Survivor Skills

by S. E. Smith

  La’Rue nodded at him and quickly pulled on the uniform. He noticed that she kept on her own black boots. They were similar enough not to draw too much attention. The guard’s boots would have been far too large for her.

  “Step outside, La’Rue. I’ll be right there,” Sergi said, lifting his hand and gently caressing her bruised cheek.

  La’Rue smiled at him even as she aimed the laser rifle downward. She pulled the trigger, striking the guard in the chest who had stealthily begun to rise behind Sergi. Turning to look over his shoulder, Sergi watched as the dead man slid down to the floor once more, then looked back at her. He shook his head and gave her a crooked smile.

  “You have captured my heart between your blood-thirsty little hands,” he admitted with a wry grin.

  “Trust me - my hands aren’t nearly as blood-thirsty as Kella’s, so you’d better be thankful. How are we going to find your friend?” she asked, sliding the helmet over her head.

  Sergi’s grin widened. “The same way I found you. I removed the tracking device I attached to you earlier and placed it on Julia. I just need to contact H to help guide us,” he replied.

  “H! General Landais probably has the teams tearing my freighter apart as we speak,” she groaned.

  Sergi shook his head. “I’ve been listening. It would appear your freighter has disappeared from the landing bay it was stored in,” he said.

  “H activated the digital camouflage paint,” La’Rue murmured with glee. I love that little robot. As long as they don’t bump into the ship, it should reflect the surrounding area.”

  Sergi nodded. “None of the soldiers want to be the one to tell General Landais that the freighter has gone missing. I guess he has a habit of killing the messenger,” he said, looking her over before he nodded in satisfaction. “Let’s go. H, I need you to show us the way.”

  Sergi pulled the small locator device from his pocket and looked at it. A holographic image appeared. Three levels up there was another set of detention blocks. He memorized the diagram and searched for the best route to get there. It looked like they didn’t have much choice – they would have to act like they were a part of the General’s crew.

  “Are you ready for this?” he asked, turning to look at her.

  “You go. I’ve got your back,” she said, lifting up the laser rifle.

  Sergi grinned and pulled on his helmet. Scanning the outside corridor, he stepped outside the detention cell. La’Rue followed him, sliding the key across the pad to lock the door on the now dead occupant.

  Roan Landais grunted as another blow hit him in the stomach. The next blow to his jaw sent him to one knee. He bowed his head and spit out the blood.

  “I should slit your throat for your betrayal,” Coleridge coldly stated, circling around his son.

  Roan didn’t respond. He knew his father well enough to know that the man wasn’t looking for a response. This was about control, power and intimidation. He wanted Roan to feel fear and to cower.

  “No words?” Coleridge menacingly chuckled. “You had no words when I slit Calstar’s throat, either.” He mocked his son.

  Roan kept his head bowed, his eyes focused on the black boots walking around him. His fingers curled into fists as he swallowed back his angry retort. He felt a brief wave of grief at the death of his grandfather. He quickly pushed the feeling away. Now was not the time to be distracted by mournful emotions. His father would sense it and use it against him.

  Pain exploded through his ribs when his father kicked him. The toe of the polished black boot caught him between two ribs near his left lung. The force of the blow knocked him sideways and took his breath away. His hands clenched behind his back and he forced himself to continue rolling with the momentum until he was back on his feet.

  “Where did they come from, Roan?” Coleridge demanded. “How many more are there?”

  Roan lifted his head and stared back at his father, his face an expressionless mask. He could see the rage in his father’s eyes building until the other man finally snapped. His father reached for the staff hanging at his side. The staff was a symbol of the Knights of the Gallant – one of honor – not of the evil and hatred that stared back at him now.

  Roan’s body stiffened in surprise. His legs trembled as intense pain swept through him. He looked down to see one end of the staff glowing as it speared into his side. His lips parted on a silent groan when his father twisted it.

  “You still have nothing to say? I am almost proud of you, Roan. I wonder if your Ancient Knight will be as defiantly silent as you when I do the same thing to her,” his father murmured near his ear.

  Roan’s jaw tightened, and his lips pressed into a hard, straight line. He wanted to protest, he wanted to rant at his father, but he was afraid if he parted his lips and said anything that he might lose control. His vision blurred when his father twisted the glowing shaft once more before he wrenched it out. Roan could feel the heated surfaces cauterizing the wound as it slid from his flesh.

  Beads of sweat glistened on his brow. His father stepped back and motioned for the officer standing by the door to open it. Roan remained frozen in place and upright.

  “When you hear the screams, I want you to remember your mother,” his father taunted before he turned on his heel and walked out of the maximum security detention cell. The door slammed.

  Roan’s knees gave out the moment the doors slid shut. He sank to the floor before falling to the side as the darkness began to overtake him. He fought to remain conscious. Forcing his fingers to relax, he felt along the inside of his shirt sleeve for the small master key he had programmed, secreted there and always kept close to hand.

  He worked it free. Carefully manipulating the narrow card, it took several tries before he was able to release his wrist restraints. Pulling his arms around, he rolled onto his back and took several deep and painful breaths.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Sergi motioned to La’Rue to fall into step behind an eight-member formation. They marched in time with the group before peeling off and turning in another direction. They had managed to make it to the third level unnoticed. Now, all they needed to do was find out exactly where Julia was being held.

  He was about to stop and access H again when he saw General Landais step out of a cell almost in front of them. A wave of cold rage washed through him when he saw the blood on the other man’s hands. He also recognized the silver inlaid rod the man was holding – it was a staff of the Knight of the Gallant Order.

  Sergi had heard enough from Josh, Ash, and Hutu to know what the staff meant to those looking up to the Knights of the Gallant Order. It was a symbol of good, justice, and hope. Such a staff did not belong in the hands of a ruthless, cold-blooded tyrant.

  Coleridge stopped outside of the door next to the one he had just exited. Sergi watched as the man retracted the staff, then attached it at his side before he looked over to where they were standing. Coleridge motioned for Sergi and La’Rue to approach. “You two will accompany me.” He turned to the officer standing behind him, not even waiting for a response from them. “I want a report on the freighter. Find out where the other Ancient Knight is located. I want him in custody before we depart Plateau’s orbit. Once he is secured, set charges to destroy any remaining floating islands and deploy underwater charges. I want this planet wiped clean of every living soul,” Coleridge ordered.

  “Yes, General Landais,” the officer said with a respectful bow of his head before he turned on his heel and strode away.

  Sergi kept his eyes lowered as he approached Coleridge. If his expression and coloring didn’t raise warnings that something was amiss then not much else would besides him taking off his helmet and shouting ‘Surprise!’ at the top of his voice. For a split second, Sergi was actually tempted to do just that.

  He needn’t have worried. Coleridge had already dismissed the two of them as being mere insignificant subordinates. Sergi patiently waited while Coleridge adjusted the cuffs of his uniform before lif
ting his hand with the key to the scanner outside the door. Sergi watched as the doors slid open.

  Julia serenely sat on the end of the single bunk in the room. She rose to her feet, her wary gaze following Coleridge as he entered. Sergi heard her soft hiss when she noticed the blood on his hands and the sleeve of his jacket.

  “What have you done to Roan?” she hotly demanded.

  “My son knew better than to betray me. He will die by my hand for his deceit,” Coleridge replied.

  “Betrayal? What are you talking about?” Julia demanded with an icy look of disapproval as she tilted her head back very slightly and looked down her nose at Coleridge.

  Sergi had to admit, Julia did not look in the least bit intimidated by the General. She had that cool, rock-hard mask on her face that he remembered her wearing whenever some government official threatened to close down the Gliese 581g project. She couldn’t cross her arms, but she didn’t need to at the moment. Her expression and no-nonsense tone of voice demonstrated very effectively that she wasn’t going to cower before the man standing in front of her.

  “I want to know everything you told my son,” Coleridge ordered, ignoring her question.

  Julia lifted a delicate arching eyebrow. “My name is Dr. Julia Marksdale. I am a Mission Specialist for the Project Gliese 581g interplanetary exploration team. That, sir, is the limit of the information I gave your son and the limit of the information I will give you,” she replied in an icy tone.

  “I want to know how you got here, where you came from, and if there are any others coming,” Coleridge growled.

  Sergi suspected that Julia’s cool, calm demeanor was beginning to ruffle the General. It was obvious the man was used to intimidating others and not having the tables turned. Unfortunately, Sergi wasn’t sure if Julia was aware of the precariousness of the situation.

  “We arrived on a spaceship. That is the typical mode of transportation for interplanetary travel and explorations. In order to explain where I came from, I must know where I am in relation to my home world. Since that is not information I currently have at my disposal, the question of where I came from can’t be calculated. As to your final question, the answer is yes. There are others coming,” she answered. Julia’s gaze briefly flickered over Coleridge’s shoulder toward Sergi. Calmly she returned her indifferent eyes to the General’s face. “In fact, I believe they may have already arrived,” she continued with a sweet, serene smile.

  Sergi saw Coleridge frown. The other man partially turned his head to look over his shoulder at him. Their stares locked for a fraction of a second. Sergi saw the moment when the realization hit the General that he wasn’t a Legion soldier and sank in. Coleridge’s hand had begun moving to his side, reaching for his weapon.

  Sergi had already raised the laser rifle in his hand. He smiled when he saw Coleridge’s eyes widen in shock. A loud groan slipped from the General’s lips and he collapsed to his knees, his hands clutching his privates protectively.

  It took a second for Sergi to understand exactly what had just happened. He looked over in time to see Julia step back and lower her booted foot to the floor. Her lips were in a tight frown and her eyes flashed with anger.

  She leaned forward and grabbed the front of Coleridge’s uniform to keep him from falling face first onto the floor. Sergi heard La’Rue’s soft snicker. He definitely needed to remember never to antagonize the quiet, almost mousey science nerd.

  “A man should never treat his son the way you have. Now, what have you done to Roan?” Julia hissed, bending forward so that she was in Coleridge’s face.

  “I… will… kill… you,” Coleridge painfully hissed.

  “Good luck trying,” Julia said, pushing Coleridge away from her and looking up at Sergi.

  Sergi struck the butt of his laser rifle against Coleridge’s temple. The other man had once again been reaching for his laser pistol at his side. The General fell sideways in an unconscious heap. A deep gash spilled blood down onto the floor and it began to pool around the man’s head.

  “You blew my cover,” Sergi informed Julia as he bent to pull the laser pistol out of Coleridge’s hand.

  Julia raised an eyebrow. “He had blood on his hands and shirt. I had no desire for him to add my blood to them,” she retorted, holding out her wrists. “Could you please remove these?”

  “I’ll unhook them, but I’ll need you to keep them around your wrists,” Sergi stated, kneeling to pat down Coleridge to see if the man had anything that they could use – like a master key to get off the damn ship.

  “I’ll release them,” A smiling La’Rue offered, stepping forward with the key she had taken from the other guard. “I’m La’Rue. That was a really effective kick, by the way.”

  “Julia Marksdale. Thank you. Mei taught me that move,” Julia confessed before she looked at Sergi with a slightly unsteady smile. “Is she alive? Did… Did Ash and Josh make it?”

  Sergi’s expression softened. “Ash and Josh are alive and well. Josh is helping to lead the war effort against the Legion. Mei survived. Ash and Kella have gone after her,” he said.

  “What is the plan to get out of here?” Julia asked, looking down at the man lying unconscious at her feet with a look of utter disgust. “We have to find Roan. We can’t leave him here.”

  La’Rue shook her head. “The General Roan Landais? There is no way we are helping him. He is just as bad as his father. Let them kill each other,” she said with a shudder.

  Sergi saw the stubborn look come back into Julia’s eyes. He’d seen it a hundred times when they were training and during the course of their journey. When Julia made up her mind, there would be no changing it – no matter how dangerous their situation might be.

  “I won’t leave him. His grandfather saved my life. The last thing Calstar asked of me was that I help Roan,” Julia insisted, looking back at Sergi. “I promised him, Sergi.”

  “I’m pretty sure he is next door,” Sergi conceded with a sigh.

  La’Rue turned to glare at him. “You do know that the man she wants us to help is General Roan Landais, who is a general of the Legion. There are only two other men that I know of who are feared as much as he is – and they are both related to him,” she argued.

  “She made a promise, dusha moya. How can I tell her no?” Sergi asked, looking at her with a mixture of pleading and teasing.

  “Argh! I hate it when you look at me like that! If he so much as twitches wrong, I’ll put a disintegration disk on him,” La’Rue hotly vowed.

  “And I will press the activation unit’s button,” Sergi reassured her.

  In the next instant, La’Rue raised up the laser pistol at her side, aimed and fired a shot into Coleridge’s chest. She glared at Julia when the other woman hissed in surprise. Sergi couldn’t help but think that La’Rue was the most beautiful woman in the universe and the perfect woman for him.

  “Let’s get out of here,” La’Rue said, just as the door opened behind them.

  Sergi and La’Rue both turned and raised their weapons to fire. La’Rue’s loud curse mixed with Julia’s. He reached forward and grabbed the bloodied man barely able to stand in the doorway. He grunted under the man’s weight.

  “We need to get off this ship,” the man said, looking blankly down at his father. “What happened to him?”

  “I kicked him in the balls, Sergi knocked him in the head, and La’Rue shot him,” Julia succinctly clarified, stepping up to wrap her arm around Roan Landais’ waist.

  “Sergi? La’Rue?” Roan muttered, looking at Sergi with a frown.

  “It is a long story. I suggest I tell it to you once we are off of this ship. You wouldn’t perchance have any suggestions as to how we can do that, would you?” Sergi inquired.

  “As a matter of fact, I do,” Roan replied through clenched teeth. “I just need someone to access the main computer frame.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  La’Rue gritted her teeth to keep from cursing. If they were smart, they would hav
e left Roan Landais dead on the floor next to his father. Instead, she was returning to the room with a maintenance cart so that they could transport his body in it.

  Fortunately, lady luck was currently being nice and staying on their side. The large maintenance cart had been left down the corridor. La’Rue had answered the terse questions from the single guard at the area’s central control room. She explained that General Landais had requested that some soiled materials be removed.

  “The Ancient Knight soiled the bedding,” she stated, unable to think of anything else.

  “Get it cleaned up. I don’t want to have to do it,” the guard had growled.

  La’Rue muttered under her breath as she guided the cart back to the detention cell. She looked around before opening the door and entering the room. A glance around showed her that Roan was now lying on the bed with Julia leaning over him, carefully wrapping the wound on his side.

  “We need to get a move on. The guard will be changing soon. Right now, the one manning the post there is too stupid and too lazy to be bothered with checking what is going on. We might not be so lucky with the next one,” she warned.

  “This is the best I can do until we can find some medical supplies,” Julia said, rising to her feet and helping Roan stand up.

  “Do you have a lock on my freighter?” La’Rue asked, walking over to help Julia guide Roan to the cart.

  Sergi nodded, pocketing the device. “Let me help you,” he softly ordered when Roan released a low hiss of pain.

  “I can do this,” Roan said with a determined shake of his head.

  La’Rue watched as the Legion General climbed into the maintenance cart and folded himself into its confines. She had to admit that she was impressed that he had not only accomplished it, but had done so without making a sound.

  A second later, Sergi was helping Julia into the cart as well. Once Julia and Roan were inside, La’Rue closed the top. Opening the door, she looked out both directions before she guided the cart through the door and down the corridor. Sergi followed behind her a short distance away.