It Ain't Over

by Robert M Kerns

  Cole closed the comms call, and the speakers chirped again.

  Chapter Forty-One

  In Transit to Oriolis VI

  Oriolis System

  6 September 2999

  Cole, Sasha, Mazzi, Yeleth, Sev, and Emily gathered around the table in the bridge’s briefing room. The focus of their attention was the viewscreen on the wall, as it displayed a recording made a few minutes before on the hangar deck.

  As survivors from the cruiser piloted their escape pods into Haven’s hangar deck, a cluster of enlisted spacers almost swarmed Lieutenant Karnacky, once they identified him as the senior officer.

  “So, what’s the plan, Ell-Tee?” one spacer asked. He was so excited he almost hopped up and down.

  Karnacky frowned. “What plan, Spacer?”

  “You know…the plan where we storm the ship and take it for the Commonwealth.”

  The lieutenant stared at the spacer, goggle-eyed. “What? Are you out of your mind?”

  “Ell-Tee, have you seen those forcefields at either end of the deck? I’ve never seen anything like that on any of our ships. Who knows what kind of other tech this ship has? The Commonwealth needs this ship!”

  “Spacer, the Commonwealth is dying, if it’s not already dead.” Karnacky sighed. “Those forcefields you’re so enthused about are the only reason we have air right now. Did you happen to think about that when you were coming up with your grand plan to take this ship? We are at the mercy of the crew of this ship. One wrong move—maybe even the wrong word—and we’re vented to space…all of us. Are you prepared to risk everyone’s lives on some foolhardy plan to take the ship?”

  The spacer was silent for a few moments before his face lit up again. “But they have to feed us sometime, right, Ell-Tee? We could wait by the hatch and overpower the people that bring the food. Then, we’re in the ship!”

  Karnacky frowned, scrunching his eyes shut as he rubbed his grimy forehead. “Spacer, first of all, they don’t have to feed us. The life pods carry sufficient rations for a full complement of survivors to eat for sixty days, and we have more life pods than survivors. The pods’ emergency rations won’t be tasty, but we can live on them. Second…and far more disturbing…is that you seem to ignore the multitude of sensor nodes all over the bulkheads. They’re probably watching and listening to this conversation right now. Do you honestly think they wouldn’t check the sensor feeds and notice the hundred-odd people crowding around the interior of the hatch?”

  “But…but…it always works in the holo-movies!”

  Lieutenant Karnacky’s eyes widened just a moment before his expression settled into one of muted rage.

  “What part of ‘we live at their mercy’ don’t you understand? Get this imbecile out of my sight before I drag him to the aft forcefield and throw him out to dance with the stars!” He spun to the rest of the 215 souls that were all that remained of a ship’s company numbering almost 500 and shouted at the top of his lungs. “And the next one of you to come up with some moronic way for us all to die had better keep quiet!”

  Karnacky stomped over and flopped on the deck, leaning back against a pod, and the viewer deactivated.

  “Well…that was instructive,” Emily said. “How are we going to reach the dropships when we need to go down to Oriolis VI to retrieve Harlon, with them all over your flight deck?”

  “I’ll order them to get back into their pods, and the ones who don’t comply get vented to space before we go trooping across the deck to the dropships.”

  “We?” Emily gave him the eye. “You’re going, too?”

  “Yeah…why not?”

  “But…” Emily glanced at the others around the table. “But you’re the captain. You’re commanding the entire operation! Don’t you think—maybe—you should provide overwatch from Haven?”

  “Nah.” Cole made a dismissive wave with his left hand. “I have a first officer.”

  Oriolis VI

  Oriolis System

  7 September 2999

  Haven slid into orbit over Oriolis VI, and Cole leaned back against his seat as he considered what the sensors showed him. Military troop shuttles moved between the planet and the planet’s orbital station. Most planets’ orbital stations served as a combination entrepot, shipping hub, and shopping mall; any spacers who were on short liberties enjoyed whatever shops or hotels the station offered, rather than go down to the planet below.

  It did not look like that was still the case with Oriolis VI’s orbital station. None of the ships Cole could identify appeared to be merchants or other independent ships, and military shuttles zipped hither and yon throughout the station’s security zone. Matter of fact, the level of merchant traffic or independent shipping seemed to be way down for a system so close to a border.

  “Is anyone challenging us yet?” Sasha asked.

  Cole shrugged. “Not yet. We may be so deep in the system that people just assume we’ve been cleared to be here. Srexx?”

  “Yes, Cole?”

  “Mind reaching out to your lesser-evolved cousins in the area, buddy? We need to find Harlon Hanson and as many members of his unit as possible, sooner rather than later.”

  Several minutes passed before Srexx broached the silence on the bridge.

  “Cole…”

  “Yeah, Srexx?”

  “I have located Harlon Hanson and—I believe—all that remains of his unit. They are being held in a detention facility in the planetary capital, and I have found numerous references to the foreign insurgents and the traitors who hired them being scheduled for public execution. Cross-referencing local time servers to ours has led to concluding those executions will occur next week.”

  Cole shrugged. “Well, at least we’re early…”

  “Srexx,” Sasha said, “can you put the detention facility on the viewscreen?”

  The viewscreen activated and displayed an overhead view of a facility blocked off by high walls. Brackets highlighted a section of the facility off by itself and away from the bulk of the buildings.

  “The facility’s records indicate Harlon and his people are being held here.” Srexx’s tone was matter of fact. “My examination of the detention facility’s files indicates that section to be where the system’s military governor houses political prisoners.”

  “Political prisoners, Srexx? You mean the people in that section of the facility aren’t actual criminals?”

  “My evaluation is that the individuals sharing incarceration with Harlon’s Howlers are criminals only in the mind of the current regime. None of the individuals I have identified possess a criminal record beyond the suspicious charges that landed them here.”

  “I see. What’s the head-count for that whole section, beyond and including Harlon and his people?”

  “630.”

  “Wow.”

  While final preparations were underway, only one item remained…the cruiser’s survivors. Cole had Srexx call Lieutenant Karnacky to the hatch that led off the hangar deck and took him up to the traffic control room where all his people could see them.

  “Captain, thank you for rescuing my people. I don’t…well, we would’ve been dead by now if you hadn’t.”

  “You’re welcome, Lieutenant. We came to Oriolis to retrieve people who were trapped here when all this unpleasantness began. We are close to conducting the operation that will allow us to do so, and we need to decide what happens to all of you.”

  Karnacky’s eyes widened, and he paled. “C-Captain, sir…we’ve done everything you’ve asked of us, and I’ve tried to keep a lid on the rowdier ones. Does anything need to happen to us?”

  Cole sighed. “Lieutenant, we’ll be leaving the system in the next few hours. I would’ve thought you’d want to stay here.”

  “Uhm, well…not really, sir. I don’t know about all the others, but I know the higher commands have made examples of crews they deem ‘failing.’ There’s not really any bigger way to fail than losing your ship. I don’t know if the others have thought thi
ngs through yet, but we’re all dead. It just hasn’t happened yet.”

  Cole growled. “I have specific opinions of anyone who’d perpetrate those kinds of atrocities, but I can’t save everyone.” Cole closed his eyes and sighed. “Okay. Fine. Get back down there and find out who wants to stay in Oriolis and who wants to come with us. Do not say anything about why we’re here or that we’re planning to leave soon. Everyone who’s staying in Oriolis needs to pile into an escape pod and get the hell off my hangar deck. We’ll be taking one of the dropships shortly.”

  In the end, fifty-three people climbed into escape pods to leave, including the notable who argued for trying to take the ship. Well, truth be told…it was unclear whether he chose to go. Karnacky dragged him to a pod and pushed him inside.

  A short time later, a group of people entered the hangar deck through the starboard hatch. There were one-hundred-six, including Cole and Emily. Cole and Emily would pilot, with the others serving as gunners and personnel to secure the section of the detention facility where they were landing. Everyone was armed to a greater or lesser degree, and Cole carried a laser rifle, a laser pistol, and the plasma caster, as he whine-thumped his way across the deck and into the dropship.

  Awed whispers of “the Lone Marine” spread through the remaining spacers like a wave.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Orbit above Oriolis VI

  Oriolis System

  7 September 2999

  The dropship departed Haven and began its descent.

  “Emily, how familiar are you with the specs for these dropships?”

  “I’ve sold over a hundred; I’m familiar with their specs.”

  “What’s their rated maximum speed for atmospheric entry?”

  Emily turned an alarmed look Cole’s way as Cole accessed the music library Srexx had reconstituted in his new implant, sending the audio to the dropship’s internal speakers. The music in Cole’s implant was just a smattering of the vast collection he inherited from his grandfather, but Cole didn’t share all of his grandfather’s eclectic tastes. Within minutes, the dropship became a fireball in the sky above the capital to the accompaniment of Cage The Elephant’s “Ain’t No Rest for the Wicked.”

  Numerous anti-aircraft emplacements fired on the dropship as it made its fiery descent. Between the efforts of the dropship’s gunners and Haven’s overwatch, none of the weapons launched at the dropship survived. The anti-aircraft emplacements didn’t last much longer than the weapons they fired.

  The ground was getting closer in the forward view very quickly, and Cole could see Emily getting antsy in the co-pilot’s seat. He smiled using the left corner of his mouth and keyed the PA system.

  “Gunners, this is your pilot-captain speaking. We’ll be descending too quickly for the prison’s defenses or defenders to get a bead on us before we land. That being said, I expect we’ll draw fire almost the moment we touch down. Prepare for a last-minute 180-degree spin just before the landing struts touch the ground. Once we’re settled, take out every guard tower and defense post you can. Oh…and strap in if you haven’t already.”

  When the dropship reached a distance of fifty meters from landing, Cole extended the landing struts. When that range was down to thirty meters, Cole cut all lift power and activated the programmed spin using the attitude thrusters. The result was the dropship dropping like a rock while executing a spin at such speed all the dropship’s occupants would’ve been thrown out of their seats, had they not been strapped to them.

  Emily clutched her console in a white-knuckled grip, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. She turned her head to look at Cole as he snapped the releases on his safety straps and jumped out of his seat. Her eyes were wide, and her expression held a mixture of awe and fear, the dominant emotion seeming to shift between the two from moment to moment.

  “You. Are. Bat-shit. Insane!”

  The dropship’s weapons kicked off just as she spoke, adding an ambiance to her statement Emily couldn’t have timed better if she’d planned it.

  Cole smiled and said, “Co-pilot’s craft,” before nipping back to don the heavy armor. Once inside, he picked up the plasma caster and whine-thumped his way to the boarding ramp. Before he could call the cockpit to lower the ramp, the ramp dropped, and Cole stepped out into the balmy air of late afternoon on Oriolis VI.

  Scanning the area, Cole saw one guard tower outside the firing arcs of the dropship’s weapons. His armor’s computer indicated it was within the range of his plasma caster, so Cole lifted the weapon, placed the reticle in his armor’s HUD overtop the tower, and depressed the firing stud.

  Cole had never fired a plasma caster in his life. In fact, Cole had never even seen a plasma caster until he laid his eyes on it back in Tristan’s Gate. The rapid discharge of three plasma charges caught him by surprise, and he jerked his thumb away from the firing stud, watching in rapt fascination as three spheroids of blue-white actinic fire sailed for the guard tower he’d chosen.

  The first plasma charge saw to the guard tower. It struck the transparent protective material that shielded the tower’s occupants from the inmates below, and the containment field around the plasma vanished as it is supposed to do. The distant cousin to the heart of the Oriolis star ate through the transparent protective material just in time for the plasma charge’s rapid expansion to cause the guard tower to explode while flash-cooking everything it came in contact with.

  The remaining two plasma charges sailed through the expanding fireball that used to be a guard tower and would’ve continued on for an indeterminate time…except for the rotorcraft bearing markings of the Oriolis VI ground forces that came around the side of a distant portion of the prison facility. The rotorcraft flew right into the path of the plasma charges, their proximity plus surprise preventing any action other than stopping the plasma charges the hard way. The plasma charges struck the rotorcraft with the sudden timing of the old one-two punch in boxing, and the fiery remains of the rotorcraft fell to the ground out of Cole’s sight.

  Cole stared at the two columns of black smoke rising in the distance with wide eyes. His situational awareness kicked back in moments later, and he activated his comms system.

  “Haven, do you copy?”

  “Haven copies,” came Sasha’s voice.

  “Have you secured the airspace around the prison?”

  “No anti-aircraft emplacements have lit off for a while now.”

  “Dispatch the other dropships, then. Out.”

  Cole accessed the comms function of his implant and brought up the personnel on the dropship, opening a team channel and saying, “All right, people! For anyone who might have been asleep or otherwise not listening to the briefing, the rule of engagement is do not fire first, but once someone starts the fight, you’d better finish it. Now, move out and secure this zone. I’ll free the prisoners.”

  Cole whine-thumped his way over to the closest structure and kicked open the door, stepping inside. Two dozen people atop dirty mattresses lying flat on the floor directed terrified expressions his way. Cole scanned the faces he could see and identified Harlon Hanson after the sixth.

  He keyed his external speakers and activated the voice Srexx had made for him.

  “Harlon Hanson, front and center.”

  Harlon stood and approached Cole, his gait steady and measured. When he stood before the heavy armor, he said, “What you’re doing is a war crime, you know.”

  “Rescuing people unjustly incarcerated is a war crime? Huh…they never told me.”

  Harlon blinked. “Wait…what? You’re not going to shoot us?”

  “I’d rather not. That defeats the whole purpose of the rescue, but if you’re dead set on being shot, I’ll see what I can do.” Cole heard titters of amusement from the others as the tension left the room at speed. “I have a dropship outside, plus two other dropships on the way. I was informed this section of the prison holds only political prisoners, so everyone gets to leave who wants to go. I want you to s
elect people from this group to go with us to each building in this section and mobilize everyone to gather in the courtyard.”

  Soon, people were gathering in the courtyard just as the other two craft were touching down…much more softly than Cole’s landing. The former prisoners streamed onto the two newest dropships. Once those dropships reached standing-room-only, they lifted off.

  Harlon came around the corner of his former barracks, leading the last group of prisoners at Cole’s side, and stopped cold at the sight before him. The dropship Cole piloted had made a concave depression in the concrete courtyard with a spider-web of cracks extending out from where the landing struts were embedded fifteen centimeters into the concrete.

  The other people continued on as Harlon turned to Cole. “Damn, son…just because they’re called dropships doesn’t mean you actually drop them. How high were you when the pilot cut the lift?”

  Cole would have scratched his chin if it hadn’t been inside his heavy armor. “I think the altimeter read somewhere between twenty-five and thirty meters when I flipped the switch.”

  “Wait…you flew that dropship?”

  “I did, and I’ll be flying it back.”

  Harlon lifted his eyes to the other dropships rising into the atmosphere. He shook his head and sighed. “Shit, too late…now, I have to ride back with the psycho.”

  Cole was just sliding into the seat at his console when Sasha called, after making sure all personnel were aboard and returning the heavy armor to its charging alcove.

  “Haven to Dropship One. Do you copy?”

  “Dropship One copies.”

  “There is a flight of fast-moving aircraft headed your way. They appear to be atmospheric interceptors. Armament and maneuverability unknown at present.”

  “How does their flight profile compare to ours?”