks. Jolo stopped an old man pushing a hovercart full of engine parts and asked him where dock seven was.

  “What's all the fuss about?” he said. “There's more drones in the air than usual. And I heard some odd sounds coming out of the Plaza.”

  “Nothing to worry about. They’re testing out new ground defense hover bots.”

  The man shrugged and pointed. “Head that way out towards those larger boats, and you'll run right into number seven. Fed boys usually don't go out there to seven. That’s the trash detail.”

  Jolo said thanks and headed off towards the larger boats. Soon he was at dock number seven. Sitting in bay 12 was a massive hulk of a ship. It was brown and covered with some kind of slime or coating that he had never seen before. It smelled horrible and was ancient, maybe even made from old world metal. He wasn't sure but he thought he was probably at the wrong place. He stood there looking at it, the energy weapon at his side. Drones were flying overhead so he crawled up underneath and wondered what to do next.

  Jolo stayed under the ship for a few moments but soon someone jumped down off the big ship onto the platform. All he could see was a thin pair of legs. “You gonna stay there all day? We got to go,” said a girl’s voice.