Modulus Echo

Home > Fantasy > Modulus Echo > Page 20
Modulus Echo Page 20

by Toby Neighbors


  And while Le Croix would prefer to die than to be held as a prisoner to waste away or be tortured to death, the alien in his doorway had to expect the possibility of an attack. The alien would be ready, and Le Croix could wait for a better opportunity to strike back at his captors.

  The creature made a soft barking sound, and to Le Croix’s surprise, a mechanical voice was emitted from somewhere on the creature’s body.

  “Stand up,” the alien said.

  Le Croix stood, resisting another urge to charge the alien. He rose to his full height and held his head high. The last thing he wanted was to show any sort of weakness to the alien.

  “What are you called?”

  Le Croix didn’t want to answer, but he didn’t see the harm in sharing his name. And if he could set the aliens at ease by cooperating, he might have more luck launching a surprise attack against them at some point.

  “Luc Le Croix,” the major answered.

  “I am Grubat. What are your people called?” Grubat asked.

  “Humans,” Le Croix said.

  “How much of this galaxy do humans control?”

  Le Croix would share general information, but anything he felt could be used against the Imperium was strictly off-limits. Revealing anything about their control of the galaxy was not a good idea, so Le Croix didn’t answer.

  “Did my inquiry not make logical sense?” Grubat asked.

  The strange barking and growling noises were the alien’s native tongue. Le Croix wasn’t surprised that the alien had a translator, only that they had developed it so quickly. Perhaps they weren’t from as far away as they seemed.

  Yet looking at the creature, Le Croix knew it was not human. Grubat had robotic legs, not merely prosthetics. They moved like organic limbs, and there were other mechanical implants. The alien had something sprouting from its round chest and covering one shoulder. Its arms seemed normal, or at least the natural limbs. And the head was its own, only shrouded by a mechanized headdress with long, black tendrils that moved almost like snakes. Grubat had no nose, but two large eyes, and its mouth protruded slightly in a canine fashion.

  “You refuse to answer,” Grubat said. “That is understandable. Are you a warrior?”

  “I’m a major in the Royal Imperium military,” Le Croix said.

  “I do not understand,” Grubat said.

  “Yes, I’m a warrior.”

  “And your implants, they are a sign of your greatness?”

  “My what?”

  Grubat waved a stubby, fingered hand at Le Croix’s legs.

  “Your implants... There.”

  Le Croix looked down. The lower portions of his legs were gone, and in their place were his prosthetic feet.

  “I lost my legs in combat,” Le Croix admitted. “They were not removed by choice.”

  “Your people... Humans... They do not improve their physical bodies?”

  “In some ways we do,” Le Croix said. “But we do not take on mechanical improvements. That is unnatural.”

  Grubat seemed to think about this bit of information for a while. When the alien looked up again, its tendrils seemed to stand out like hair exposed to static electricity.

  “How long do humans live?” Grubat asked.

  “I’ve answered your questions,” Le Croix countered. “How about you answer some of mine. What are your people called?”

  “I do not take orders from slaves,” Grubat said.

  “I’m no slave,” Le Croix said.

  “You are a warrior, but you have been defeated.”

  “I may be down but I’m not out.”

  Grubat once more seemed to struggle with the translation. The alien growled a low, menacing sound that rumbled from deep inside Grubat’s chest. He showed his teeth, which were pointed.

  “You are a coward,” Grubat finally said. “Why do you resist?”

  Le Croix felt his pride welling up like the pressure in a volcano. It took all his willpower to hold himself in check. He had not been called a coward since he was child, and even then, he had proven his tormentor wrong. Yet Le Croix wasn’t sure what the alien’s motivation for insulting him was.

  “I am no coward,” Le Croix said.

  “You use weapons that kill,” Grubat said. “Weapons that harm from a distance. How is that not the act of a coward?”

  Le Croix wasn’t sure how to answer that question. He’d never thought of his weapons as being cowardly. But he remembered that the aliens he’d seen carried close combat weapons that looked like exotic axes. They had launched bladed weapons at him in the transport that was captured by one of the alien ships when Le Croix was rescuing the royal family, but his assault rifle had made quick work of the aliens who tried to stop him.

  “All my kind use weapons that fire from a distance,” Le Croix said. “It doesn’t make us cowards.”

  Grubat’s tendrils seemed to wiggle in response to Le Croix’s statement. He growled again, and the translator spoke.

  “We shall see.”

  Grubat turned suddenly and left the cell. Le Croix expected the door to shut and lock him inside again, only it didn’t. The door remained open. Le Croix moved to the exit and glanced out. Grubat was walking away down the corridor. Le Croix looked in the opposite direction and saw sunlight shining into the narrow hallway from an open hatch.

  Le Croix seized his opportunity and sprinted for the exit. His metal feet pinged against the deck plates, and he expected to feel the sudden pain of a blade in his back at any second. Yet there was no attack. Grubat didn’t even call for help as Le Croix fled.

  At the hatch, which was the same wide cargo ramp he’d been led in through, Le Croix raced outside. There were aliens all around. Most were busy with other tasks and simply ignored him, but a few moved toward him. They were unarmed, with no armor, but each had some type of mechanical prosthetic. Le Croix finally realized what was happening. He was being tested.

  The sense of freedom was strong in Le Croix. He was so close to escaping the aliens, and yet he knew instinctively that running away was the wrong thing. The aliens were testing his courage, or perhaps just hoping to learn how he would fight. Either way, he stopped and waited at the bottom of the cargo ramp for the three approaching aliens to close on him.

  When the nearest of the aliens was only a few feet away, Le Croix launched himself at the creature. He moved quickly, lowering his shoulder and throwing all of his weight into the unsuspecting alien. It dropped, but Le Croix stayed on his feet. He was trained in hand-to-hand combat and could fight from the ground, but once he was off his prosthetic feet, it was hard to get back up without some way to pull himself up. Better, he decided, to stay upright than to risk taking the aliens to the ground.

  The next creature heaved a powerful roundhouse punch toward Le Croix’s head. The major ducked below the strike and countered with a punch of his own. Le Croix drove his fist into the alien’s body. The blow landed and would have knocked the air from a human’s lungs, but the alien seemed to absorb it without taking any damage. Le Croix was surprised but kept moving. He slid to his left, and when the alien followed, Le Croix struck hard with the edge of his hand against the alien’s neck. Once more, the alien seemed unfazed by the blow, but as Le Croix pulled his hand back, he knocked the creature’s headdress loose. The alien howled and staggered back.

  Le Croix was just turning toward the third attacker when the alien struck with a massive punch that connected with the side of Le Croix’s head. The major was knocked backward and fell hard, his vision narrowing to a small point for a split second. He managed to shake off the effects of the punch as sparks appeared in his vision and pain lanced from his jaw up past his ear and around the back of his head.

  There was no time to think about what might have been injured. Le Croix’s mind disconnected from the pain as the alien dove on top of him. The creature was big and much heavier than a human, but also less flexible. The alien raised a metallic fist in the air, obviously intent on smashing Le Croix’s face w
ith his robotic arm. But the major swiveled on his back, raising his hips, and throwing one leg over the alien’s thick shoulder. With all his strength, Le Croix pressed down with his legs and pulled back on the alien’s arm. He had one leg across the alien’s chest, and one across its throat. He arched his back, driving the alien backward and down. The mechanical arm was pulled back, but there was no chance of injuring the limb in a traditional arm bar. Instead, Le Croix raised the leg that was stretched across the alien’s throat, then kicked out with his metal foot.

  The curved, flexible prothesis smashed into the side of the alien’s head. There was a sharp crack, and the tendrils on the alien’s headdress fell slack. Le Croix released his opponent as the alien yelped in pain. Instinctively, the two fighters rolled away from each other, but just as Le Croix got free, the first alien landed on his back.

  Le Croix squirmed, trying to turn around or even get enough space to fill his lungs with air, but the alien was too heavy. Le Croix was gasping for air when the alien struck him hard in the back of the head. The blow was unexpected and strong, yet it was the rock on the ground where his head was pounded down that did the damage. Le Croix had been in combat many times. He had been shot, cut, beaten, and even had his feet blown off, but none of that compared to the pain of the rock puncturing his eyeball. Le Croix screamed in pain, writhing in agony as blood and optical fluid flowed down his face. Fortunately, a second blow to the back of his head knocked Le Croix unconscious and ended his sudden, terrible torment.

  Le Croix never saw Grubat watching the fight from the open hatch. He had seen the human give up the chance to run for freedom. The Krah chieftain had expected the prisoner to run like a coward, but instead he had fought and done well against three of Grubat’s Yorts. They were young and inexperienced, but they were of the Warrior class. It shouldn’t have taken three of them to defeat the human.

  “Take him inside,” Grubat said. “Have the workers see to his injuries.”

  “Yes, my lord,” the Yort who had knocked Le Croix senseless said. “It shall be done.”

  Grubat turned from the open hatch wondering about the humans. They might be a more imposing enemy than he had first thought. He needed to see what he could learn from the other prisoner. But before he could go to the prince’s cell, a Yarl on the bridge called down that the En’Galla had returned through the portal. Grubat’s interrogation would have to wait. His son was back with news from the empire, and Grubat hurried back up to the ship’s bridge.

  Chapter 41

  It took almost seven hours to make the jump from the Yelsin system to the Skopes binary star where the Brimex Station was located. Ben had sent a message using the Confederate channels but had no response when they came out of hyperspace. He didn’t know if the rebels had people on the station, or if some were on their way. The Confederates were nothing if not paranoid, which made Ben nervous.

  He and Kim had slept six of the seven hours, while Professor Jones manned the bridge. They were all back at their stations as the Modulus Echo dropped from hyperspace and approached the enormous space station. Even the royals who had slept in the guest quarters of the upper deck had come down with Staff Sergeant Visher, who didn’t look pleased. Ben wasn’t sure if the wily soldier was upset at the idea of exposing the royal family members to rebels, or because he’d been assigned to guard duty. Since dropping off the rest of the royal family on the cruiser that was ordered to deliver them to Mersa Prime, the queen and Duke Simeon had caused no problems. They stood behind the duty stations, watching Ben and the crew of the small ship as they cautiously approached the space station.

  “You know we’re still wanted,” Kim said. “There could be a dozen ships planning to capture us as soon as we dock on the station.”

  “That order was rescinded,” General Pershing said in a matter-of-fact tone.

  “That’s great if the bounty hunters got the message, Kim insisted. “Those types shoot first and ask questions later.”

  “You were wanted alive,” Pershing said. “Take comfort in that.”

  “What ship are we on?” Duke Simeon asked. “I didn’t know the Imperium still offered rewards.”

  “The Modulus Echo is wanted for attacks on the Royal Imperium Fleet,” the queen said coldly.

  “You mean...” the duke let the thought trail off.

  Ben could only imagine what the heir to the Royal Imperium throne was thinking. The Imperium Fleet had never lost a capital ship to the rebellion until the Echo came along. Ben liked to think that they had only been involved in an actual battle, and their job had simply been to act as a decoy until an unexpected battlecruiser appeared. They had fired missiles in that fight, destroying the refueling station in the Bannyan system, and the resulting explosion had destroyed the battlecruiser. It had all been captured on video and then widely distributed to show a rebel victory in the fight for independence. Nothing else had actually resulted from their actions. They had been chased into a black hole, which destroyed an Imperium ship of the line, and they were attacked in orbit above Torrent Four, where the flux shield had been used to deflect direct fire from an armada of ships that caused panic and resulted in several losses. Still, Ben didn’t think the actual facts had much bearing in the minds of those loyal to the Royal Imperium. Fleet resources had been lost, and the Echo was present, which made her the natural focus of their outrage.

  “This is the ship the entire Fleet has been chasing?” Duke Simeon said. “Well, we caught her, I suppose. That’s a victory of sorts.”

  “There’s been a lot of disinformation,” Ben said. “We aren’t fighting anyone, and this isn’t a warship?”

  “Every traitor in the history of our species has said as much,” the queen said.

  “Now isn’t the time to hash through all that,” Pershing said. “We have two objectives here. The first is to make contact with the Confederacy. The second is to get the parts we need to get the flux shield working properly. Let’s stay focused, people.”

  “We’re being hailed by the station,” Nance said.

  “Put it on the speakers,” Ben said.

  There was a burst of static, then a voice sounded on the bridge’s hidden speaker system.

  I repeat, this is Brimex Station Space Control to approaching Kestrel class vessel. Please engage your transponder and state your business.

  “They don’t want us docking,” Kim said.

  “And why is that?” Duke Simeon said. “They’re a rebel installation, aren’t they?”

  “No,” Ben said. “Brimex is claiming neutrality.”

  “But selling weapons to both sides,” Kim added.

  “They’re war profiteering,” the queen said, obviously angry.

  “That’s true,” Ben said. “But they don’t want to anger either side. The last time we were here, they told us we weren’t welcome back.”

  “So why try to meet here?” Pershing said.

  “Because it’s neutral ground,” Ben said. “We can overcome the admin’s issues with us as long as we have money. And the Confederates won’t be giving up much by agreeing to meet with us here.”

  “Alright,” Pershing said. “Get us a berth. Do whatever it takes.”

  Ben nodded, feeling the pressure in his chest, which had been building since they came out of hyperspace, ease just a bit. He pressed the button on his console and spoke in a loud voice.

  “This is Ben Griminski of the Modulus Echo,” he said. “I need parts for repairs to the ship. We have money.”

  There was a pause before the Space Control on Brimex Station gave a reply.

  That’s a negative, Modulus Echo. We don’t do business with pirates.

  “They think you’re listening,” Kim said with a chuckle at the irony. “They have no idea.”

  “Brimex Control,” Ben said into the coms system. “Please check your updated Imperium registry. We are no longer wanted by the government, and we have credits to spend.”

  There was another pause.

  “The
y better find the orders you sent,” Kim said. “Otherwise, we might be out of luck.”

  “It was posted to the Nav Net,” General Pershing said. “Processing can take time, but a station of this size should have priority notification.”

  Ben agreed and guessed that Brimex had more than just the standard notifications. The Brimex Corporation was a massive conglomerate that operated right on the edge of the Royal Imperium’s laws. He had no doubt that their industrial espionage included keeping tabs on the government’s secret networks.

  Modulus Echo, this is Space Command, please follow the coordinates we are sending and dock your vessel in berth S18.

  “Trajectory is in,” Nance said.

  “I see it,” Kim said. “Moving to dock the ship.”

  Ben pressed the button to engage the ship’s communication system again. “We have the coordinates, Control. Thank you.”

  There was no reply from the space station, and Ben honestly didn’t know what to expect. Working with the Confederacy was like being prospective members of a secret club. He could send them a message, but only on open networks, and never to anyone directly. And he never knew if they were going to show up, but they always seemed to do exactly that. Someone would appear, even when the Echo wasn’t trying to reach them.

  “Sixty seconds,” Nance said.

  “Rotating the ship,” Kim said. “Can you bring up the stern vid feed?”

  Nance hit a few buttons and the video feed from the ship’s rear-facing cameras was displayed on the bridge’s screens. Brimex Station was a massive complex with huge solar sails that caught the heat from the system’s twin stars. That heat powered a massive complex that was part factory and part city. The docking arms were huge and could accommodate ships of any size. Brimex had begun as a solar power manufacturing company, but it had diverse interests in weapons technology and shipboard systems for interstellar vessels. Ben wasn’t sure if he could find a wave generator among the myriad offerings by the company, but it was his best bet.

 

‹ Prev