Galactic Wars

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Galactic Wars Page 13

by G. P. Hudson


  “I understand. Lower your weapons. I freed Danny, and I trust him. If he trusts G325, then that is good enough for me. Besides, we need to free more Zeta contractors, so we might as well start with G325.”

  Hesitantly, David lowered his weapon, and nodded to the others to do the same.

  “Thank you, Isaac,” said Danny. “Now can we discuss this on the road? More contractors will be arriving any minute.

  “Of course, my boy,” said Isaac. He turned and waved for Catherine and the girls to come out, and they all piled into the vehicle.

  Danny noted that David and his men made sure to sit directly behind him and G325, weapons still in hand. As long as they didn’t ‘accidentally’ go off, Danny didn’t care. Danny drove away, eager to put plenty of distance between them, and the dead bodies in that house.

  “Who’s your friend, Danny?” said Jess from the back row.

  “This is G325,” said Danny. “She’s is my sister.”

  “What kind of name is G325?”

  “It’s a Zeta designation,” said G325.

  “Don’t you want to have a normal name like Danny?”

  “Yes. I think that is a good idea.”

  “Can we help you pick one?”

  “Later,” said Isaac. “We have more important matters to deal with right now. For one, we must disable G325’s broadcast.”

  “Isaac’s right,” said Danny. “Zeta will be able to track us if we don’t. But I thought all your equipment was on the plane?”

  “It was,” said Isaac. “But the headband is remarkably pliable, and fits easily in my pocket.” Isaac reached into his shirt pocket and produced a small case. Opening it, he unfolded the same headband he had used on Danny. “Here, pass this up to her.”

  G325 was given the headband, and held it in her hand, studying it.

  “Well, put it on,” said Isaac. “I can’t help you if it’s in your hands.”

  “You did this, little brother?” G325 said suspiciously.

  “Yes,” said Danny. “Go ahead.”

  G325 put the headband on and Isaac pulled something else out of another pocket. Danny watched in the mirror as Isaac unfolded the translucent, paper thin, computer.

  “I am going to connect to the headband now, and that will give me access to your brain implant. Are you ready?” said Isaac.

  “Ready? Why? Is this painful?”

  “There is some discomfort associated with the procedure,” said Isaac.

  Danny laughed.

  “What’s so funny?” said G325.

  “You’ll see,” said Danny, remembering his own experience with the headband.

  G325 arched her back, and her eyes rolled into her head as Isaac went to work. She rolled her fists into balls, and clenched her jaw, as she endured what Danny knew was intensely painful. To her credit, however, she didn’t rip the headband off her skull. Moments later, her body went slack, and her eyes bulged as she gasped for air.

  “There,” said Isaac. “All done. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  Catching her breath, G325 said, “What did you do?”

  “I hacked your brain.”

  “What?”

  “I disabled your broadcast, so that Zeta can’t track us anymore. I also removed Zeta’s control over you, and gave it back to you. I have freed you, my girl.”

  “But I don’t feel any different,” said G325.

  “I said the same thing,” said Danny. “Try this. Think about Zeta for a second.”

  “Okay.”

  “What do you feel?”

  “Nothing. Why?”

  “Do you feel the same fierce loyalty to Zeta? Would you be willing to sacrifice yourself if they told you to?”

  G325 went quiet for a bit, mulling the question over. “No. I wouldn’t. Not without a good reason. If we were in battle, then that is different. I would die for you, little brother. You know that. Nothing has changed there. But I wouldn’t just lay down my life without question for Zeta. Not anymore.”

  “Then you’re free, sister.”

  “What about your name?” Jess insisted. “You need a name.”

  “It seems I do. How did you get your name, little brother?”

  “It was given to me when I was activated. The two women who gave me my uniform. One of them, Sarah, wanted to name me. She called me Danny. I had almost forgotten about it, but when I met the girls, and really had lost my memory, that name came to me.”

  “Then it is only fitting that someone gives me my name,” said G325. She then turned to face Catherine and the girls in the back row. “Catherine, you are a mother. Would you do me the honor of naming me?”

  “I… I don’t know,” Catherine said in surprise.

  “Yes, you should name her, mom. Please,” Jess pleaded.

  “Okay, how about Geraldine,” said Catherine. “It was my mother’s name, and it starts with a G like your designation. Everyone called her Gerry.”

  “Gerry,” G325 repeated. “It’s perfect. From now on, my name is Gerry. Thank you, Catherine.”

  “You’re welcome, Gerry.”

  Chapter 37

  “Identifying contact,” said Captain Travers. “The configuration is consistent with that of a cargo ship.”

  “Do we know what world it is from?” said Vice Admiral Reynolds, knowing that the chaotic nature of metaspace made anything more than a guess impossible.

  “Based on its vector, its point of origin would be the Rapaxian system.”

  “Good enough. Is there any sign of an escort?”

  “No escort. They’re alone.”

  “That is careless of them,” said Reynolds. “Let them come a little closer before taking action.” There had been a time when cargo vessels wouldn’t dare travel through metaspace unaccompanied, for fear of pirates. That scourge had long since been eradicated, allowing merchant ships to travel unmolested. Reynolds himself had been part of that early solution. Unfortunately for the poor souls on the cargo vessel, the days of safe travel between Frontier Alliance worlds was at an end.

  This would be the third ship he destroyed in metaspace. So far, there had been no reaction, which was unsurprising. He didn’t think anybody knew what was happening yet. Soon enough, someone would take notice, and investigate. Talk of the pirates’ return would spread, and warships would be dispatched to deal with the menace. Those ships would be destroyed, promoting a stronger response. It would result in an amusing game of hide and seek.

  “Sir, the cargo vessel is close enough for its sensors to pick up our ships,” said Travers.

  “Very well. Send a Zeta ship to deal with it.”

  “Aye, Sir.”

  One of the massive Zeta warships broke formation to meet the cargo vessel. The lumbering civilian vessel seemed to realize what was happening, and attempted a course change. But as most vessels built for transporting goods, rather than maneuverability, it had no hope of turning around in time, let alone outrunning the state of the art warship.

  The Zeta battleship gained steadily on the hapless vessel, like a shark closing in on a lone swimmer.

  “The Zeta ship is within weapons range.” Noted Travers

  A powerful plasma blast burst forth and struck the prone vessel, burning through the weak, unshielded hull. The beam sliced vertically across, melting the metal, and tearing the ship in two.

  As the cargo ship’s contents spilled into the unforgiving void, the menacing warship came about and returned to its place in the formation.

  Reynolds watched the brief engagement unfold on the main viewscreen, choosing to forego the computer representation. He wasn’t sure how long their metaspace assignment would be, but he wanted to keep his eyes in shape. The computer representation was accurate enough, but he always believed it important to adapt to the environment.

  The rest of the crew wouldn’t be able to discern what was happening without the aid of the computers, his XO included. For now, he didn’t object. If they were to stay in metaspace for longer than anticipated, h
e would force his bridge crew to adapt.

  “Cargo vessel has been destroyed,” Travers announced.

  “Very well,” said Reynolds. “Maintain position. There should be another before long.”

  “Aye, Sir.”

  Reynolds leaned his head back. Tired. He hadn’t slept well the past few days. He suspected that metaspace itself might be the culprit. He used to be impervious to metaspace fatigue. Old age rearing its ugly head again, he thought. I’ll need to take another stim soon. That pain in the ass doctor is bound to give me hell for it. He just loves lording his power over me. The prick. One of these days I’ll have to find a reason to airlock him.

  What he needed more than stims was regeneration. But that was a service well beyond his meager salary. Indeed, regeneration was so cost prohibitive that only the aristocracy, and the business elite could afford it. The rest of humanity lived and died like they always had. Of course, medical advances ensured that they lived a lot longer than previous generations. But they still got old. And weak.

  Reynolds did not fear death. He had been a soldier for most of his life, and had accepted death long ago. He feared outliving his usefulness. Old age. Weakness. Retirement. He could endure any hardship, but had no stomach for that.

  Reaching into his pocket, he furtively produced his last stim. The paper thin, translucent strip dissolved instantly on the back of his hand. Straight to the blood stream, it provided the fuel he needed. He began to feel better almost immediately. In no time, he felt energized. Alert. Renewed.

  “Sir, our scouts are reporting new contacts on their long-range scans,” said Travers. “Early assessment is indicating that they may be military vessels.”

  “Excellent,” said Reynolds. “Have we determined their course?”

  “Yes, Sir. They appear to be traveling to the Tran home world.”

  “Good. Let’s not scare them off. Order the fleet to remain outside the enemy’s sensor range. I want to personally greet those ships. Order three Zeta ships to accompany us, and set a course around the enemy, so that we slip behind them unnoticed.”

  “Aye, Sir,” said Travers. “Orders sent.”

  Leaving the rest of the fleet behind, the Valiant and the designated Zeta warships set off to flank the military vessels. They couldn’t see the ships, and relied on scouting reports indicating their trajectory to guide them. Several vessels had been positioned to act as relays, facilitating communication with all ships. That allowed Reynolds to keep his ships out of sight. He couldn’t know how advanced their sensors were, but he felt comfortable that they likely weren’t as sophisticated as the ones on his own capital ship. Even if they were, if the Valiant couldn’t see them, he was certain that they couldn’t see the Valiant.

  Metaspace generally wreaked havoc on a ship’s sensors, drastically reducing their effective range. That was one of the prices one had to pay for metaspace travel, and dramatically reduced travel times. But it also allowed Reynolds to quickly flank the two warships.

  “We are in position, Sir,” said Travers, once the maneuver was complete.

  “Order our ships to close with the enemy, Captain,” said Reynolds.

  “Aye, Sir. Relaying orders.”

  As they moved in on the enemy’s position, the two ships finally appeared as two red threat icons on Reynolds’s tactical display. Savoring every moment of the hunt, Reynolds watched with anticipation as the gap between his ships and the enemy was rapidly closed.

  “They’re changing course and accelerating, Sir,” said Travers. “They’ve spotted us.”

  “Increase speed,” Reynolds ordered. “Don’t let them get away.”

  “Aye, Sir. Increasing speed.”

  “Are we still in contact with our scouts?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Have them relay a message to the fleet indicating the enemy’s revised course. Have the fleet move into position to block their path. Let’s tighten the noose a bit.”

  “Aye, Sir. Orders sent.”

  The enemy ships continued to run, eventually spotting the UEDF fleet lying in wait. They adjusted course, to no avail. Reynolds, and now his fleet, matched their course changes. Reynolds ghoulishly monitored the developments on his tactical screen, enjoying the game.

  “Sir, we are receiving a transmission from the enemy,” said Travers. “They are offering their surrender.”

  “Surrender?”

  “Yes, Sir. They know they can’t outrun us.”

  “That’s just downright unsportsmanlike,” said Reynolds, not bothering to hide his irritation.

  “They’re slowing, and standing down. I’ve ordered boarding teams to stand by.”

  “Boarding teams? What the hell are you talking about, Captain?”

  “The enemy has surrendered, Sir. The logical response is to commandeer their ships.”

  “Our orders said nothing about capturing ships, and taking prisoners, and I don’t intend to start.”

  “Sir?”

  “Prepare to destroy the enemy vessels, Captain. All ships are to open fire once we are in range.”

  “Uh… Yes, Sir.”

  Reynolds shook his head disapprovingly. Travers was a competent officer, but at times like these, he wondered whether the man had what it took to get the job done. He wasn’t willing to give up on him yet, and under his guidance, he might be able to turn him around. But damn, it was frustrating.

  As the Valiant and the Zeta battleships came into range, they simultaneously opened fire on the unsuspecting ships. There was no evasive maneuvering, not a single return shot fired. The entire exchange was pathetic. It took much of the joy out of the victory. If this was all that the Frontier Alliance had to offer, the Emperor should go ahead and invade.

  Chapter 38

  Zeta Chief Strategy Officer, Kim Lee, had waited a long time for this day. She had spent years advising Ed Masterson, expanding Zeta Corp. She watched as he grew more powerful, and the Empire became increasingly impotent. Most importantly, she gained his trust, and became his closest adviser.

  She’d always pretended to respect and admire the man. She even consented to the odd late-night meeting, despite how it made her skin crawl. The man was an opportunist in every way, and it sickened her. But she knew how to hide. She had been well trained, and Masterson never showed signs of suspicion.

  The truth was that the man’s ego was far too big for him to ever suspect her. How could he accept the fact that Kim Lee, his trusted prodigy, despised him? How could he ever come to believe that everything she had ever said to him, all the admiration and praise, was just an elaborate ruse?

  Today was the day. She had received her orders. The Emperor had finally had enough. Today she would rid the galaxy of the parasite known as Ed Masterson. With his death, she would take over Zeta Corp in the name of the Empire, utilizing its substantial resources to help crush this pathetic rebellion.

  Marching toward Masterson’s office, she ruminated on how this one act would change the course of history. How her act of patriotism would restore the Empire to its previous glory. Her name would be praised for centuries. The galaxy would remember her as a true patriot, who faithfully performed her duty without question. Future generations would aspire to reach her level of loyalty and sacrifice.

  It had been a long road. She spent years working covertly at Zeta Corp. It would be nice to deal with this matter once and for all. She wondered if she should take a vacation after the dust settled. Perhaps a week or two on one of the Imperial islands back on Earth. Surely the Emperor would approve the request, after all she had accomplished. She could practically feel the hot sand beneath her feet.

  Reaching his office, the computer notified Masterson of her presence. As expected, the door slid open without question. Lee strode into the room and found the President and CEO of Zeta Corp seated at his desk, pouring over the latest reports. He looked up, they made eye contact, and even now she carefully maintained her well-practiced facade.

  “Did you know that Isaac tur
ned another of our clones? It was G325. B732’s friend. The clone killed her entire team. I still can’t believe it,” he said, shaking his head. “I made a mistake sending her after Isaac. I thought proving that B732 was a traitor was enough to convince G325. I won’t make that same mistake again.” Masterson paused, peering at her. “Is something wrong? You seem different.”

  I must act now, she thought. He can tell something’s not right. Her arm came up in one smooth motion, revealing the small, lethal plasma weapon she held.

  Masterson’s eyes widened in surprise. He quickly regained his composure. He seemed calm, as if he was sure his life was not about to end. “What are you doing, Kim?” he said almost clinically.

  “My duty,” she said. “The Emperor has no further need of your services.”

  He raised only his eyebrows, his body remaining perfectly still. “Is that right? What happens now? You shoot me and hand over my company to the Empire?”

  “Something like that,” said Lee, her weapon pointed right at Masterson’s forehead. She felt good. Relaxed. She was an expert shot, and even if she wasn’t, it would be hard to miss at this range.

  “Don’t you think I have the right to a trial?” Masterson continued. “I mean, this is cold blooded murder. Highly illegal. Really, I expected more of you, Kim.”

  “Are you joking? You’re the last person who should be complaining about the law. No, Ed, this is it. Any last words?”

  “Yes. I wish things turned out differently between us.”

  Lee shrugged and pulled the trigger. A plasma blast surged forth and burned through the chair, and the wall behind it. The chair toppled to the floor, without Masterson in it.

  Lee didn’t have time to question what had happened. Instead she wheeled around, firing at the blur that was supposed to be her target. Kim Lee was not a clone, but she had been augmented by the UEDF. She was faster than most humans. Yet, as fast as she was, as well trained, she couldn’t keep up.

  The blur that was Ed Masterson side stepped each shot, closed in, and struck. The weapon went flying out of her hand, and the sound of breaking bone filled her right ear. Another blow and her legs were off the ground. She hit the floor hard. Too hard. It knocked the wind out of her. She gasped for air. Bewildered.

 

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