A Gulf in Time

by Chris Kennedy

  “Yes, Manager Tichp,” one of the troopers said. “It shall be done as you order.” He turned toward the Terrans, saw where Calvin’s hand was, and aimed his rifle at the Terran. “Very carefully, take that out and lay it on the table, then step back. We are going for a walk.”

  Calvin looked at the CO, who nodded. “We don’t have the odds here,” the CO said.

  “Yes, sir,” Calvin said as he put his pistol on the table. “Master Chief,” he commed, “we’re coming your way, and we’re going to need a little assistance.”

  “The meeting didn’t go well?”

  “Not unless you call tossing us off the station into the planet’s atmosphere good, no.”

  “We’ll be waiting, sir.”

  * * *

  “Vella Gulf, looks like they want to play,” Master Chief commed as he stood up in the back of the shuttle. “Please send over the second shuttle!” He slapped the button to drop the back ramp. “All right, you heard the Lieutenant Commander, time to earn our pay. Combat deployment. Spread out and capture all the hangar bay exits. Go! Go! Go!”

  The troops raced out the back of the shuttle and hit the deck of the hangar bay running. The other races there looked up in surprise, then shock and fear. Most started running away from the deploying soldiers, although others froze in fear.

  “No one fires unless one of them draws a weapon,” Master Chief ordered. “Then shoot to kill. Fenn and Hogshead, you’re with me.” He led them to the hatch Calvin had left through.

  Yellow lights began flashing around the bay and a strange siren sounded.

  “Magnetic locks on and check your seals,” Master Chief said. He didn’t know if they could individually turn off the gravity in the hangar bay, but he was sure they could evacuate the atmosphere in it, and the easiest way to get rid of intruders would be to do just that—turn off the gravity and explosively decompress the hangar, blowing everyone out into space.

  One of the bear-like people approached the door with its paws up, and Master Chief moved to the side and motioned him through with a wave of his rifle. Like the rest of the bear-folk Master Chief had seen in the hangar, its fur was a light brown, and it had what looked like a leather tool belt around its waist.

  “Thank you, heehee,” the bear said as it passed.

  “What the hell?” Corporal Fenn asked. “Did that bear just speak English?”

  The bear giggled as the door shut behind him. “I am multi-talented.”

  “Was that the—” Corporal Hogshead asked.

  “Elf?” Master Chief asked. “Fuck! Yeah, that was Farhome, going to check on the boss, I’m sure.”

  “Should we go with him? In case he needs some support?”

  “At the moment, we’re following orders and staying here. Besides, anyone who messes with Farhome is going to get a lot more than they bargained for. I think we’d only cramp his style.”

  * * *

  Due to the size of the ant men, only four were able to get in the lift with the CO and Calvin. Even then, it felt crowded, and Calvin found the troopers emitted a smell like cinnamon he hadn’t noticed when they’d been in the lift with Manager Tichp.

  “What race are you?” Calvin asked the ant who’d pushed the lift button and seemed to be in charge.

  “No talking,” the trooper said.

  “Friendly folk,” the CO noted.

  One of the other troopers slammed the butt of its rifle into the CO’s stomach, and he doubled over in pain. “He said no talking.”

  The rest of the ride down was accomplished in silence. Two of the ants preceded Calvin and the CO out the door, then the two others motioned the Terrans to follow. As Calvin stepped out of the elevator, a bear-person who had been waiting there fell into step with him.

  “Hey, you! Stay away from the prisoners!” the head ant ordered.

  “Oops, bad me,” the bear said with a giggle. Calvin jumped slightly and turned to look at the bear. “Good to see you, heehee,” the bear said, holding out an oversize paw as if to shake.

  “You, too,” Calvin said, taking the pistol he’d palmed. “I’ve got front?”

  “As always, I have your back.”

  “What—” the CO started to ask as Calvin and Farhome exploded into motion.

  Calvin aimed and shot one of the ants in front of him through the head, while Farhome backhanded the closest ant to him. Calvin shot the second ant in front of him, who was just starting to turn back, then spun to find Farhome had tackled the second ant to the deck. A spike extruded from his fist as he punched the ant between the eyes, and the spike drove into the ant’s brain, killing it. The other ant behind them was just starting to get off the ground, and Calvin shot it in the head. It collapsed to the ground.

  “Jail break!” Farhome exclaimed, then he started giggling.

  “You find this funny?” the CO asked, waving his hand toward the dead troopers.

  “Not really, heehee. I just can’t help myself sometimes, especially under stress.”

  The CO shrugged. “I think it’s time we left.”

  “Yes, sir. I mapped out the route on the way in. I’ll go first; Farhome, you’ve got our six.”

  Calvin led the rest of the way to the hangar deck and found Master Chief and two troopers waiting at the hatch. The rest of the Space Force had the other hangar bay exits covered, and the second shuttle was just landing with the Ground Force. Master Chief handed Calvin his rifle as he entered.

  The CO turned to Calvin. “So, what’s your plan?”

  “My plan, sir?”

  “Yeah, I run the Vella Gulf. As the expeditionary force commander, what’s your plan for this station?”

  “I think we need to have another meeting with the administrator, sir, but I’d feel a lot more comfortable if you’d jump into that shuttle and head back over to the Gulf. I can’t imagine they’re just going to give us the station and everything we want until we kill a few people and break a few things.”

  “More than we already have?”

  “Yes, sir. It didn’t appear to me that the administrator was one to let underlings—which is obviously what he sees us as—tell him what to do.”

  “CO, Vella Gulf here,” the XO commed. “The stargate just went live, and a pod of some sort launched from the station heading toward it.”

  “Can you tell if there’s anyone in the pod?” Calvin asked.

  “Based on the Gs it’s pulling, it’s unlikely.”

  “I’d say destroy it, sir,” Calvin advised. “It may be a call for help, and I’d rather handle this ourselves without a hostile fleet showing up.”

  “Agreed,” the CO said. “Vella Gulf, this is Vella Gulf Actual. Destroy the pod and anything else that launches from this station toward the stargate. Move the ship to a better position if needed to intercept future launches.”

  “Aye, aye, sir. Pod destroyed. We’re moving the ship to interdict any additional launches. Vella Gulf, out.”

  “All right, Calvin, the show is yours,” the CO said. “I’m going to head back to the Gulf. Let me know when the administrator is ready to talk.” He turned and headed for the second shuttle, which was down and disgorging troopers.

  Master Chief watched the CO go. “Did I hear the lieutenant commander mention killing people and breaking things?” he asked when the CO was out of earshot.

  “I don’t see any other way to get the administrator’s attention. Farhome and I already killed four of their troopers, and I imagine they’re trying to figure us out before they rush us. I’d rather not kill anyone else, but I doubt we’ll have that option. Have the troops ready for when they come. If anyone armed approaches, kill them on sight. I’m going to call the administrator and see if we can work this out.”

  “You got it, sir,” Master Chief said as he walked off. He began moving troops around to cover the hangar bay entrances.

  “If people are going to rush us, I think I’ll go into the other shuttle and take a nap,” Farhome said. “I don’t want anyone mistaking me fo
r one of the locals.” He giggled. “And a nap would be nice right now. Wake me when it’s over. I want to have a serious chat with the administrator.”

  “The goal isn’t to kill the administrator; we want his help.”

  “Well in that case, wake me when it’s time to go back to the ship. Or if you change your mind and want to kill him. Either way, I’ll be on the shuttle.” He walked off toward the first shuttle.

  Calvin shook his head. Farhome was…Farhome.

  He turned and began to survey the hangar bay as his XO, Captain Paul ‘Night’ Train, strode up to him. If it was like every other hangar he’d ever been in—all the way back to when he was flying off wet-Navy aircraft carriers—there had to be a Hangar Bay Control or some similar facility to oversee the operation of the hangar. It only took him a few moments to find it—it was the big window two floors up with a large number of personnel staring down at them, while appearing to be talking and typing on datapads.

  “What’ve we got, sir?” Night asked.

  “We hold the hangar, but I’m guessing they’re about to rush us, directed by the people up there spying on us.” He nodded up to the window.

  “Want me to take them out?”

  “We need to make them go away, certainly, so they’re not telling their security forces where we’re positioned,” Calvin said. “All things considered, though, I’d prefer not to kill a lot of noncombatants.”

  “Got it,” Night said. “Dantone!” he yelled as he pointed to the window. “Can you get up there and scare off those people?”

  “Yes, sir!” the cyborg answered.

  “Good. Take Weinert with you and establish a perimeter up there so we don’t have anyone else spying on us.”

  The two cyborgs walked over to the bulkhead below the window and began scaling it with the magnets in their hands and feet. The people in the control room couldn’t see them coming, but as the cyborgs reached the level of the window, they began backing up from it. One person—a member of the dog-like race—pulled out a laser pistol and fired at Dantone. The weapon barely had enough energy to make a hole through the window; the remainder burned off some of his proto-flesh.

  “Commander Hobbs?” the cyborg asked as smoke curled up from the crisped section of flesh.

  “I saw it,” Calvin said. “You’re clear to fire at anyone armed.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Dantone held his position with one hand and his feet and aimed a heavy laser at the person firing at him. The dog-person fired again, with similar effects as his first shot, then Dantone fired. His laser didn’t have any problems with the reinforced glass of the window; the beam speared through it and then through the chest of the dog-person with the pistol. The rest of the people ran as Dantone and Weinert began cutting sections out of the window so they could access the space.

  Calvin nodded as the two big cyborgs entered the room. The station troops wouldn’t be taking that back anytime soon. He looked back to Night. “Might want to readjust our troops’ positions now that they can’t see where we are.”

  “Yes, sir,” Night said. He jogged over to Master Chief, who began rearranging the various covering positions.

  “Here they come!” yelled Corporal Pat Viebey, who was covering one of the smaller hatchways off the bay.

  “Light ‘em up!” Calvin said.

  The hatchway swung open, and a mass of at least six of the dog and bear people rushed out. Only one person had originally been at the door when the people could see into the bay, but two more had been added once the cyborgs had taken over Hangar Bay Control. One of those was Sergeant Jamal ‘Bad Twin’ Gordon, who fired a slightly-larger-than-grenade-sized round into the mass of them. The round detonated, flinging bodies in all directions. Viebey and Corporal ‘Bob’ Bobellisssissolliss—one of the T-Rex-like Kuji—began shooting the ones who were still moving.

  “Movement over here!” called Staff Sergeant David ‘Market’ Hirt.

  “Here, too!” added Corporal Joshua ‘Prince’ King.

  Hatchways opened and more of the dog and bear people flooded into the hangar bay, but they were met by troopers firing from cover, and they were quickly dispatched.

  “Main force coming up the hallway!” Corporal Fenn yelled.

  The main hatch opened to admit a force of the ants, who came in firing their lasers indiscriminately. Fenn and Hogshead both fired explosive rounds into the hatchway, shattering the creatures’ charge and ripping most of them to pieces in the confined area. The soldiers switched to lasers and shot the ones who survived the explosions, while a number of the creatures who hadn’t made it into the hangar bay turned and skittered off back down the passageway.

  “Want us to go after them?” asked Corporal Hogshead.

  “No, let them go,” Calvin said. “I think we’ve slaughtered enough of them as it is.” He leaned his rifle against a bulkhead.

  “You think that’s it?” Night asked.

  “I think that’s probably all their ready security force,” Calvin said. “They may be able to scrape together some other folks and might even be able to arm them, but I don’t think they’ll try us again without talking to us. No matter how little the person in charge values his folks, I doubt he’ll throw them away in another frontal assault. The only things he’s accomplished so far are to get a lot of his people killed and piss off Dantone.”

  “Well, if they don’t want to negotiate, you can just turn Dantone loose on them. A pissed-off cyborg can do a lot of damage.”

  “True, but I’m not ready for him to destroy engineering and cause this facility to fall from the sky. Not yet, anyway, and definitely not while I’m on it.”

  Night raised an eyebrow. “We’re going to drop this facility?”

  “I hope not.” Calvin shrugged. “It’s not really the best way to win friends and influence people, especially when we need their assistance. ‘Hi, I’m Calvin. I destroyed your trillion-dollar mining facility. How’d you like to give me a hand with something?’” He smiled. “He’s got three choices, as I see it—talk to me, try to evict us again, or flee to the stargate. As the Gulf is blocking the gate and the first effort to kill us didn’t turn out so good for him, my guess is he’ll want to talk to us.”

  Night nodded. “Makes sense. How long do you think it’ll take?”

  “About as long as it takes for the troops who ran away to report in.”

  “Lieutenant Commander Hobbs, Vella Gulf. I have a very angry administrator who’s trying to contact you. Patching him through.”

  Night chuckled. “I guess the runaways made it back.”

  A new voice came over the comm. “What is it you want?”

  “We’d like to talk.”

  “So you can make your demands at the point of a rifle? How brave.”

  “I was down here leading my men. That’s brave. I didn’t see you leading any of your forces.”

  “I am the administrator, not the security force manager. That is not my job.”

  “Well, here’s the deal. I’d like to talk with you, so you can either send Manager Tichp down here to bring us up to talk to you, or my force can come find you and bring you kicking and screaming down here. The manner in which we get together is up to you.”

  There was a pause, then he responded, “Tichp is on his way down.”

  “I guess he didn’t like Option B,” Night said.

  Master Chief nodded. “Too bad. I wanted to be the one to drag him down here.”

  Calvin shrugged. “You never know; you may get your chance. He appeared remarkably set in his ways—I wouldn’t be surprised if we have to kill a few more people and break a few more things in order to get his attention.”

  “So there’s hope?”

  “There’s always hope,” Calvin said with a smile.

  “Motion in the passageway!” Corporal Fenn called. “Looks like a single ant man.”

  “If he isn’t armed, let him in.”

  The creature walked in holding a datapad.

  “Ah, Manage
r Tichp, I presume,” Calvin said with a smile.

  “You know you’re dead, right?” Tichp replied. “When the message gets to corporate headquarters, they will send a force to kill all of you. Liltor Mining Company doesn’t play when it comes to industrial espionage and hostile takeovers, and the Mineral Cartel will back us on this. I don’t care what cartel you’re with; you are dead.”

  “This is neither espionage nor a hostile takeover,” Calvin said. “We don’t want anything here, aside from some non-proprietary information.” He smiled. “And if you’re waiting for your headquarters or your cartel to come and kill us, you’re going to have quite the wait—your message pod was destroyed.”

  “How is that possible?” Tichp asked. “Wait—your ship is armed? What are you, pirates? So that is it? You’re going to kill us all?” His eyes darted back and forth as if he were trying to decide which way to flee.

  “No,” Calvin said with a chuckle. “We aren’t pirates or anything like that. We are who we said we were the last time we talked.”

  “Fine,” Tichp said. “Don’t tell me who you really are. Not that it matters, since you have already killed off most of our security forces. I will take you to the administrator. Maybe you will tell him who you really are.”

  “That’s fine,” Calvin said, “but I’m not going this time without some backup.” He turned to Night. “Call down Dantone. I’ll take him and Master Chief with me, along with…Bob. Yes, I think that’ll send the right message.”

  “Go ahead,” Calvin said a couple minutes later when the group was assembled. “Take me to your administrator.” He smiled as Tichp skittered off. It didn’t appear that Tichp knew who he should be most afraid of in the group—the giant cyborg who had two holes in his skin through which you could see the underlying steel and mechanisms moving, or the shorter Kuji who looked like a mini-dinosaur, complete with a large mouth full of sharp teeth.

  “I’m coming, too, of course.” Calvin turned to find Farhome, who now looked like an Aesir.

  “I thought you were napping.”