by G J Ogden
“It’s a shame I can’t just kill you here,” Zahn said through gritted teeth as she tightened her hold around Maria’s neck. Maria pulled desperately at her arm, trying to release the pressure on her windpipe, but Zahn’s hold stayed strong. “The great Commander Maria Salus… I’m disappointed.”
Maria could feel her strength failing, but then in the corner of her eye she saw that the clasp of her silver bracelet had come undone and was jutting out at right angles from her wrist. Summoning all her remaining strength, she twisted her arm and sank the sharp metal spur into Zahn’s temple, then raked it down savagely, slashing a rough gash across her face and eye. The soldier screamed and released her hold, stumbling backwards with a hand pressed over the torn flesh. Coughing and gasping for air, Maria scrambled away down the corridor to put some distance between them.
“You’ll pay for that!” cried Zahn, blood streaming from her eye. She reached into a compartment in her body armor and pulled out a flick knife, the blade no longer than her forefinger, and flashed it towards Maria.
“Kuba may want you alive, but he didn’t say he needed you in one piece!”
Maria glared back at the soldier, then examined the knife glinting in her hand. If Zahn was going to switch things up then she would have to switch up higher. She reached behind her back and under the cloak, feeling the cool metal grip of the sidearm, still nestled into the waistband of her pants. Zahn danced forward, teasing the blade to Maria, her cruel mouth twisted into a tight-lipped grimace, but before the soldier could get within striking range, Maria had drawn the sidearm, aimed it at Zahn’s head and fired once, sending the bullet through her undamaged eye and into her brain. The soldier slumped to her knees and then crumpled into a lifeless heap at Maria’s feet.
Maria let the weapon drop to her side, suddenly overwhelmed by fatigue, and checked her PVSM; there were less than ten minutes to go until Ashley would be in position. She massaged her neck, which felt tight and sore, and then saw the glinting blade of Zahn’s switch knife, still pressed into her hand. She returned the pistol to her waistband, reached down and prized the weapon from the soldier’s fingers, retracting the blade in the process, and placed it in the pocket of her cloak. Blood dripped from the clasp of her bracelet and splattered onto the black body armor of the dead soldier. She wiped it clean using a fold of the cloak, perversely wondering if Etta would be upset at the mess she was making of her outfit, and then clicked the clasp shut again. Karl was right, this thing is good luck, she said to herself.
Stepping over Zahn, she made her way back to the elevator and hit the call button again. While she waited, she steeled herself for the task ahead, mentally preparing for the potential of another fight, and the possibility that she would also find Page already dead, murdered by the sadistic soldier lying lifeless behind her. The lift doors opened and she stepped inside, pressing the button for the Teardrop. The elevator accelerated and Maria legs almost gave way under the added pressure. She laughed, remembering how the same thing had happened to Ethan when they had both traveled to the Teardrop under very different circumstances five years earlier, and she wondered how he was, and if he was safe. She may have left him and the three-hundred survivors from the GPS space station behind, but they were rarely far from her thoughts, especially the planetsider who had changed her life.
The elevator continued to climb, passing two-thirds of the distance up the long metal column upon which the Teardrop rested. She thought back to the other times she had been inside this strange building; it had been built to usher in an era of peace over a century ago, but had only ever played host to acts of deceit, malice and murder. Maybe this was a chance to redress the balance, she wondered. She pressed her body to the elevator wall beside the door, drew the pistol again, and prepared for the sudden deceleration, which nearly lifted her feet off the floor. The door pinged open, and she waited.
“Zahn, is that you?” a voice called out. Maria’s muscles tensed up, but she said nothing. “Zahn?” came the voice again. Seconds later the head of a young male soldier poked in, and Maria saw the flash of terror in his eyes before she brought down the barrel of the pistol across the back of his head like a hammer. She dragged the body inside the elevator but left a foot on the threshold, preventing the doors from closing again, and then stepped out into the small chamber that lead to the main conference room. She could see the door up ahead, and cautiously crept towards it. Through the small porthole window, she could make out Page, bound into a chair and slumped forward, either unconscious or dead. She tried to put that second possibility out of her mind, and surveyed the rest of the room, or what she could make out through the window, but she could not see Kuba or any other soldiers.
Maria checked her PVSM and saw that fewer than five minutes remained. There was no choice but to keep moving on; she had not come this far only to falter at the last stage. She grabbed the door handle with her left hand, raised her pistol in readiness and burst through the door, checking left and right, but the villainous politician was nowhere to be found.
Maria cursed and then clicked on the weapon’s safety and stowed it again down the back of her pants. She ran over to Page, grabbed his shoulders and pressed him up against the backrest of the chair.
“Karl… Karl, can you hear me?” she called to him, while shaking his shoulders gently. His face was cut and bloodied and the area around his right eye was puffy and swollen. She felt for a pulse and an enormous sense of relief washed over her; he was still alive.
“Karl, wake up…” Maria called to him, and he groaned as Maria continued to shake his shoulders. She removed the flick knife from her cloak and ejected the blade, then shifted around the back of the chair to where Page’s hands were bound together.
“Please step away, Miss Salus.”
Maria froze and looked up. It was Kuba; he was on the opposite side of the room, standing just inside the archway that led to the main elevator. In his hand was a pistol, which was raised and aimed at her.
“Stand up, please, very slowly, and show me your hands. I may be a humble politician, but one of my few hobbies is marksmanship and I assure you that, at this distance, you are not a difficult target.”
Maria pressed the knife into Page’s hands, pricking his skin with the tip of the short blade. Come on, take it!
“I will not say it again,” Kuba urged. “Stand up and move away from the Major, and please keep your hands where I can see them.”
Take it, Karl! Maria screamed in her mind, pressing the blade harder so that it cut Page’s hand; then, suddenly, he gripped it and Maria stood up, slowly, and raised her hands to shoulder height.
“Move to the side, please,” said Kuba, indicating the intended direction with a wave of the pistol.
Maria stepped away from Page and moved alongside the great black table that filled the center of the room. Kuba slowly approached her, careful not to allow his aim to waver even for a split-second.
“Killed while attempting to rescue your partner in crime,” Kuba said, with a broad, saccharin smile on his face. Maria didn’t think there was anything she could detest more than Kuba’s faked half-smile, but somehow this new look was even more repugnant.
“I could not have wished for a more perfect end.” Kuba released a short, smug laugh. “No-one will know. Nothing leaves this room. I decide what is real, Miss Salus. I decide the truth. Do you wish to know what the truth is?”
“I’m sure you’re going to tell me anyway, you pompous little abscess,” snarled Maria. In her peripheral vision, she could see Page stir.
“Please, Miss Salus!” said Kuba, placing his left hand to his heart and feigning injury. “Such insults do not become you.”
Page heard voices, distant, but familiar. He tried to open his eyes, but he could only see dimly through one, and it revealed only shadows. His face and body ached, and he felt the sharp prick of metal stabbing into his palm. He tried to free himself, but his hands would not move; and then he remembered... Kuba. Zahn. I’m in the Tea
rdrop! Through his half-closed eye he began to make out the figures more clearly; one was the unmistakable dumpling form of Jacob Kuba, but the other he could not see.
“It won’t matter if you kill me, Kuba,” said Maria. “The resistance is real and gathering strength. Kurren is dead, and I hear you already took care of Darien. Once the people find out what you’ve done, your little empire will crumble around you.”
“The resistance means nothing!” spat Kuba, dismissively. “I control the military and the government, which means my word is law. Darien was weak and gutless; I have found stronger soldiers to replace him.”
“You mean like your blond-haired friend?” said Maria, smiling back at him. Kuba’s eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry to say, you’re going to have to find yourself another pet.”
Kuba scowled and gritted his teeth, adding gentle pressure to the trigger; he wanted to shoot her, but then he stopped, and smiled again. It wasn’t enough to kill her; he needed to beat her, and to make her recognize that he, Jacob Kuba, had outplayed and out-thought them all. All of these arrogant and self-righteous soldiers and pilots who had believed themselves so superior to him would learn the error of their ways. Archer, Kurren, Darien, even Diana Neviah; they had all paid the price. And next would be the famous Maria Salus herself; the daring pilot with whom it had all begun. Fitting then that it would end with her also.
Maria! Page suddenly recognized the voice, and then he also recognized the cold feel of the blade in his hands. He maneuvered the handle and began to saw at his binds, keeping his eye shut and trying to minimize his movement as much as possible. The blade cut into his flesh as well as the binds, but he continued sawing and finally the first bond snapped loose.
“Zahn was nothing; there are a dozen more like her waiting to step up,” said Kuba, desperate to ensure he had the last word. “You have lost, Miss Salus. I just wanted you to know that, before the end.”
Maria could see that Page was stirring, and in that instant, she knew she had to act or be killed where she stood. She reached for the weapon tucked into her waistband and a sharp crack filled her ears. The room went blank and she had the sensation of falling. The next thing she knew she was on the floor of the Teardrop, with blood seeping out around her body. Kuba was standing over her, silhouetted by the light of the dome filtering through the translucent glass bubble that enclosed them.
“Goodbye, Miss Salus.”
Chapter 21
Ashley Jansen strolled out onto the flight deck of the small training sector spaceport, carrying the comms package that would be used to override the base-wide holo system and transmit Maria’s broadcast. She was wearing her old flight suit which, combined with the fact she had rarely been seen on the deck in recent years, drew the attention of the deck officer. Ashley waved to him, cordially, but did not stop, and continued on towards the training fighter that was parked up on deck. General Kurren had halted all training flights before he had departed for the planet, and neither Darien nor Kuba had rescinded the order, so she was taking a gamble on the ship being fueled and ready.
“Hello, sir, I must admit I’m surprised to see you here,” said the deck officer, jogging to catch up with Ashley. It was common for people to still address Ashley as sir, despite her technically no longer holding an official rank.
“Yes, well, once a pilot, always a pilot!” said Ashley, smiling, and still not stopping.
The deck officer matched Ashley’s brisk pace. “I’m afraid all training flights are still grounded, sir; General Kurren’s order still stands.”
“Oh, I’m not planning to take anything out,” said Ashley. “I just need to check that this comms package fits correctly for a future training plan I’m working on. I think they’ve tweaked the cockpit layout since I last flew.”
“I’m afraid I can’t allow you in the cockpit, sir, not without running your authorization first,” the deck officer replied, sounding agitated.
Ashley reached the docking pad and went directly to the control console. Setting down the comms package beside the console, she slid a hacked ident into the reader and powered up the display.
“Sir, please, I will have to insist that you stop,” the deck officer continued, becoming visibly flustered.
Their exchange had drawn the attention of a Security Corps patrol, and two soldiers began to march towards the ship from the opposite side of the small spaceport. Ashley knew that all of the space ports had been placed under the authority of sector commanders; it was another standing order from Kurren that had not been withdrawn.
“I won’t be a moment…” said Ashley, and paused to read the name badge on his overalls, “…Sergeant Nott. I just need five minutes, that’s all.”
Nott had spotted the approaching patrol, and shifted uncomfortably. “Look, sir, if it was up to me you could take this thing out for a spin around the whole damn moon, but it’s not my call.” He glanced behind Ashley and saw that the soldiers had entered the pad. “Oh, hell, they’re here. Walk away, sir, while you still can.”
Ashley had seen the soldiers too, and worked faster to finish the pre-launch sequence and set up her next move.
“Step away from the console,” said the lead soldier, keeping his rifle held low. Ashley did not respond, and the soldier raised the barrel of the rifle, aiming it at her torso. “All flights are grounded, so please step away.”
Ashley ignored the soldier and continued working. “I won’t ask again... I will count to three…”
Sergeant Nott stepped back and away from the line of fire, but continued to watch Ashley nervously.
“One…”
Ashley finished entering the command sequence. “Very well, just give me a moment to shut down the pre-ignition sequence,” she said, shooting the soldier a cross look.
“Two… Step back now, this is your last warning.”
Ashley initiated the command and then stepped back, raising her hands. “Honestly, this is preposterous!”
The soldier bustled forward and hurriedly inspected the console, while the second raised his rifle and covered Ashley. “What were you doing here?”
Ashley smiled. “Just clearing out the trash.”
Alarms sounded all around the space port, causing Nott and the two soldiers to jump, but Ashley simply folded her arms and waited. A row of red warning lamps rose out of the decking, lining a path to the gate of the space port, followed soon after by an automated message that blared out at an even more alarming volume than the sirens.
‘DECOMPRESSION WARNING
FAIL-SAFES NON-OPERATIONAL
LOCK-DOWN IN SIXTY SECONDS
EXIT IMMEDIATELY’
Sergeant Nott darted to the control panel, barging the soldier out of the way. “What have you done?!”
The second soldier stepped forward and jabbed the barrel of the rifle into Ashley’s sternum. “Make it stop, now!” he commanded, but Ashley stood firm, and swatted the barrel of the rifle away from her body. “No.”
The soldier spun around and grabbed Nott by the collar of his overalls. “You! Turn this off! Do it now!”
“I can’t! She’s locked the system somehow!” he shouted back, hammering desperately at the panel to find a way to reverse the process.
‘DECOMPRESSION WARNING
LOCK-DOWN IN FORTY SECONDS
EXIT IMMEDIATELY’
“I suggest you leave, unless you want to be vented into space,” said Ashley, resolutely.
“But you’ll die too!” cried Nott.
“I intend to die here. Do you?”
Sergeant Nott stared back into Ashley’s eyes and saw her conviction, then he glanced at each of the soldiers in turn, eyes wide with terror, and sprinted for the gate.
“Stop!” cried the soldier, but Nott was already half-way across the deck and running hard, joining others who had also scrambled to the exit to avoid being blown out into the cold vacuum of space.
‘DECOMPRESSION WARNING
LOCK-DOWN IN THIRTY SECONDS
EXIT
IMMEDIATELY’
The emergency bulkhead slowly began to whir shut, cutting-off the space port from the rest of the sector to protect the base from being compromised.
“Last chance,” said Ashley, coolly. “Run, or die here with me. Your choice.”
The lead soldier growled with anger and frustration and then ran, closely followed by his partner. Ashley unfolded her arms and slipped them casually into the pockets of her flight suit, watching with interest to see which of the two soldiers was the better sprinter. As it turned out, they both passed through the narrowing bulkhead door together in the last few seconds, in what would have been a close photo finish.
‘DECOMPRESSION WARNING
LOCK-DOWN IN FIVE SECONDS
EXIT IMMEDIATELY’
Ashley felt the force of the giant door thudding shut resonate through the deck plating, and then collected the hacked ident and comms package from beside the console and stepped onto the ladder of the training fighter.
‘DECOMPRESSION WARNING
LOCK-DOWN COMPLETE
SIMULATION COMPLETE
RESET IN TEN MINUTES’
Ashley dropped into the cockpit and glanced back towards the bulkhead door, smiling as the two soldiers banged against the porthole window in the center, as if their feeble thumps could break through the ten-centimeter thick toughened glass, which was strong enough to withstand them both emptying their rifle clips into it.
“I knew they’d fall for it,” she commented to herself, pulling on the helmet and firing up the engines, bypassing all of the pre-flight checks. Now is not the time to be cautious she thought, as the canopy closed and the fighter’s power core whirred into life. Seconds later the thrusters kicked in, lifting the craft off the deck into a static hover. Ashley lifted the comms package off her lap, slid it into the auxiliary systems port, and flipped the switch. Then she inserted the hacked ident into the main console and bypassed the training program, unlocking all of the ships systems, including its weapons.
The commlink in her helmet clicked on. “Fighter Trainer U2, this is primary fighter control. You are not authorized for departure. Power down immediately.”
