Death
A great, hairless and generally naked mass of humans had gone to a common cafeteria to wait patiently in line at the food dispensers. Keenan was grossed out at the muck pouring out, a mushy substance that people either ate or drank, depending on their disposition, but he didn’t want to stand out so he took it anyway.
Whenever he had drifted away from the crowd, someone would query him as to his assignment. He sensed his time running short and felt the need for urgency, but he saw no way he could leave without being seen, and he struggled with both the urge to get moving, and the need to keep his feelings muted. These feelings had already raised flags from those nearer him, so Keenan simply waited with the group until he saw his opportunity. It was now evening of the first day he arrived, and he fought the urge to think about Mike, John and Jane.
‘Focus.’
As soon as everyone had finished eating, they got up and proceeded out of the room, passing an equal number of people that were coming in as they exited. The two files were going in opposite directions, and Keenan couldn’t understand why until he noticed his group working its way to a dormitory, a single room filled with mats stacked in bunks. The room was clean and well kept but the mattresses had obviously been slept in. Each person went randomly to a mattress, and Keenan felt the one he chose still warm, obviously just vacated by someone they had passed a few seconds before.
‘Focus.’ He breathed deeply, in and out, and lay down. Within seconds, a woman came to his mattress and mentally projected the thought, “I’m ovulating. Mate.”
Keenan hid his surprise and tried responding with the thought, “I’ve just mated,” but she seemed confused.
“When?”
Keenan realized his mistake. He would have been working, not mating, which means he was capable of mate again.
“Yesterday, but I sustained a temporary injury to my penis. Tomorrow I should be capable,” was all he could come up with.
The woman seemed satisfied, and got up and went to the next male to repeat her command. He couldn’t believe the lack of human emotion he was seeing. Others in the room were also mating, but it was quickly over and they then went to sleep. He thought about the mattress he was on and felt revulsion.
‘Focus.’
Keenan waited until he found his chance. Everyone had quieted down and had fallen asleep. He quickly got up and made his way quietly to the exit, but was queried by someone near the door.
“I need to defecate,” was his only reply as he exited.
Working his way silently down the empty hallway, he made it seem as if he was exactly where he should be. Nearing the intersection, he called up a mental schematic of the compound he had been drawing up in his head and worked his way toward the obvious large area that had not been explored earlier, where he figured they had whatever they were hiding.
As he continued, he encountered more and more people busy in their assigned tasks. Some queried him, but he simply said he was performing his duty.
Finally, as he neared a large double blast door, a sentry there asked him why he was trying to enter.
“Reports have come in of a possible infiltration.”
“Why has there been no general warning?”
“The reports are so far unsubstantiated. It would be a waste of resources to interrupt activity until reports can be confirmed. I was assigned to confirm them.”
The sentry was doubtful, so he persisted. “By which entity?”
Keenan saw the clear mental image of a human who was obviously in some sort of control in the sentry’s mind, and he projected the thought back.
“Prime.” Seconds passed as the sentry’s mind worked out the issue. As he was warned he would once he ate the food, Keenan picked up the thoughts: ‘Prime is not to be disturbed as she mates with entity 405. Order can only be confirmed when she un-copulates and joins the hive once again.’ “Proceed.”
‘Focus. Breathe in, breathe out.’
Walking through, the image that greeted him almost took his breath away. A massive, black, disc shaped craft rose in front of him. It was far bigger than any of the WF ships they had ever constructed. The surface of the ship shimmered and parts of it seemed to disappear as he continued to walk towards it. It was obviously made of similar material Keenan had seen on the new experimental fighter in Base Arctica. He could see the usual defense weaponry and loading portals, but Keenan couldn’t see any ship bays, unless there was one on top.
He turned on the implanted visual recorder and panned the object, focusing on the unusual detail – hundreds of small, round openings in the craft’s surface that penetrated deep, their interior lost in darkness. Each one was about thirty centimeters wide. From there he zoomed in on the countless docking clamps on the outer perimeter of the disc, designed to hold fighters.
Keenan couldn’t understand why the ship was so big, or so lightly protected for that matter. Did they have new shields? “It can’t be that simple. I’m missing something,” he said to himself. He knew he should leave now, but he had to find out what made this ship so special.
Had Keenan known, it would not have been necessary, and if he had left, he would have saved his own life.
***
Jane had done remarkably well. Her division was in charge of loading supplies into the large black craft, and she volunteered to deliver the supplies from the loader to their individual storage areas. Because of the immensity of the ship, some of her duties took her deep into its structure and into areas most humans would normally not venture into unless they were assigned there specifically. One area in particular was very unusual. It was central to the ship and very big, measuring at least twice the size of the vegetarium on the World Federation ships. Although all she had was a glimpse of the inside when the entry door opened to allow someone access, she could clearly see an advanced delivery system and a large elaborate rack that held black balls about thirty centimeters in diameter. She had no idea what they were, but knew she had to get in there somehow and record this room. The only problem was that there was no food storage areas in there, and a human guard stood at the single entry.
Jane had tried all day long to slip in, but with no success. Fortunately, those delivering food by hand or small cart slept in the craft’s dormitory, and once everyone was asleep, she made her way carefully to the room. The second shift was performing their duties, and although a few queried her, her usual reply was that a food packet was found to be deficient, and it had to be retrieved.
One particular human insisted on more information. “In what way is the packet deficient?”
“A number of workers have complained of stomach pain. I am to bring the batch in for inspection.”
It seemed to satisfy the human, and he left her alone as she continued toward her target. She thought about the guard at the door as she walked, but she couldn’t come up with any idea on how to get rid of him without raising alarms. Being naked limited her resources as she thought of the different tools she had – five micro-grenades in her body cavities, the gum covering the inner roof of her mouth and the inside of her cheeks for small explosions, and her false tooth suicide pill in case she got caught. That would have to do, she thought.
She went quickly to the dispensary, grabbed a cup and poured the standard liquid. Mixing in the ingredients from her tooth, she casually walked over to the sentry – a ten minute walk from the cafeteria. The sentry looked at the cup and said, “Why are you bringing me this?”
“You look tired. You need to resupply your energy. Drink.”
“This is not usual.”
“It is my new duty.”
Jane knew these humans felt no compassion or gratitude, but had the sense of preservation of resources instilled in them when their mind was wiped. She counted on the human consuming the item based on this, hoping he would figure that this resource should not be wasted.
She was right. It took the cup and drank it while Jane walked away. Within seconds, she heard the body hit the floor. She ran back, quickly opened the door and dragged the now dead sentry inside, and started her video as she panned the room, stopping at all the major items. In less than a minute she was done and quickly exited the room. Opening the door, she found another human looking curiously at the entry.
“Where is the sent…” it started to say when it spotted the body lying on the floor inside the room. “What happened to the sentry?”
“I found him this way, but conscious. He was half in the room, so I brought him inside and lay him on the floor.”
“What is his condition?” it asked.
“He is dead. I am going to inform my supervisor,” Jane answered, but it wasn’t enough. As Jane walked away, the other human saw the cup on the floor and asked, “What were you doing in this room?”
Jane turned and said, “Nothing, other than inspecting the dead body.”
“Why is there a cup on the floor?” the human queried, its suspicion continuing to rise.
“I didn’t see it when I saw the sentry lying on the floor,” Jane made up as she casually reached back to access a micro-grenade.
The human thought about her reply, and finally said, “This is unusual. You must stay here until this matter can…” but Jane didn’t wait for him to finish. Firmly pressing the indent, she threw the grenade and ran, and the resultant explosion ended all questions.
***
Mike and John had been assigned to load cargo, but each were assigned to second shift and had to operate a loader, which allowed little in the way of exploration. For some reason, this group had an unusual number of females, and they spent all night trying to fight off the requests for mating, but with no success. As soon as they finished with one, another came by with a mating request and waited patiently until either one was sufficiently rested before continuing.
When they had a moment to themselves, Mike asked, “What the hell is going on? At first I never felt so lucky, but, well… they just do it, you know? And then they go do it with someone else!”
John replied, “I think they do it on purpose, to increase the size of the group. I mean, we’re both good looking, and we’re built. And like…”
They were interrupted by another female who was requested that both impregnate her.
Mike looked at John and said to her, “We have impregnated three women each. We can no longer impregnate any more today. See us tomorrow.”
She walked away satisfied with the answer, and John said, “Buddy, we’ve gotta go to sleep or we’ll be bugged all night.”
“Yeah,” Mike said. “Never thought I’d fake sleep so I wouldn’t get laid.”
John laughed and they both lay down until their shift started.
They woke up to a klaxon whooping. As everyone ran out, John and Mike looked at each other, with Mike saying, “Keenan.”
“Yeah. Or Jane.”
They ran in the general direction they felt Jane would be in, but were worried they would never find her in the throng of workers surrounding the alien ship.
Mike looked around and picked out a human who was walking in the other direction. Walking up to him, he said, “Report.”
“Explosion inside the craft, Central section, near the Singularity Room.”
“Damage or deaths?” John added.
“Uncertain. One human dead. Possible hostile act.”
They left him and worked their way over to the boarding and loading ramp, as that was the only accessible entry or exit point in this area. They tried to appear as if they were waiting for instructions, and in the confusion no one requested that they do anything. After fifteen minutes of waiting, John said, “Maybe she’s already left.”
“Or maybe she’s dead.”
“God, I hope not. I kinda like her.”
“Yeah, me too.”
Keenan, who had made it to an observatory desk after he had heard the klaxon, adjusted his eyesight until he spotted Mike and John standing on the loading ramp. He didn’t know what had happened, but they were obviously waiting for something. He was too far to do anything at the moment except look, so he waited, hoping that things would clear up soon.
Mike had had enough of waiting. “I’m going in. If she’s hurt or needs help…” He didn’t need to say anymore, and they jumped into action.
Quickly walking inside, they went as fast as they could without drawing attention to themselves. As soon as they turned a corner, they collided with Jane, casually walking out. All three tumbled, but they quickly regained their composure. John whispered, “Am I glad to see you…” but Jane gave him the look that reminded him to watch his thoughts. It was too late, a number of humans had witnessed the collision and had come over to inquire as to damage and to verify their assignments.
“No damage,” John said, but because he was speaking for all three it brought further query and suspicion. Jane and Mike also answered, but two of the humans persisted and called out a mental general warning. They were about to get up but now found themselves in the middle of a group of five.
They quickly saw the situation get out of control, and Mike reached behind and pulled out a grenade, trying hard to hide the action in the attempt to get up. This was nothing new to him, as both he and John had served as deep infiltration agents on a number of occasions and it was standard practice to hide weaponry everywhere you could.
Raising himself erect, he said with as much authority as he could muster, “We were sent to find this human and take her in for questioning,” and he turned to leave as he and John grabbed Jane’s arms. The group was unsure but didn’t say anything, allowing them to walk away a few steps, until one of them asked, “Where is your weaponry?”
The three had received a mental picture of the standard guard, dressed, sidearm and Intel helmet in place, and it was obvious that neither John nor Mike was such. Mike turned, smiled and said, “Here it is!” and threw the grenade as they ran.
***
Keenan saw the three run out of the loading dock, followed by a small explosion.
“Talk about going out with a bang,” he thought, but he was relieved they were all alive. He continued to watch as a group of humans in body armor and weaponry converged on where the three were as they continued running. He had worked his way over, but was still a good two hundred meters away. Quickly reaching down, he took out two of the three grenades he had left and threw them as hard as he could to either side of where they were running.
***
Jane was running for her life, with Mike and John right beside her.
“You get anything?” they asked out of breath as they ran.
“EVERYTHING!” Jane replied, and new mission orders popped out of their subconscious.
Jane gasped in shock and almost tripped with the new instructions, but Mike and John yelled, “RUN!” at the same time.
They hung back and separated, each one removing the final grenades they had as they looked for cover.
“I’ve got the loader!” Mike yelled, and John followed with “Corner of Cargo box!”
Hitting their spots, they each launched a grenade in the direction of the group following Jane, and were happy to hear screams as the grenades exploded.
Within seconds, a larger security force was drawn to the area as a result, and John and Mike counted their last grenades, knowing it wouldn’t be enough. Just as the larger security force converged, a third, larger explosion occurred, not exactly centered on the group, but close enough to cause significant damage. Mike looked around after the explosion, spotting Keenan on a catwalk about sixty meters away.
With the explosions, a wave of humans, both security forces and otherwise, converged on the area, with Jane being the only one running away.
A few had noticed this and had started running after her. John and Mike started yelling at the top of their voices, while Mike boarded the Loader and started walking the large robot over towards the security force. John looked on in horror, realizing what it was Mike was about to do.
He gave up his cover and ran to the group as Mike reached the guards. He rammed into the crowd, throwing people in every direction. The guards were firing with their side-arms, but their small caliber wasn’t enough to penetrate the solid exterior of the Loader.
Those that had followed Jane had turned, realizing that a bigger threat was in the other direction. Within seconds, a micro missile struck the loader, and John groaned as he saw the Loader tip over and fall on its side. Humans climbed all over it, but John made his way to the one who had fired the missile. His hope dropped immediately when he saw the human in a full Maxon 1 suit, getting prepared to launch a second missile as Mike struggled to rise in his damaged Loader.
He used the last of his grenades, throwing it at the Maxon suit, and was happy to see legs and arms go flying as the grenade exploded, killing the controller and those nearby. He ran up, grabbed the launcher, and zeroed in on the cargo bay doors.
Time slowed down as John watched security officers shoot Mike through the small openings in the Loader. Boosters were being pumped into his veins by the CBAssist system, and he felt detached and calm, vaguely aware of Keenan standing by his side. He watched as the crush of people ran towards him, and calmly aimed and pulled the trigger on the micro missile as a throng of people jumped on top of him and Keenan. Keenan did what he knew he had to do, and pushed the trigger on the two grenades he had left.
***
Jane turned to look at the commotion. All hell had broken loose, and she knew her friends were either dead or dying. Watching in horror, she saw a Loader down and security forces trying to shoot whoever was inside, but her focus was interrupted by a large explosion inside the alien ship loading bay, followed by a mound of people suddenly being torn into pieces as their bodies flew through the air.
Resigned and knowing full well she had to survive, she turned and ran out of the complex and into the desert night. ‘Damn you Keenan!’ she thought to herself as it became obvious that the man she loved was now dead.
Security forces had been combing the area around the base, looking for any infiltrators. Jane knew their Maxons were programmed to activate in the event of any explosion or commotion. “Suit, report.”
“In position. Survivors?”
“Just me. Come get me.”
The other Maxons immediately jumped into their council programmed actions, running into the fray, firing their missile salvos and causing as much confusion as possible. Jane’s suit ran up to her and opened, and she quickly got inside.
“EVAC, ONE! Situation hot!” she yelled as she ran to the designated pickup point.
Within seconds, the glowing green circle showed up on her suit viewscreen as it locked on to the pickup point, 2 clicks away. Jane ran to the designated area and waited until the Stilleto uncloaked. Looking up at the open drop door, she jumped and thrustered her way to the entry and quickly got out of her Maxon as the ship went back to cloak. Planetary defenses had come online and targeted the ship while visible, but now the automated defenses had to deduce the target speed and trajectory as they started firing their salvos. Jane was knocked sideways and almost out of the drop door as a salvo ripped through the ship, and it shuddered and groaned as the pilot attempted a random course adjustment. The Maxon 5 was still open, and a package was being automatically dropped inside and locked in place as Jane ran out and over to the bridge.
Once there, a flood of warnings voiced by the ship comp washed over her:
“Hyperdrive offline… Cloak on emergency power… Cooling system overheating…”
Captain Sallecker stomped as he walked the bridge from one end to the other issuing orders.
Turning to Jane, he asked, “Others?”
“Down. We have to get out of here!”
Sallecker didn’t understand, presuming her hurry to be cowardice. “How can you be sure?” he insisted.
“Captain, this is our orders! They died so I could live. I have the information we came here for. We gotta move! It’s critical I get to the Council ASAP!”
Sallecker stood watching her amidst the storm surrounding the S.S. Cristina.
“Sir, Cloak won’t last much longer!” Lt. Dionne said.
Sallecker knew it was now or never. “Get us around to the other drop site and then let’s get out of here.”
The Stilleto quickly made it over to site #2, dropped the Maxon 5 and quickly accelerated as the cloak began to fail. Planetary defenses had picked up the failing cloak, temporarily acquiring a lock on the Stilleto but losing it as the cloak strengthened. It failed once and for all just as the ship exited the thin atmosphere.
***
Mike could clearly see the security agent trying to fire his weapon through the opening in the Loader. Reaching over, he twisted the nozzle and pointed it away, and the bullet narrowly missed hitting him. Immediately after an explosion temporarily distracted the security agent and the others pinning him down, and he did one final push to lift himself up, but something was wrong with the Loader. He struggled as the hydraulics shorted, but he was able to get up on one knee and see the final action.
Three suits had appeared just over the ridge, and a large explosion had just occurred, throwing bodies everywhere. The suits were creating havoc as they provided a distraction for the major event, and Mike’s glee and thoughts were quickly picked up by those around him. They immediately sent out a mental warning while the final Maxon 5 showed up to deliver its payload. Mike’s happiness turned to frustration as a human picked up the rocket launcher that John had lost and pointed it at the Maxon 5, now working its way toward the large ship. The missile locked and launched as the suit worked its way down, but it never made it. Just before impact, the onboard computer quickly realized that this was as far as it could go and set of the package inside. The resulting explosion leveled all humans in the work area and any walking in the work tunnels for several hundred meters.
***
“Shields!” Sallecker ordered.
The shields came on, but a short from the torn conduit knocked them out almost immediately.
“Shields offline!” Dionne yelled.
“Punch it! Get us the hell out of here!”
As enemy vessels received reports from the planetary defenses, they acquired their new target as soon as the cloak failed. The ship was incredibly fast, faster than anything they had ever seen before, but not faster than the missiles now locked onto the quickly accelerating Stilleto.
Sallecker watched the rear display and Targeting, undecided as to his next course of action. Evading would allow the other alien craft to catch up, but running meant certain interception.
“Comm to Mr. Dickens. How is the cloak coming?”
“Not good, Sir. It’s gonna be at least ten minutes.”
“I’m not asking for a permanent repair. We need it now.”
There was a pause, and then the question, “How now is now?”
“As in…” Sellecker looked at Tactical, “…in less than 22 seconds.”
“Oh. Well then,” was the only reply. Sallecker new better than to inquire any further. He thought about Dickens and how lucky he was to have him here. He became an instant legend when a badly damaged WF221, missing its rear half no less, somehow managed to generate enough energy to pop up shields for the split second needed to repel an alien torpedo, and then, to top it off, destroy an enemy capital ship and various other support and fighter craft. This from a dying WF ship. And it was almost all Dickens’ doing. The tactic had quickly become required studying for all engineer cadets. He was here on the Stilleto on loan and through his own insistence, wanting to spend some time serving on the fastest ship of the fleet. Sallecker had Dickens’ new, Top Secret orders lying on his desk, and he was reluctant to pass them over, wanting to keep him permanently. For now, he hoped Dickens would live up to his reputation one more time, for all their sakes.
“Comm, message to mother. We need you now,” was all Sallecker said. “Jane, if the info you carry is truly as important as you say, get into a Maxon 5 Suit and drop when clear. WF287 will pick you up if we don’t make it.”
Sallecker knew they would be hit long before she could make it into the suit, but there might be a chance the ship would survive long enough for her to escape. Jane ran out of the bridge without another word.
“Can we not go any faster?” he asked as the four missiles quickly ate up the distance. He knew they had no other countermeasures for the new alien interceptor missiles except for the cloak, and realized that this had quickly become an Achilles’ heel for the Stilleto.
“No, Sir. Thrusters are at maximum, and I’ve even gotten the maneuvering thrusters pushing us.”
The ship groaned as it rocked ahead, physically stretching and elongating from the stress on its mass. A deep vibration was now being felt, caused by instability from the damage incurred earlier.
“Be ready to change trajectory as soon as the cloak is up, then target the missiles as they pass by.”
‘Dickens, now’s the time,’ Sallecker thought to himself as he watched the countdown, now at six seconds.
“Now, Captain!” Dickens yelled through comm.
“Confirmed!” Dionne yelled as the cloak came online and the pilot pulled a gentle starboard, trying hard not to stress the heavily damaged ship.
Sallecker could clearly see WF287 now on the viewscreen, and Tactical put it at 2000 kilometers distance and closing in. Missiles had gone past, but targeting only managed to get two of them.
The other two now locked on WF287, which had its shields up and would be impervious to any damage from them.
“It won’t be up very long, Sir,” Dickens said through the comm as he watched the cloak power fluctuations. “Ten seconds at best.”
Sallecker watched and realized that soon, the missiles would reacquire the Stilleto once the cloak dropped. “Lt. Robertson, set a course for WF287, maximum speed. Comm to WF287. We’re coming in hot and heavy. Need immediate docking. Shields down, Cloak failing. Prepare for boarding at speed.”
Captain Firewater, on the Bridge of WF287, raised his eyes at what Captain Sallecker was saying. It took him only a few seconds for him to react and give the appropriate orders.
“Cloak has failed, Captain,” Dionne said.
Sallecker watched as the two missiles reacquired the Stilleto’s signature and turned in a large circle to intercept. Fortunately, they hadn’t advanced much and the large circle gave them time. WF287 was still quickly advancing towards them, but Sallecker knew that soon they would reverse and try to match their speed at the last second. It was a risky maneuver, but it was the only choice they had.
“How long for missile intercept?”
“Fifteen seconds, Sir.”
He watched the display as WF287 cut thrusters at 500 kilometers, rotated 180 degrees to match the Stilleto’s heading and started accelerating to match their speed.
“Mr. Robertson, please leave your seat,” Sallecker said.
Robertson happily got up, knowing he would likely not be able to pull this off and happy the Captain would take over.
Sallecker sat down and got ready to hit reverse thrusters as he watched WF287 loom large on the viewscreen.
“Computer, Viewscreen to realtime.”
The image readjusted, and Sallecker kept his eye on the distance.
“200 kilometers... 150... 100...
The shields turned off when the Stilleto was only 5 kilometres away, and as soon as the rear half of WF287 covered the viewscreen Sallecker hit reverse thrusters full on and struggled to get the damaged and heavily vibrating ship lined up with the rear dock.
“Missile impact in three seconds...”
Sallecker didn’t hear the warning as he did everything he could to straighten the heavily yawing Stilleto. He knew that because of its size, it either went in straight or it went in in pieces. The dock ramp jumped at them, and WF287 raised its shields a second too late. One missile made it through just as the S.S. Cristina sheared off the rear port half on entering. Sallecker squirmed as he watched the rear of the hanger bay coming up fast, the reverse thrusters at maximum. Just as he felt he would make it, the one missile slammed into the mid rear engine, and Sallecker felt the reverse push slacken as S.S. Cristina drove itself into the rear Hanger wall.