by AJ Vega
******
On his way to the landing bay, Julius first passed by his quarters to pick up his sidearms—a pair of flicker-tech Gemini HVP-2 pistols with a belt holster. The Gemini pistols had a long rotary barrel with a silver finish, resembling something from the old Wild West of the now defunct United States. They had a small holographic projector for accurate sighting, and, thanks to their rotary barrel design, could each fire 240 bursts of accelerated protons per minute.
Things were getting dicey and he had to make a show of power to the Confed—intimidation could be a powerful negotiation tool. Still, he wished Laina was there—she had a better grasp of diplomacy than he did. Nevertheless, he had to do this on his own.
Exiting the elevator, he reached the landing bay. The Martian Confederacy shuttle was on the far end, near the edge of the catapult emitters. A dozen crew were gathered outside its entrance, armed with flicker rifles. They snapped to attention at his arrival.
“Sitrep?” Julius asked the senior crewmember present.
Ralph, the chief mechanic, saluted.
“Sir. They’re still inside their ship. We’d asked them to come out, but they’ve refused until our captain arrived.”
“Very well,” Julius said, stepping forward to face the shuttle’s entrance. “Tell them I’m here. And do nothing to instigate hostilities.”
“Aye, Captain,” Ralph replied.
Julius waited for the message to be relayed. Soon the door to the shuttle opened, and a ramp lowered. Three armed men with rifles and body armor emerged. Their uniforms had Confed marine markings on their helmets. They held their rifles, eying the crew as they stepped down the ramp. One of them walked ahead of the group, his rifle pointing at Julius.
“By order of the Martian Confederacy,” the lead man shouted. “You are hereby ordered to lower your weapons and surrender command of your ship!”
By this point, the crew had their rifles trained at the Confed soldier in return.
“Hold your fire,” Julius said calmly. “You are a guest on my ship, and it is you who must lower your weapons. You have my word that you will not be harmed.”
The lead soldier marched forward to him, his rifle aimed at Julius’ face.
“Lower your weapons or I’m going to turn your head into a salad bowl, pirate!”
Julius did not flinch. “Don’t be foolish. If you do that, you and your diplomat are dead. And you will never get your hands on our cargo.”
“Bullshit!” he spat. “You’re surrounded by the Martian Confederacy Navy—your ship could be destroyed with the touch of a switch. Now lower your weapons! Now!”
“We are nowhere near your navy,” Julius said coolly, pointing to the landing bay exit. “Look for yourself.”
The soldier squinted his eyes, giving a quick glance at the translucent force field, with the asteroid debris field painting the space outside.
“Easy!” a voice came out of the shuttle.
A man emerged, dressed in a black and crimson suit with the logo of the Martian Confederacy embroidered on it. Undoubtedly, the diplomat Julius was destined to meet.
The diplomat walked down the ramp, brushing past his security force.
“There’s no need to resort to hostilities, Sergeant,” the diplomat began. “We are here to talk, not fight. Captain, my name is Sedrick Xanthus. I am the Secretary of Peace for the Martian Confederacy. I have been granted the role of ambassador on behalf of the Confed. We only came here to talk.”
He walked toward Julius to give a handshake, but the Sergeant would not move out of the way.
Julius gave a wry look. “I am Captain Julius Verndock. And this is our ship, the Sea Wolf. And I will accept your surrender now. As I said, you will not be harmed.”
Xanthus nodded. “Very well. If we must surrender to you in order to begin a constructive dialogue, we will do so.”
The sergeant was unmoved. “I will not surrender to pirates! These are criminals to the Confederacy.”
“Sergeant, please,” the diplomat started.
“Marines!” the sergeant barked.
The enemy force dropped to their knees, their weapons in firing position.
Julius locked eyes with the sergeant. A tense silence followed. Julius knew if the situation was not defused, it was going to get explosive.
“Who’s your battalion CO, Sergeant?” Julius asked him finally. “Is it still Major Markson?”
The sergeant seemed taken aback. “Colonel Devan Markson. Why?”
“I know him. Served with him on some joint operations a long time ago—”
“Don’t give a shit!” he spat. “Enough talk!”
Julius felt his face flush and he took a step forward, the barrel of the rifle inches from his forehead.
“The Confed Marines must really be desperate for recruits,” he began. “I’m surprised Markson would let a trigger-happy whelp like you command a janitorial detachment, much less a diplomatic security detail.”
At that moment, a female voice spoke. “All of you,” she said. “Lower your weapons.”
The two of them ignored the voice and continued to eye each other.
“Who are you?” Xanthus asked.
The woman finally appeared from behind them, moving into the center of the group. Julius was able to get a view of her. Her hair was long and straight, the color of onyx. She wore an elegant gown with an intricate purple and black design that accentuated her slender figure.
“I am Chorus,” she began. “You came here for the A.I. I speak on behalf of the A.I. Let us please stop this aggressive posturing and instead talk.”
Julius ignored the sergeant and turned to face her.
How could she be here in physical form? He thought back to his history with the A.I.
Nanobots, of course.
It must have had a cache of them in the conduit.
He felt for the safety of the detonator remote in his pocket. If he had to, he could destroy her.
“Do as she says,” Xanthus said. “That is an order, Sergeant.”
The sergeant lowered his weapon, as did the other marines. Julius gave a nod to his crew and they complied as well.
“Let’s go somewhere to talk then,” Julius said. “Not here. Just you, Xanthus, and …” he pointed to Chorus. Her green eyes caught his gaze, and for a split second, he froze in reverie of her beauty. She was not a real woman, he had to remember that. “You.”
“Not a chance,” the sergeant barked, his rifle started to come up.
Julius raised his hand. “Fine, Sergeant. You can come too—but only you. The rest of your men can stay in the shuttle.”
The sergeant squinted his eyes. “Fine, Captain.”
He gave a hand signal to his marines, who retreated into the ship.
The four of them walked toward the elevator, Julius leading the way.
