Unleashed

by D. R. Johnson

  “When I get out of here,” she said, scowling at Bosnan. “I’m going to re-enact Viktor’s death. You can play Viktor.”

  Bosnan grimaced and backed away, allowing Bettina to take the spotlight in Scout’s line of vision. Her surroundings slowly cleared and she could tell that she laid horizontally. Bettina tapped her hand against her shin, but again, Scout felt nothing.

  “You owe me a debt of gratitude. My doctors spent valuable days sedating you, removing that bullet, and tending to your injury. Not many know how to treat a wound like that in this present age, but I spared no expense,” Bettina said, moving from her shin to the mask over her nose and mouth. “They constantly applied anesthesia so that you wouldn’t experience any of the unbearable pain.”

  “How generous of you to keep me knocked out for such selfless reasons,” Scout said, scoffing. “Why waste all that time if you’re just going to kill me?”

  “Because it shall be I who kills you and not some rogue,” Bettina said, hardening her face and letting the disgust seep through her tone. She gestured to their left. “Look and see the beginning of your demise.”

  Scout turned her head but froze when she saw the cause of all the whirring and shining. She couldn’t feel much, but she felt her throat tighten. The slim tank looked identical to the tanks on Adli. The same blue water floated from top to bottom.

  This time, it held something different than Bosnan’s old soldiers, but she still recognized it. The slightly long, ragged brown hair. The eyes looked dead but still had blue coloring. The round cheeks and the small jaw. She glanced down at her arms, noticing the needle marks that now lined both.

  “Cloning?” Scout said, looking back at her reflection in the tank. She wished that it was a reflection. “Is that your new thing, Bosnan?”

  “No.”

  “You could call it a clone, but that would give it too much credit,” Bettina said, nodding at the identical body in the tank. Bettina didn’t look pleased or satisfied, as usual, but she also didn’t look frustrated. She wanted this. “It is a lifeless corpse, but it offers you one last chance to look upon yourself.”

  Scout tried to feel her arms. She wanted to kick her legs, but still nothing. She bit her lip harder.

  “Yo-You’ve lost your mind,” she said, trying to keep the stammering minimal. She looked at Bettina. “Whatever this is, you’re de-delirious. My friends will come—”

  “I’m planning on that,” Bettina said, gesturing to the corpse again. “I’m very much planning on it, as is Fi. Unfortunate that you will not be joining us. Chief Bosnan, administer the remaining anesthesia.”

  Without hesitation, Bettina turned and walked out of the room. Nelson followed, while two soldiers and Bosnan stood at a nearby console.

  Scout tried to rip her arms out of place. She tried to kick her legs. Still nothing. She tried to lift her head, but even that strength vanished. She slammed her teeth onto her lip and felt the blood emerge. She needed Bettina’s blood. She needed all of this anger and pain to crater on Bettina. Scout needed her dead.

  Within seconds, even the strength of her bite vanished.

  9

  Fi knelt, resting the sword across her hands. She didn’t hold it in an offensive or defensive stance, but instead, let it lay in her arms. Queen Bettina had both sharpened and cleaned the blade, which Fi found impressive. Even underneath the dim light of this cell, it sparkled.

  She didn’t glance back at the slab behind her, but her mind drifted back to it. The Queen had shown her grace by releasing her from it, returning her sword, and commanding that she practice her form. Fi had witnessed a side of the monarch that no one else had.

  “Only I can redeem you.”

  The sight of the her and the Queen stabbing her mother drifted to the forefront of Fi’s mind. Again, she smiled. Finally, she found herself free of the inner torment. Queen Bettina had helped her kill her mother. Why hadn’t she ever recalled that before?

  Fi held no love for anyone, but she respected someone who brought justice to monsters like her mother.

  The dark double doors parted and Queen Bettina walked through the new opening. She lowered her head to the floor, experiencing instincts that she never noticed before. The Queen stopped an inch away from her face, and her boot consumed Fi’s peripheral vision.

  “Fi Kal,” Queen Bettina said. Her cold voice echoed throughout the room and Fi’s mind. “Have you completed the exercises I commanded?”

  “Yes, your Majesty.”

  “Rise and demonstrate.”

  Fi stood and turned to the right, not looking at the Queen’s face. She did notice that no one else entered with her, but that information seemed irrelevant to the monarch’s command. She extended her sword and stabbed it in a motion that took less than a second to accomplish.

  She heard the thunder on Graig. Soldiers briefly appeared in front of her, falling as her sword pierced through their silver armor. Fi didn’t pull the sword back toward her, blinking as the memory of the battle played itself out in her mind.

  She’d killed royal soldiers. That seemed just.

  “We are not finished,” Queen Bettina said, breaking her focus. “Another stance.”

  Fi felt Queen Bettina carrying her forward and plunging the sword into her mother’s back. She returned her attention to the present, pulling her sword back and swinging it in a lopsided motion. She didn’t hesitate, imagining the sword collide with a neck.

  ConSec officers appeared. She watched the sword slide through the neck of her target before a laser took out the other. That seemed like the just decision, killing their oppressors before they found their target.

  “Quick, Sora. The girl.”

  Again, Fi didn’t pull the sword back. Her focus shifted to the memory. They rescued Scout and Nait, a pair of siblings. Siblings needed each other.

  Another sight took over. Carrack slumped to the ground beneath the stove. She didn’t rescue him.

  “That is enough. Your combat skills have remained intact,” Queen Bettina said, returning Fi to the present. “I have new orders for you.”

  “Redeem yourself for your inadequacy. Redeem yourself in my service.”

  Fi dropped to her knees and again laid the sword across her arms. She lowered her face toward the Queen’s boot. “Yes, your Majesty?”

  “I have no doubt that soon, the crew of the Killer will arrive and will attempt to find you,” Queen Bettina said. “I will allow them to do so, but once they find you, you must kill Sora Trok and all of his comrades.”

  Sora. The Killer crew. Selas.

  Fi’s head snapped up, but she didn’t focus on the Queen. She felt Selas’ arm run down her own. She felt his hands on her hips. Rather than Queen Bettina, she saw his eyes. She saw his eyes in the cargo hold of the Killer and she saw them on the bridge of the Bombard. She heard his voice mixed with her own.

  “Fi, thank you.”

  She felt their lips touch.

  “Fi, you are now my servant and my first lady,” Queen Bettina said, grabbing her chin and pulling Fi’s face toward her own. Fi noticed her green eyes as they honed in on her like a fellow hunter. “For the sake of myself, our government, and our people, you must kill them when they arrive. When you accomplish this, you will obtain justice for a thousand brothers across the Nebula in my name.”

  The final words came from two sources, both external and internal. She heard the Queen, but she also heard those words in her own mind. She heard Queen Bettina’s echo as she stared at Carrack’s body.

  She had to obtain justice. She had to redeem herself.

  “Yes, your Majesty,” Fi said, lowering her face as the Queen released her. “I will kill them. Only you can redeem me.”

  “You’ve lost her.”

  Selas pulled himself up and shrieked, noticing the sweat that dripped onto his shirt. The roar had the volume to break open tombs and call the dead to life, but he didn’t focus on that. He couldn’t even open his eyes as he threw his head into his hands. He r
ubbed his temples at a quicker pace, trying to dispel the aching. He hadn’t felt pain of this magnitude since Wantim, but nonetheless, the attack presented itself.

  He wanted to believe he had a nightmare, but he knew better. Something happened to Fi and Anziar wanted to take that opportunity to make his way back into his mind. He wanted to take control.

  “Give up. She’s gone.”

  Selas screamed again and thrashed in his bed.

  “Selas, Selas!” Sora said, grabbing his shoulders and stilling him. Selas’ eyes snapped open to see his friend at his bedside. “Calm down. You’re alright.”

  “It’s Anziar. He’s trying to tell me that Fi’s gone,” he said, breathing heavily. He wanted to throw Sora back, but he tried to control himself and focused on the Captain’s calm, understanding face. “I have a terrible feeling, Sora. I can’t explain it.”

  “That doesn’t mean anything,” Sora said, patting his shoulder and keeping his eyes level with him. “Anziar is only playing mind games. He wants to stop you before you get to her.”

  Selas exhaled, letting Sora’s words repeat in his head. If Anziar knew that he could save Fi, then he would try to overpower him before Selas gained any strength from the mere possibility. He wanted to trust Sora’s optimism. He only had that left to rely on.

  However, the negative feeling remained.

  “What in the hell was that?!” Jaskia said, marching through the entrance into the men’s quarters. She moved better than she had in the previous days, stopping in the doorway and blinking at the two. “Uh, we’re entering Danforth’s atmosphere now. My contact’s in position.”

  Jaskia turned and walked away, while Sora stood and extended a hand to Selas. “Come on. Let’s go get them back.”

  Selas grabbed his hand and jumped out of his bunk, grabbing the chest-piece that rested beside his bunk in the narrow quarters. Last night, he’d went to bed fully clothed, knowing that an emergency could appear at any moment in these circumstances, but he had waited on the armor. This chest-piece felt lighter than the armor he wore as Talek, but nonetheless, he would need it on this mission.

  Selas slipped the chest-piece over his head and grabbed his rifle before following Sora out of the room and into the next hall. “She’s mentioned this contact for days. Any idea who they are?”

  “No,” Sora said, shaking his head as they walked through the main hold. “Just that they can get us into the prison.”

  Selas sighed. Although their identity didn’t concern him, this situation consistently grew more complicated.

  Seconds later, they entered the cockpit where Nait, Naos, and Jaskia stood. Chok gently directed the ship toward an oval-shaped tower that stood prominent in the viewport. Selas scratched his chin, noticing the clouds surrounding the tower. Most of the tower looked thin as it descended into the rest of the sky, but the oval-shaped top level looked wide. A closed hangar sat on the side of the building.

  “Ready to dock,” Chok said, glancing at Sora and gesturing to a flashing light on the console. “Answer?”

  Sora nodded to Jaskia, who leaned forward and pressed a button below the light. “Do your thing, Kurt.”

  “Kurt?!” Naos said, spinning toward Jaskia with wide eyes. “What’re you thinking?”

  “Jask, tell me it’s another Kurt,” Nait said, pulling on her arm. She glared and shoved him away.

  “After my ship fires the disabler, the mechanisms will malfunction for roughly 45 minutes,” the gruff-sounding man, who Selas guessed was Kurt, said. “So, be ready to hurry before they lock us in.”

  “Jaskia,” Sora said, narrowing his eyes and stepping toward her. “This man shot and captured you. This mission is too crucial to throw it in the hands of someone that we can’t trust.”

  “Not to mention,” Naos said, coughing and waving his hands in front of her face. “He shot you!”

  Selas crossed his arms. The mercenary who brought Jaskia to Graig became her contact. This situation constantly complicated itself.

  Jaskia scowled, gritting her teeth at the three behind her. “I know that everyone on this ship takes everything personally, but when he shot me, he was doing a job. That’s what he’s doing now: A job.”

  “Who’s paying?!” Nait said, putting his hands on his head and glancing at the small ship that now floated next to the Killer.

  “Your new buddy, Governor Badesha, although he doesn’t know it yet,” Jaskia said, shrugging. She narrowed her eyes back at Sora and pointed to the prison tower. “Listen, you know breaking into a prison is a little out of our league. We need help, and right now, I don’t give two flips about morality or trust. I just want Scout back, and this guy can help us get her.”

  Sora sighed, but before he spoke, Selas stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder. “She has a point, Sora. A mercenary is used to operations like this. If he helps us, it’s worth it.”

  Selas looked at his hand on Sora’s shoulder and spotted the irony. The situation ever-changed itself, as well.

  “It’s too late to go back now,” Sora said, nodding at everyone in the compact circle and leaning closer to the main console. “Open the hangar, Kurt.”

  Two blue currents released from Kurt’s ship and each headed for a separate side of the hangar door. They made contact and blue electricity crackled throughout the door and the surrounding exterior walls. Within seconds, the door collapsed, and an open hangar remained. Chok slammed the piloting stick forward and the Killer sped toward the hangar.

  Jaskia, Nait, and Naos rushed out of the cockpit, but Selas closed his eyes. Fi only needed to hang on for a few more minutes.

  “We have to be quick if we don’t want to get stuck inside this place,” Sora said, snapping him out of his quick meditation. He turned and followed him into the hall.

  As they passed through the main hold again, Selas heard the landing gear kick into place. Jekk and Kossk stood in the small passage between the medical bay and the main hold, while Trika entered from another corridor with a box. He assumed the teenagers and Natalia already stood at the ramp.

  “Good luck, brother,” Jekk said, smiling at his twin. “Today will be a success.”

  “Your body may require use of this again,” Kossk said, extending his spear as he leaned on the wall for support. He held his wounded leg in the air. “Let your mind and soul use it wisely.”

  Selas nodded and took the spear, placing it in a slot on his back, but he imagined his face looked far grimmer than his brother’s. “We can only hope that use shall be minimal.”

  “Sora, don’t forget a gun. You know, since Bettina smashed your classic one to bits,” Trika said, displaying an awkward smirk as she opened the box. Large assault rifles sat inside. “They’re from Ursun, remember? Even have a stun option.”

  Sora picked up one of the rifles and briefly examined it, before sliding it into his empty holster. “Thanks, sis. Stay alert back here.”

  Selas and Sora turned in the opposite direction, proceeding through the next corridor and to the exit ramp. Nait, Naos, and Jaskia all stood in the center, wielding rifles and pistols. Natalia stood to the right and motioned to Sora, while Selas took his place beside Nait.

  “You sure you feel up to this?” Nait said, rubbing Jaskia’s back.

  “I’ve spent the last two days splitting my time between resting and sit-ups,” Jaskia said, brushing his hand away. “I need to get back out there. She did the same for me.”

  “I can still go if you need me to,” Natalia said, looking from the teenagers to Sora and biting her lip. “Really, I would be fine.”

  “We need you on the ship if things go bad. Trika can’t protect it all on her own,” Sora said, looking at Natalia with a reassuring smile.

  Natalia nodded and hit the button to her right. The ramp hissed and disengaged, while Selas adjusted his chest-piece and secured his rifle to his side. He held the spear with his free hand and closed his eyes, taking in the last few seconds before chaos broke loose. He needed to remain at ease.
He needed to stay that way.

  However, he couldn’t experience the fullness of that until he saw Fi.

  The ramp touched the ground and the group of five charged. Selas felt the stale air hit him as soon as his boot stepped off the ramp.

  “Freeze!”

  A lone soldier blocked the two doors that stood at the end of the wide, green-walled hangar. He aimed his three-barreled rifle at the crew and walked toward them, holding his wrist to his mouth. “You are all under arrest. Don’t go any further.”

  “You’re outnumbered, genius,” Nait said, aiming his pistol at the soldier. “I think I’ll take my chances.”

  “Last warn—”

  A quiet click interrupted the shoulder and a scream replaced it as a small, black bullet pierced his hand. The soldier’s gun clattered to the metal floor and he followed. Selas turned his head to see a bearded, armored man approaching from the same ship that opened the hangar. Kurt marched past the crew and neared the soldier with his silenced pistol.

  “I’d listen to the kid,” Kurt said, yanking the soldier off the ground and tapping his helmet with his pistol. The soldier moaned. “Where are the prisoners?”

  “This is a prison,” the soldier said, gasping. “Prisoners are ever—”

  Kurt grabbed the soldier’s injured hand and twisted, which pulled an instant wail from the soldier. “You know who we’re here for. Tell us where and you live.”

  Selas glanced to his fellow crew members. Sora and Naos both tensed, while Nait gave Jaskia a look of uncomfortable disbelief. She motioned to focus on the mercenary. He still felt neutral about the exchange.

  “Fi K-Kal is in BT203. Th-That’s down the passage on the l-left,” the soldier said, groaning and gasping from the pain. Blood dripped to the ground. “Sc-Scout G-Gash is C123. D-Down the r-right.”