Ghost Ranger

by Dayne Edmondson

  “I guess that’s comforting,” I said. “Are we really headed back to my quarters?”

  “We don’t have to go anywhere,” Terrence said, stopping in front of the transport tube doors. “We could go back to the bridge.”

  “No, I don’t want to be in my father’s hair again. Where does Isabelle go to train? Or spar? She mentioned a gym?”

  “There’s a gym down three decks. That’s the most likely one, as it’s for officers and above.”

  “Do you think I could get in?”

  “All the officers are busy leading the assault on Galatia IV,” Phillip replied. “They’re too busy to care right now.”

  “It’s an evacuation now,” I muttered.

  “What was that?” Phillip asked.

  I blinked. They hadn’t heard? “Ummm...my fa...the supreme commander...”

  “There’s no one around,” Delenn pointed out. A reminder I didn’t need to use the cover story in that moment.

  “I know. But I should probably get used to it.” I cleared my throat and continued. “The supreme commander ordered the Marines to pull out and evacuate all remaining civilians they could within forty-five minutes.”

  “Why?” Terrence asked.

  “They’re unleashing an airborne cure for the infected. They’re hopeful it will be a cure, anyway, but they didn’t have enough time to test on living patients.”

  Phillip whistled. “They’re just throwing down some untested gas or something?”

  “It’s a nanite-infused airborne thingy,” I said, using my best scientific-sounding words. “I don’t know. Jason...,”

  “Doctor Thorpe,” Terrence interjected.

  “Right. Doctor Thorpe said he had a high confidence it would work just like it had with me.” Okay, so maybe I exaggerated his confidence level a little.

  “Well, either way, we’re going to have a bunch of pissed off adrenaline-riddled Marines returning soon, so maybe the gym isn’t the best place for a pretty little thing like you to be right now.”

  Delenn punched Phillip in the shoulder. “Shut up, you chauvinist pig. Did you forget she’s a bloody undead killing machine now?”

  “Potentially,” I said as way of explanation or defense. “I don’t have any training in fighting.”

  “Neither did the one who tore up the medical wing a little bit ago,” Delenn fired back. “Or those who forced the Cheville to evacuate. Don’t underestimate your new abilities.”

  “All the more reason to learn my limits sooner than later,” I said. “To the gym.”

  Chapter 9

  The transport doors slid open, revealing the gym. Despite my guards’ claims, there were quite a few soldiers there already. They sparred on mats spread throughout the large chamber. Melee weapons of so many types I didn’t even know them all sat on racks along the walls. In the distance, I could hear muffled coilgun and laser shots, suggesting a firing range nearby.

  “Are you positive about this?” Terrence asked.

  “Yeah. There can be some rough types around here,” Phillip pointed out.

  “Isabelle said to meet her here,” I pointed out.

  “Yeah, but she didn’t say how long she’d be.”

  I shrugged. “Then teach me to fight while we wait.”

  Phillip burst out laughing. “What, you expect us to just teach you to fight in an afternoon?”

  “You could teach me the basics,” I said, feeling slightly hurt by the comment. “I felt helpless during the attack,” I explained. “Isabelle had to come to my rescue. I don’t want to feel helpless again.”

  “Well, your dearest cousin has thousands of years of experience, dear,” Philip replied.

  “I just want to know some self-defense moves.”

  “Fine. Who wants to teach her first?” Terrence asked.

  Surprisingly, Eleanor, who rarely spoke to me or the rest of the squad, raised her hand. “I’ll give it a go.”

  Terrence nodded and gestured to an open mat. “You’re up, then.”

  I followed Eleanor out to the mat and faced her.

  “Pick your weapon,” the guard said.

  “You’re going to fight me in armor?” I asked, eyebrow raised.

  “She has a point,” Phillip chimed in from the doorway.

  If Eleanor was annoyed, she showed no sign of it. Instead she nodded. “Fine.” A click and hiss emanated from her suit and her armor melted away, retracting to a point behind her.

  “Wow, that’s a neat trick,” I said, marveling at the technology on display.

  “Nano-armor,” Terence explained. “Standard issue for Shadow Watch Guards. It can retract into a backpack-sized lump on our backs and deploy to our full bodies in under three seconds.”

  “But Marines don’t get this type of armor?”

  “It’s too expensive for Marines to get standard issue. Some of the special ops groups, like the Rangers, will get the armor as part of their kit too.”

  “Oh. Cool.”

  “Let’s get on with it,” Eleanor said.

  For the first time, I studied Eleanor. The under-the-armor Eleanor. She had dark red hair cropped short, green eyes and a thin yet muscular build. She was about my height and studied me with a cold expression. Did she not like me? Her gruff speaking suggested not. But what had I done to offend her? Now wasn’t the time to ask.

  I spread my legs in my best imitation of what I’d seen in fighting holos. No one corrected me, so I assumed perhaps I had done it right. I assumed wrong.

  Eleanor advanced with a cool, calm confidence I admired. Then, she lashed out, seeking to slap me. When I went to bat her hand away, she body checked me, sending me stumbling back. Before I could recover, she lashed out with a leg and I felt myself falling. Pain in my butt confirmed I’d hit the ground. I’d barely let out a moan when her knee was on my chest and her outstretched hand was at my throat, imitating a knife. “You’re dead.”

  “Ow,” was all I managed to say. “That hurt.”

  “You have to use your speed to your advantage,” the guard said, getting off me and not sounding out of breath in the slightest. “You’re shorter and skinnier than most men, use that to your advantage. You couldn’t even hit me.”

  “But if she had, you could be dead right now,” Phillip said. They’d moved to a point along the wall, in front of the electro-staffs. “She has super strength, remember?”

  “She’s supposed to have super speed, too,” Eleanor shot back. “How much good did that do her?”

  Phillip could only shrug.

  “Again,” Eleanor said, taking up position on the opposite end of the mat even as I struggled to roll over and get to my feet with a groan. “This time you come at me,” she commanded.

  “Yeah, like that won’t end badly,” I said sarcastically, balling my hands into fists and preparing myself, mentally and physically, to attack her. I imagined my attack in my mind’s eye. I could turn her own moves against her, or grapple with her and use my superior strength. Or maybe do a jumping strike to tackle her to the ground or...

  A snoring noise jolted out of my thoughts. I looked over to find Phillip with his head down, mimicking sleeping. A loud noise emanated from his direction again.

  “Phillip?” I asked

  “Oh, sorry, lass, you were taking so long I fell asleep waiting. You gonna make a move?”

  Anger and embarrassment warred within me and I was left with my mouth open wide. At last I snapped my mouth shut and laughed half-heartedly. It was a joke, after all. “Okay, here I go,” I announced.

  “Don’t forget to announce that to your enemies,” Phillip shot back. “So they can be prepared and all...to kill you.”

  “Shut up,” I said in a higher tone than I intended. Without further commentary, I advanced. I chose to try the same move she had used, aiming to slap her with an open palm.

  She had other plans, of course, and leapt back, dodging my slap. Then, with my arm still outstretched, she grabbed my wrist and twisted.

  I yelped
in pain and surprise, though I maintain it was more surprise than pain. In that moment she brought her leg up and kicked me square in the chest while simultaneously releasing my wrist. I toppled backward but didn’t lose my balance this time.

  Instead of pursuing me, she stood there bouncing on the heels of her feet, ready to move in any direction.

  Gritting my teeth, I planned my next move. Clearly the frontal attack wouldn’t work, and we weren’t using weapons yet. What if I used her own strategy against her?

  I approached again, forcing myself to look apprehensive. She watched me with a lazy expression, her posture indicating I was not a threat. When I swung my arm to slap her like I had the first time, she grabbed my wrist, just like last time. She grinned savagely as her leg lifted again.

  For a moment, everything seemed to slow. Her leg moved at a crawl, or so it seemed to me. It moved slow enough that I was able to grab onto her ankle with my other hand, halting her blow.

  There we were, my wrist in her hand and her ankle in my other hand. She hopped on one foot, trying to reposition herself.

  I smiled triumphantly. “Got yo...”

  My words were cut short as she let go of my wrist and, taking a big hop, swung her other leg around to wrap around my neck. Her weight, now on my neck and in my hand, hit me in that moment but I continued to hold on to her ankle. Her weight seemed more insignificant than I would have thought.

  But then the blows landed, for her leg around my neck had given her a height advantage, and she was making the most of it. She slapped the top, front and back of my head with both hands, causing me to wince and release her ankle, then fall forward as she fell backward on purpose, dragging my head toward the floor.

  I smelled sweaty synthetic fabric as my chin met the mat with her leg still around my neck.

  “Do you submit?” she asked.

  I thought about pushing up, trying to buck her off like a bronco. Or reaching up and grabbing her, but I realized I’d lost. If she’d had a knife or a pistol, it would have been over for me.

  “Yes.” I sighed with resignation as she unwrapped her leg from around my neck and came to a standing position once more.

  “That wasn’t bad,” she commented. “You’re learning.”

  I blinked, as much caught off guard by her comment than if she’d punched me in the gut. “Uh, thanks?”

  “Now let’s try with weapons,” Eleanor said, pointing toward my guards. “The electro-staffs.”

  “Oh,” Phillip said, moving aside and grabbing two staves, then tossing them to us. “This oughta be fun.”

  “Set them on the lowest setting,” Terrence cautioned, arms crossed.

  “Yes, father,” Eleanor said. “Taking all the fun out of this.”

  “Her father would not be pleased if his daughter were electrocuted on her second day in our care,” he replied.

  His subordinate shrugged. “He might understand if we told him it was during training.”

  “Lowest setting,” Terrence reiterated. “That’s an order.”

  Eleanor gave a half-hearted two-finger salute and hefted her staff. “You ready?” she asked, looking over at me.

  I lifted the staff, its weight feeling unfamiliar to me. I’d never even played with wooden staves as a kid, let alone electro-staffs. “How do I...oh,” I said, the charged end, consisting of two metal rods flanking a central spike, spinning to life and throwing off electrical sparks as I found the on button. The opposite end of the staff boasted a wide butt but no spikes or damage-inflicting elements from what I could see.

  “That’s the one-sided variant,” Phillip called.

  “There’s a two-sided kind?” I asked, skeptical.

  “You betcha. You don’t want to slam that into a metal deck by your feet. Trust me.”

  “You speak from experience,” I said.

  “That may or may not have happened to me,” he said.

  I chuckled, his levity welcome. “Good to know.” I wiped the grin off my face and focused on tactics I could use with the staff. I could use it like a spear, seeking to stab her with the shocking end. Or I could swing it like a halberd, basically an axe attached to a spear handle, like I’d seen in the classic holos. I could throw it like a javelin, too, if I wanted to risk her swiping it out of mid-air and having two of the weapons. No, nix that idea.

  Eleanor, sensing my hesitation, decided to show off and her skills by spinning her staff, causing it to form what appeared to be a seamless glowing circle of blueish white light, framing her. It was like looking at a person standing behind a spinning fan. She strode toward me, staff continuing its spin unabated.

  When she was a few feet from me, I thrust with my own staff, hoping to break the rotation of her staff and throw her off guard. Like if you stuck a knife into a fan while it was spinning.

  Unfortunately, when I thrust, she was ready. The rotation stopped immediately, and she held the haft of the staff up to catch my staff head between the central post and one of the spinning rods. The rods protested, as their motion was arrested, and sparks flew as electricity arced between the rods and the staff haft. How she was not electrocuted was beyond me. Granted, the staves were on the lowest setting.

  I pushed with my staff, hoping to overwhelm her with my strength.

  She let go of the staff with one hand, letting her staff swivel in her hand. Faced with the lack of counter-pressure, I stumbled forward. Before I could turn, I felt a poke on my back and my muscles seized as a low current surged through my body. My knees buckled and I slumped to the floor, staff still clutched in hands that couldn’t let go.

  The poking sensation on my back ceased and the current running through my body went with it. “And you’re dead,” Eleanor said in what I considered a smug tone. “Or would be soon enough, once you’re incapacitated.”

  “Ugh,” I said, waiting for the sensation to pass so I could regain control of my muscles. Surprisingly, it happened quicker than I thought. Maybe it had to do with the nanites they’d injected into me. Moments later I was standing up again, even if I leaned against my staff for support. “I’m up, I’m ready. Let’s keep going.”

  A slow clapping from my right caught my attention. I turned to look and found Isabelle there.

  She wore a tight-fitting black synth suit with a utility belt around her waist. A pair of long daggers and two full holsters hung from it, along with a variety of pouches. “Bravo,” she said with a smirk. “Good try.”

  I felt embarrassed that my friend had to see me fail so badly, but then I remembered she was more than my friend. She was my cousin, and a secret agent. That would be like a child being embarrassed at being dropped in front of a trained soldier while playing with toy swords. “Thanks,” I said. “Just trying to get some self-defense pointers.”

  She nodded slowly. “Well, to start you need to learn your limits. You have speed and strength beyond normal humans, but you’re not using it.”

  “I did use it,” I protested. “Earlier.”

  “Well, you’re not using it to your fullest extent,” my cousin shot back. “You need to know how far your body can go before you get into a situation where you’ll need it to.”

  “You mean like combat?” I asked. “I don’t plan on being in combat any time soon.”

  “Sometimes combat finds you,” Isabelle said cryptically.

  “That should be on a poster,” Phillip called from where he stood with the other guards.

  “Shut up,” Isabelle and I said at once. Just like old times, when we told Nelson to shut up when he’d try to say pithy things in class. It made me smile. Just like old times. Perhaps the only thing that was still like old times.

  “As I was saying, sometimes you can’t avoid situations where you might need to know how to fight, how to truly fight.”

  “I’m going to school to be a nurse,” I pointed out. “I doubt I’ll see much combat in a hospital.”

  “You should consider joining the military,” she said bluntly.

  I shook
my head vehemently. “No, that’s not my place. I want to help people.”

  “Hey,” Phillip protested. “We help people.”

  “As do I,” Isabelle said, eyebrow raised.

  “I didn’t mean it that way. I don’t want to hurt some while protecting others.”

  “We usually hurt the bad guys,” Isabelle pointed out.

  “I know, but still,” I said, not willing to contemplate joining the military. “It’s just not right for me.” I neglected to mention the real reason why it wasn’t right - that I feared dying like my mother. That I was angry at the Federation for taking my mother from me and leaving me believing my father was someone he wasn’t.

  “Well, if you ever change your mind, they’ll be happy to have you. In the meantime, let’s give you some more practice. First, let’s test your agility.”

  Without warning, Isabelle withdrew a knife from her belt in one smooth motion and tossed it toward me.

  Time seemed to slow as the knife pierced the air. Then, when it was a foot from my face, I snatched it out of the air, blade in my hand. “Ow,” I said, dropping the knife and looking at the blood dripping from the wound I’d gained grabbing the knife. But as I watched, the wound healed, leaving drying blood on my palm.

  “You should grab it by the hilt,” Isabelle said.

  I rolled my eyes. “Thanks, next time I’ll use my super-human speed to grab a different part of the knife.”

  “Yes, you will,” she replied. Then she snapped her fingers and pointed toward my three guards still in armor. Eleanor had rejoined them but had yet to armor up again. “You three, charge her and dog pile.”

  “Us?” Terrence asked.

  “With our armor on?” Phillip asked.

  “Yes, you three, and yes, with your armor on. Don’t worry, she has super strength.”

  I groaned. If this was what she called practice, what would she call real training for the military? A stampede? Bullets instead of knives?

  “Get going,” Isabelle prompted.

  “Sorry, kid,” Terrence said. He charged forward, the other two following.

  I braced myself, throwing one leg behind me and thrusting my arms out in front of me, as if I could block the three armored Shadow Watch Guards barreling toward me, albeit in slower motion due to my enhanced reflexes.