Battlegroup Vega

by Anders Raynor

  “Being shot by the Biozi or executed by my own people? It’s not much of a choice.”

  The major turned to him. Her helmet hid most of her face, but he saw anger burning in her dark eyes. “Either way, you’ll get what you deserve,” she hissed.

  This is personal, Adrian realized. She hates me, maybe because she lost someone close to her during the war, and she blames me for that.

  The thought that she might execute him also crossed his mind. Friendly fire wasn’t that uncommon in close-quarter firefights. Maybe that’s why she’d arrested him in the middle of a battle.

  The walls shuddered as boarding pods punched through the hull. Adrian heard clangs and explosions, followed by the rattle of rapid-fire blaster rifles. The major sped her pace. Thick smoke crawled through the corridor toward them, indicating a Biozi boarding squad was near.

  “Formation gamma-five,” the major ordered, raising the barrel of her blaster carbine.

  The SpecOps soldiers spread out. Two took point and dashed to the next intersection checking the lateral corridors.

  Assault drones burst through the smoke. The soldiers reacted with lightning speed, spraying the disk-shaped devices with blaster bolts. The major shoved Adrian against a wall and aimed at the attackers, holding her carbine with one hand, but didn’t fire. He knew she was watching him from a corner of her eye, ready to pull her sidearm with her free hand if he tried anything.

  The assault drones were only the first wave. Taar’kuun rifles boomed, and plasma bolts ripped through the smoke. The SpecOps soldiers shot back.

  “Suppressive fire, protocol eta-four,” the major shouted. “Go, go, go!”

  She grabbed Adrian by the shoulder and pushed him to the nearest lateral corridor. The rapid-fire blasters rattled without pause, spewing streams of ionized plasma into the fog. He sensed the stench of burned biosynthetic flesh even through the filters of his helmet.

  “We can’t get through, too many of them,” the major told Adrian. “We’ll have to take an escape pod. My ship will pick us up in space. Move, move!”

  He rushed forward, closely followed by the major.

  The fight intensified. The Biozi troopers were charging. The SpecOps soldiers screamed as plasma bolts hit them. When Adrian glanced back, he saw their bodies on the floor, black smoke rising from the holes in their armor. Behind them, he could make out the shapes of the Biozi moving through the fog.

  As Adrian and the major turned a corner, she took cover behind the wall and fired at their pursuers, delivering short accurate bursts. Adrian heard the screeching of the Biozi hit by her blaster bolts. Then the screeching stopped, and there was a moment of relative silence.

  It’s now or never!

  Adrian pulled the major’s sidearm, clicked the safety off, and pointed it at her head. “I’m not returning to Vega,” he said, stepping away from her.

  The major turned her head and glared at him. “You’re a traitor and a coward,” she spat. “If you hadn’t destroyed the bioweapon against the Biozi, the war would be over. How many people died ‘cuz of you?”

  “I’m guilty. Yes, I confess—I destroyed the anti-Taar’kuun bioweapon the Secretary of Defense forced me to create. You know why I did it? Because I’m a scientist, not a mass murderer. If having a conscience is a crime in the eyes of this new human civilization, then I’m guilty of treason.”

  “Gaining the higher moral ground won’t save us from extinction,” she snapped.

  “It’s not about higher moral ground. It’s about preparing the foundation for a sustainable society, where decisions are made based on ethical considerations, not short-term gain.”

  “How can we build a sustainable society when the fragging bugs are wiping us out?”

  “No point in arguing with you.” Adrian threw the blaster on the floor and spread his arms. “Why waste time on a trial? I am guilty. Execute me, here and now. C’mon, get on with it, and get off this damn ship!”

  He glimpsed hesitation in the major’s eyes. She was tempted by his offer, he could tell. They both knew no one would investigate his death too closely.

  The major grabbed the sidearm, but instead of pointing it at Adrian, she shoved it in his hand. “You’ll need it,” she said. “I know you won’t fire at me. You said it—you’re not a murderer. And I’m not an executioner.”

  Given the circumstances, Adrian thought he would rather take his chances with the major. Being captured by the Biozi—who considered him public enemy number one—was an even grimmer prospect.

  When the major dashed to the nearest escape pod, he followed her, squeezing the blaster with both hands. Smoke reduced visibility to a dozen meters, and their multispectral helmet scanners were powerless to penetrate the Biozi fog of war.

  “This pod is dead,” the major said. “We’ll try the next one.”

  A dark figure emerged from the fog. Adrian saw the scarlet light coming from the muzzle of a plasma rifle. Aimed at his head.

  The major threw herself to shield him. The plasma rifle boomed and flooded the corridor with red light. The major fired a burst simultaneously.

  The Biozi trooper stood still for a couple of seconds, the visor of his helmet shattered. The walls of the corridor were spattered with purple blood. The plasma rifle fell out of his hands, and he collapsed on the floor.

  The major slumped against the bulkhead. Through the hole in her chest plate, Adrian saw exposed ribs and black, burned flesh.

  Dizzy, his stomach churning, he ran to the next escape pod. Then he stopped and turned around.

  I can’t leave her.

  He returned to the major and hauled her to her feet. “You’ll be all right,” he wheezed.

  Her jaw clenched, she didn’t utter a word. As she couldn’t walk, Adrian had to drag her.

  “Oh, stars, you’re heavy,” he muttered. “For such a slim lady. I didn’t expect that. Must be your gear…”

  He stopped and leaned against the bulkhead to catch his breath. “Hold on, we’re almost there. Stay with me, okay? Talk to me. Where’re you from? Arcturus, I guess, judging by your pale skin. Not much sunshine there, right? What’s your name?”

  “She’s dead, Adrian,” his PA told him in a matter-of-fact tone. “I’m not reading any life signs.”

  “No, no, no, she’s not,” he cried, staring into the officer’s eyes. “Hang on, major. Do you hear me? We’re almost there; hang on for a little longer, will you?”

  “Snap out of it,” Ria said. “You’re in denial. She is dead. Leave her and run while you still can.”

  “Dammit!” He pounded the wall with his fist. “You can’t do that to me, major! You didn’t even tell me your name. I want you to tell me your name!”

  The officer’s eyes were frozen, with no spark of life in them.

  Adrian sat on the floor next to the corpse, staring at the ceiling.

  “I won’t make it this time, Ria. I’m so tired of running. All this carnage, this destruction… It all started because of me, because of my ego. Me, a humble geneticist from an inferior Taar’kuun caste, I was about to rewrite galactic history. A single experiment, Ria. A single experiment—that’s what caused five years of bloodshed. I never wanted any of this to happen.”

  “So what, are you going to sit here and wait to die?” Ria asked. “The Taar’kuun chancellor will make a trophy of your head and hang it in his office. Would that be a fitting end for a scientist who resurrected an entire species of sentient beings?”

  Adrian staggered to his feet. “You’re right. I need to pull myself together. For Ophelia.” The image of his daughter flashed through his mind. The light shining through the golden curls of her hair, the sadness in her blue eyes…

  He dashed to the escape pod, only to realize it was offline. “Dammit! They’re all offline. Ria, options?”

  “Get to the nearest hangar bay and take a ship.” The PA projected the safest route to the hangar on his retinas, considering all available information on Biozi squads.

  He to
ok a deep breath and tried to focus. C’mon, you can make it.

  He sprinted, following Ria’s map.

  The door to the hangar was already in sight when he heard steps behind him. He recognized the sound of Biozi boots on metal floor. He turned around and fired his blaster. His pursuer pounced at him, bursting from the smoke so quickly Adrian didn’t have time to aim. He’d never been a good shot anyway.

  Through the transparent visor of the Biozi’s helmet, Adrian glimpsed a face covered in dark scales and framed by six appendages, three on each side. They ended with a bioluminescent organ that gave off greenish light.

  Adrian tried to run, but his boots lost contact with the floor. The artificial gravity had failed, and he was helplessly floating in zero-G. His gun escaped his grip and drifted out of reach.

  The Biozi grabbed his leg. The trooper’s claws ripped through his suit and dug into his flesh. He screamed and kicked the Biozi with the energy of despair.

  Oh no!

  His boot stuck to the trooper’s visor. He realized too late that his suit had activated the adhesive coating of his boots in response to the loss of artificial gravity.

  Both Adrian and the Biozi were spinning in an odd aerial choreography. The trooper screeched in frustration and slashed Adrian’s boot with his claws, trying to get it off his face.

  From a corner of his eye, Adrian glimpsed the doors to the hangar parting. He reached for them, but froze as the muzzle of a blaster stared at him.

  “Stop dancing with this cockroach and stay still,” the owner of the blaster snapped.

  Adrian’s eyes widened in surprise. “Jason Blaze?”

  Jason grabbed Adrian’s arm and squeezed it. “Stay still, dammit!”

  The blaster barked twice in quick succession. Adrian’s leg was free.

  He glanced at the corpse of the trooper floating in the air like a crash dummy, limbs limp, a stream of purple blood escaping from a hole in his forehead.

  Adrian turned to Jason. “You’re not here to arrest me, are you?”

  Jason’s lips twisted in a smug smile, and his green eyes sparkled. “You’re kidding, right? Arrest you? I’d break you out of jail, if I had to.”

  He pulled Adrian toward the hangar. “You’ve got quite a fan club on the Remembrance,” Jason added. “I’m taking you home, doc.”

  03

  Give peace a chance

  ASC Remembrance was the oldest spaceship Adrian had ever set foot on. It’d entered service at a time when mammoths still roamed the Earth. Obsolete, even prehistorical, the ship still served its masters well thanks to its resilience. But Adrian knew it wasn’t the bioship that was remarkable, it was its crew.

  As Lieutenant Jason Blaze and a squad of marines escorted him to a shuttle, he saw the Remembrance through the open hangar doors. The 300-meter-long carapace of the destroyer reflected the light from the red nebula.

  I almost missed you, old buddy.

  Another squad of marines maintained a defense perimeter around the shuttle. Among them, Adrian recognized Lieutenant Riley Lance, weapons officer on the Remembrance. She snapped a salute in lieu of a greeting, even though Adrian was a civilian. They wasted no time in needless conversation. The shuttle took off as soon as they were all on board.

  “You look like hell, doc,” Jason said.

  “Just a bit lightheaded,” Adrian mumbled.

  The shuttle flew into the hangar of the Remembrance. Heavy doors made of biosynthetic materials, reinforced with a stasis field, closed behind them, and the destroyer set in motion.

  Jason looked at the lacerations on Adrian’s leg. “We need to get these wounds cleaned.” They both knew Biozi trooper’s claws secreted substances toxic to humans. “Request urgent medical assistance in hangar alpha,” Jason called through the intercom.

  “This’s the third time you saved my skin,” Adrian slurred, struggling to keep his eyes open.

  “Oh, I’ve lost count,” Jason said with a smirk. “Keeping you alive is a full-time job. The whole galaxy’s after you—the Biozi, the Alliance, Rico Varez and his mafia… Hell, you’ve got a knack for making enemies, doc.”

  “Yeah... It’s my full-time job,” Adrian muttered, then lost consciousness.

  * * *

  A medical instrument beeped somewhere in the distance. Three lights struggled through the fog. Adrian couldn’t feel his limbs.

  “Where am I?” he slurred.

  “You’re a head floating in a jar,” Ria deadpanned.

  The fog dissipated, and the lights slowly came into focus. Adrian had a feeling of déjà vu. He even recognized the scent of this place, reminiscent of a coniferous forest.

  “No sudden movements, okay?” said a familiar voice.

  “Talia…” he mumbled. “Sorry, Dr. Galen.”

  The SMO leaned above him. Her lips were pressed tight, yet her eyes sparkled with joy, as if she were repressing a smile. She looked young for a Senior Medical Officer, early thirties maybe. She had lush auburn hair, hazel eyes, and delicate features that evoked a she-elf from ancient folklore.

  “Just Talia,” she said, her voice soft and warm. “Take it easy, Adrian. You’ll be fine, but you need rest.”

  “The story repeats itself. The brave crew of the Remembrance snatches me from the claws of the Biozi again, like you did two years ago.”

  “But this time, we’ll finish what we started. Now you need rest—doctor’s orders. I have other patients to tend to.”

  “Just tell her how happy you are to see her,” Ria said.

  “She’s a medic, she can read my life signs. She knows.”

  “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. She needs to hear that from you.”

  Adrian exhaled slowly. Sensations were returning to his body. Despite his injury, he felt good. “Talia does have commendable qualities,” he admitted. “It’s hard to believe that such a compassionate being used to be a Taar’kuun.”

  “You had a connection with her,” Ria reminded him. “Remember your conversation at the Vega spaceport, before you departed for Olympica.”

  “That was two years ago. A lot happened in between. I can’t afford to get distracted from my goal, Ria. Finding Ophelia is my top priority. Right now, I need to know what’s going on in the Alliance. Give me the news channel.”

  Ria projected the feed from the Alliance’s info channel on his retinas. He closed his eyes and watched the news.

  “Peace talks between the Alliance and the Taar’kuun Galactic State have resumed,” a female voice said. “Ambassador Ansgaard has arrived on Tethys. He won’t be holding a press conference today; however, in a press release, he stated that his forthcoming meeting with the Taar’kuun chancellor will have historical significance.”

  The cam showed a modern palace, a dome-like structure floating above the planetary capital. Its lights shimmered against a crimson sky. Tethys was the name humans gave to that independent Taar’kuun world. The TGS controlled the vast majority of colonized planets in the known galaxy. Some worlds retained their autonomy, and for various reasons the TGS pretended to respect their independence. In reality, most autonomous Taar’kuun worlds were under the thumb of the Galactic State and its ruling caste like all the others.

  The commentator continued, “We asked our political analyst what can be expected from this meeting.”

  A male face appeared on the backdrop of the palace. The analyst’s short black hair gleamed from the cam’s flashlight.

  “This is a historical summit indeed,” he said. “The TGS chancellor agreed to meet with the human delegation and discuss the terms of a truce, hopefully the first step toward lasting peace. Until recently, TGS authorities refused to acknowledge the Alliance as a valid partner in such negotiations. They considered its very name—Alliance for the Survival of Humanity—as an insult to Taar’kuun beliefs.”

  “What are the chances of success, in your opinion?”

  “The chances to negotiate a truce are high; both parties have agreed to a ceasefire for th
e duration of the summit, and the ceasefire seems to be holding. The chances of an armistice, however, are difficult to evaluate at this stage. Remember, five years ago, during the Retroforming, the TGS authorities declared a state of emergency throughout the galaxy. For them, retroforming was an epidemic to be contained at all costs. They locked human beings in internment camps and tried to develop a cure for what they called Darus’s disease. Many Taar’kuun see us as mutants, abominations, and our very existence as an insult to their faith.”

  The cam was now showing a luxury shuttle transporting the members of the Taar’kuun delegation to the palace. Four TGS gunships escorted it, the dark color of their carapace contrasting with the silvery hull of the shuttle.

  “Do they still refuse to admit that Homo sapiens are a different species of sentient beings, and that we deserve the right to exist as much as they do?” the commentator asked.

  “Some of them are resistant to that idea, indeed,” the analyst replied. “In particular the religious castes. Remember that, according to the teachings of Taan’khoor’shaal, God created the Taar’kuun in His own image. They see themselves as the chosen ones, the supreme beings of this universe.”

  Adrian had struggled against such dogmatism his entire life. For the religious castes, anything that didn’t agree with their scripture was considered heresy or blasphemy.

  “So why are the TGS authorities willing to negotiate a truce with the Alliance?” the commentator asked.

  “Because this war puts a lot of pressure on their social structures,” the analyst said. “A year ago, the Taar’kuun suffered a humiliating defeat at the Battle of Olympica, despite their vast numerical superiority. Their warrior caste has sustained heavy losses, and the TGS doesn’t have the resources to continue this war while maintaining peace throughout their galactic empire. Now they’re forced to draft soldiers from other castes, and that causes major social and political issues.”

  The conversation between the commentator and the analyst continued, but Adrian didn’t pay it much attention. He wasn’t learning anything new from it. He’d witnessed the Battle of Olympica, when a massive Biozi armada launched a surprise attack against the Alliance.