by J. N. Chaney
“Yes, sir,” said the Cognitive.
“Bolin, you and your guys cover Dressler,” I added. “Doc, you’re out of time. Get everything out of that you can but wrap it up quick. We’ve got to go.”
“Aye, Captain,” Bolin said, his gun at the ready as he surveyed the open stretch of the walls that led into the hallway. Gustin, Nash, Mackie, and Hugh jogged toward the doctor, the metal of their guns brushing against their suits as they took their stances around the terminal. Dressler didn’t acknowledge me, lost as she was in her work.
“Doc,” I prompted, not in the mood to play nice.
“Yes, fine,” she muttered. Dressler waved me away with a few flicks of her wrist as she dove deeper into her discoveries, her fingers like lightning across the pad as she accessed more and more of the Celestials’ sensitive data.
I frowned at her dismissive tone, not entirely convinced she’d truly heard me, but I didn’t have the time or energy to correct her manners.
Abigail and I ran to Freddie, ducking through the opening where I’d seen him disappear earlier. He and Petra stood a short distance off, beside the first door we had seen in the entire stretch we’d explored thus far. A circular terminal identical to the one Dressler was currently studying was mounted to the wall beside it.
“I wonder if we can get in,” Freddie said, reaching for the pad in the middle of the terminal’s circle.
“Wait,” I snapped, the hair on my neck standing on end as every warning bell in my body went off at once.
But it was too late.
His fingertip grazed the surface of the pad, barely touching it as he tried to pull back in time. His touch made the pad glow purple, and a ripple of light buzzed through the surface of the terminal. Instantly, the door in front of us slid open, and the overhead lights came online. I lifted my gun, half-expecting a Celestial to be brushing his teeth on the other side, but the room was empty. Nothing of note stood out to us as we scanned the open space, save for a similar door cut into the far wall, another identical terminal sitting next to it.
We paused, all of us ready to fire at a moment’s notice. Silence settled on the air, eating away at me as I expected the world to erupt into chaos at any second.
After a moment, Abigail smacked Freddie on the shoulder. “Honestly, Frederick. You should pay more attention to what you’re—”
An ear-splitting noise—possibly an alarm—cut through the space around us. We all grimaced as it blared, shrill and piercing.
“Hughes,” Lucia barked into the shared link. “What the hell did you do?”
“It wasn’t me,” I snapped back, glaring at Freddie.
“Sorry,” he said with a deeply apologetic look on his face. “I’m really, really—”
“Siggy, tell everyone to get back to the ships!” I ordered, interrupting the kid’s excuse. We didn’t have time to sit there apologizing to each other. “Go, go, go!” I ushered my crew ahead of me, making sure everyone was out of this space before running toward Dressler. Bolin and his team still stood at her side with their rifles trained on the hallway, tense and ready to run.
“What’s going on?” asked Bolin, his eyebrows pinched with concern.
“No time. Move!” I shouted, pointing after the rest of the team as Abigail led them into the hallway. “Dressler, cut the cord and let’s go!”
“Fine,” she muttered, frowning as she quickly unhooked the cables from the terminal. “I didn’t get nearly as much as I wanted, Captain.”
“It’ll have to do. Now move!” I raced after her, monitoring the back of the line to make sure nothing followed us as we raced back toward the hangar. “Siggy, see if you can cut through whatever Rackham is using to block the signal. If we have to evacuate, I’m not waiting around for them to drag a body through the halls!”
“At once, sir,” said the Cognitive. “What should I tell him if—”
“Hughes!” Rackham shouted through the line, the connection crackling as he talked over Sigmond.
“What the hell are you doing?” I snapped at him. “Blocking signals, and when—”
“I know,” he admitted, breathing heavily. The thunder of gunfire cut through the connection. “Hughes, I need backup. I’ve finally disabled the jammer Barkley had on him, but we’re—” He groaned in pain as more gunfire erupted around him. His gun went off, the loud pops of his rifle nearly splitting my eardrum. “Hughes, please—”
“Oh dear,” said Sigmond as the line cut out. “It appears I’ve lost the connection to Lieutenant Rackham. I shall try to repair it, but I’m not optimistic that I can.”
“It’ll have to do, Siggy,” I said. “Just try to get him back.”
As we raced through the halls, I had a decision to make—either I left Rackham to die, or I risked none of us getting off this planet at all. I eyed Dressler’s pack, knowing full well that what we’d found thus far might’ve been the key to cracking the Celestials’ weaknesses, and I had to ensure it made it back to Earth.
Whatever decision I made, I had to choose quickly. I briefly wondered what the Union man would’ve done in my shoes, but that didn’t matter in the end. I’d never made choices with the Union’s morals at heart, and that alone had saved my skin countless times before.
Now, I had to decide—with the safety of Earth, Lex, and all my people on the line, was Rackham truly a part of my crew? Or was I going to leave these tourists to die?
15
With Abigail at the front, leading my team as we raced back toward the hangar, I remained at the back as I debated what to do about Rackham. The man could already be dead, for all I knew, and I didn’t have time to waste in deciding what to do. Lucia’s warning repeated in the back of my mind, and I had a pretty clear idea of what she would do in my shoes. But I didn’t get this far by leaving men behind, especially not men who needed help.
“Siggy, get me Rackham’s last known location,” I ordered.
“At once, sir,” said the Cognitive.
At the front of the pack, Abigail turned her head abruptly toward me, overhearing the command. “Jace, are you really going to—”
“Yes, and you’re going to lead everyone back to the ships,” I ordered, knowing full well she was going to ignore me. But hey, a man could dream.
“Nonsense,” she said curtly, slowing her pace as she shifted her attention toward Petra. “You have the maps fully loaded on your suit, don’t you?”
“Yes,” confirmed Petra with a quick nod.
“Good,” said Abigail. “You lead Dressler and the others back to the ships. Make sure to get her information piped through to Titan as soon as possible so that we have a backup copy.”
“Hey, now,” I snapped. “I’m the Captain here, godsdammit!”
“Petra, go!” Abigail ordered, gesturing for the woman to continue on regardless of my objections.
“Captain…” Bolin said cautiously, his attention shifting between me and Abigail.
“Just go,” I said with a wave of my hand, ushering them onward and admitting defeat at the hands of the former nun. “All of you, get to the ships.”
Petra nodded and raced ahead as Abigail fell behind, joining me. To my surprise, Freddie followed suit, and the three of us kept pace at the back of the pack while we waited for Sigmond’s direction.
“Frederick, go,” Abigail ordered, gesturing up at the group quickly leaving us in the dust.
“No way,” he said with a snap of his head. “I got us into this mess, and I’m going to do my part to get us out of it.”
Abigail glared at him. “But you don’t—”
“He stays,” I interjected, giving him a brief pat on his shoulder as we ran. The kid had always managed to impress me, one way or another, even after he screwed up.
“Thanks, Captain.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” I said. “We’re running into a warzone, after all.”
“Right,” said Freddie, his voice a little shaky at the reminder.
“Signal recovered, Captain,
” said Sigmond. “Turn left at the next fork in the path.”
“Any vitals?” I asked, needing to know if this was worth the detour.
“Yes, sir,” said the Cognitive. “Things do not bode well for Rackham’s crew, and had he not jammed our signal, I could have perhaps assisted him.”
“Yeah, well, scold him later,” I said. “Give me an update, Siggy.”
“Lieutenant Rackham is still alive, though his elevated heart rate implies immense stress,” said the Cognitive. “I can no longer detect a pulse on one of his men, though I do have some indications that the remaining three Union soldiers may still be alive.”
“It’s a start,” I said, racing through the tunnels as fast as my legs would carry me. “Any idea what happened to them?”
“No, sir. They seem to have been attacked by something, but they haven’t indicated what it was.”
“A Celestial?” asked Freddie, swallowing.
“It’s quite possible, Mr. Tabernacle,” agreed Sigmond.
“Should we call for backup?” asked Abigail. She turned to me, briefly studying my face as we ran.
I toyed with the idea, and it wasn’t a new one. After taking down the Celestial on Earth, I knew it would be useful to have more firepower than just the three of us. Lucia’s team would be invaluable right now, but I had to make the call against it. “No, Abby. It’s just us. I need Lucia guarding those shuttles, and if there really are Celestials on this planet, they’re going to need Leif’s help. Protecting Dressler and whatever intel she scraped off this metal rock are more important than this detour.”
“You have a point,” puffed Abigail, her arms pumping at her sides as she kept pace with me.
“Turn right in twenty meters,” said Sigmond, still guiding us to Rackham.
“Siggy, are Leif and his soldiers headed back?” I asked.
“Yes, sir. Thus far, they have yet to encounter anything of note, but they’re quite far in their tunnel.”
“Tell them to hustle,” I commanded. “They need to get back to the ships as quick as possible.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Patch me through to Lucia,” I ordered.
“Right away, sir.”
“Where are you?” Lucia snapped into the comm. “Petra just brought the team, but you aren’t here!”
“I’m well aware of where I ain’t!” I snapped back. “Get that cargo shuttle out of here and back to the Prospect. Wait for Leif and his people but hound them like hell to hurry. I want you to get everyone you can on that boat and get out. Leave a shuttle for the rest of us and anyone who feels generous enough to guard it until we can get there.”
“You’re the Captain, Hughes,” the old woman said. “We’re not leaving you.”
“I ain’t about to argue!” I replied. “It doesn’t matter if we get this info off this rock because Dressler is about the only one who can understand this nonsense. If she’s not back on Earth to rifle through it all, none of this was worth doing,” I reminded her. “Lucia, that’s a direct order. You get that cargo and the Doc off this planet. You know what’s at stake.”
“Siggy, cut the transmission.”
“Yes, sir,” said the Cognitive. “Ms. Lucia is quite displeased with that decision.”
“Yeah, I bet you’re learning some spicy new words from her,” I muttered, not wanting to deal with this. I had to focus on what lay ahead, and none of it was going to be pretty.
We followed Sigmond’s directions, racing through the corridors as the shrill alarm continued to blare around us. I was getting really sick of that noise, and I wished I could shoot whatever was powering it to turn the damned thing off.
“How close are we, Siggy?” I asked after a while. “Tell me we’re close!”
“Yes, Captain,” said the Cognitive. “Lieutenant Rackham’s locator device pinpoints him roughly ten meters away, around the next corner.”
I lifted my fist, giving the silent order for the other two to slow down. They complied, and together we inched along the corridor, ears sharp and guns raised as we prepared to find a gory aftermath and probably a couple of corpses.
All I could hear was the labored sound of a man breathing what could’ve been his final breaths. He groaned in agony. The metal of a gun tapped against the hard floor, but there was no gunfire. No screams. The silence set me even more on edge as I cautiously turned the corner, finger on my trigger and ready to fire.
Two bodies lay on the ground, and the first I instantly recognized as one of Rackham’s guys. His torso sat at an unnatural angle, bent backward in the middle like a snapped twig. Blood dripped from his mouth, oozing out of the shattered glass of his visor and into a smoking puddle—a little fluid sitting on a thick layer of dried residue. His leg had been thrown across the hall, a trail of blood splattered along the walls and floor to mark its trajectory.
A bit farther away, the other body fidgeted, still alive. I saw his head arch backward as the groan of a man in pain filtered through the comm in my ear.
“Rackham, is that you?” I asked, nearing the downed soldier.
“Thank the gods,” Rackham muttered, letting out a sigh of relief. “By my lucky stars.”
“Might be a little early to go thanking anyone just yet, officer,” I retorted, kneeling beside him as Freddie and Abigail kept a lookout. “But I’ve been told I am quite godlike.”
“Literally no one has ever told you that, Renegade,” said Abigail as she kneeled next to me.
I smirked at her. “Freddie, keep watch.”
“Yes, Captain,” he said.
Abigail remained kneeling at my side, but she trained her gaze down the far end of the hall, keeping watch at Freddie’s back with her rifle at the ready.
Rackham held his side, and blood pooled in his palm from a deep wound in his abdomen. As far as I could tell, the suit had attempted an emergency seal that was only functioning at half capacity, at best. From the hissing I could hear as I leaned closer, it seemed as though he was quickly leaking oxygen.
“Siggy, give me the status on our friend here,” I ordered.
“We’re friends, huh?” Rackham asked with a lopsided smile, though he sucked in a pained breath a second later.
I grinned. “That was what the sciencey folk among us call sarcasm, lieutenant. But, hey, don’t let anyone kill your dreams, sport.”
“Sir, his suit sustained moderate damage,” interjected Sigmond. “He’s leaking oxygen at an alarming rate, and he’s lucky you arrived when you did. A quick medic seal from the emergency kit should suffice as a protective barrier until he can return to the Nebula Prospect.”
I gently nudged Abigail in the side to get her attention. “Abby, you still have the medic kit?”
“I do.” She unhooked a small bag from her belt and rifled through its contents. “How much, Siggy?”
“Rackham needs the everything available in the kit, I’m afraid,” answered the Cognitive. “We will have to restock the kit later.”
“You hear that?” I asked him. “You’re bleeding my supplies, lieutenant.”
“I’m sure the Vice Admiral will repay you in full,” Rackham said with a strained groan.
“Make sure he throws in something shiny,” I said with a grin. “For all the trouble.”
As Abigail got to work tending the hole in Rackham’s suit, I leaned toward his helmet, checking for additional cracks or holes. He seemed in the clear, though I had to confess I was also looking for any more of that blue goop. Who the hell knew what that even was, or if the Celestials had figured out how to weaponize it yet—I didn’t need a man with Rackham’s skill or smarts going insane on my watch, or against my crew.
“We have to get out of here, Hughes,” Rackham said, his tone surprisingly panicked. “We have to evacuate.”
“We are,” I said as the alarm continued to blare overhead. “We have to get you moving. Any of the other Union soldiers make it?”
“Three ran off down there,” he said, nodding toward the other en
d of the hallway. “They broke the line after that—that thing attacked Grant.” Rackham nodded to the corpse down the hall. “When they saw what it could do, they all panicked.”
“What thing?” I asked, confused. “The Celestial?”
“That wasn’t anything like the pictures in your reports, Hughes,” Rackham said, his eyes wide with what could almost be considered fear on a lesser man. “It was big and white, but I couldn’t get a solid look at it. It moved like a ghost, too fast to even see.”
“All right, take it easy,” I said, taking a moment. I recalled Dressler and Alphonse mentioning the possibility that there might be other Celestials that were different from the one we’d taken down on Earth. That one had been designed perfectly to be a scout, capable of hiding in plain sight and built to move quickly. If the others on this planet were somehow different, it meant dealing with a new enemy of unknown capabilities, and I wasn’t a fan of going into anything blind.
“There,” said Abigail with a contented nod. “That’s everything we have, lieutenant. Let’s get you back.”
Unnerved at the thought of something even more dangerous out there than I had expected, I lifted my gun and helped Rackham to his feet.
He gripped my shoulder, trying to balance despite the gaping hole in his side. Carefully, I looped his arm around Freddie’s shoulders. “Take him back to the ships,” I said, gesturing the way we’d come. “Siggy, keep an eye on them and make sure they get back. Let me know when they’re safely aboard the shuttle.”
“Yes, sir,” said the Cognitive. “Lieutenant Rackham, do you have any ammunition remaining?”
He shook his head. “I emptied every bullet I had into that thing, and it didn’t even flinch.”
I gritted my teeth, an unnerving dread rippling through me at the idea. “It doesn’t matter,” I said, clearing my throat to distract myself from Rackham’s ominous comment. “We have enough, don’t we, Abby?”
“I suppose so,” said Abigail, sounding a bit unsure as she warily studied the lieutenant.
