Abyss Of Savagery

by Toby Neighbors

  “Lower your weapons and let the operators pass,” Dean said.

  “We have orders,” said another of the guards.

  “I’m changing your orders,” Dean responded. “You tell your superiors that Major Dean Blaze OWFR ordered you to hand over your weapons and stand aside.”

  “We’ll be in trouble,” said the guard, who was looking at Dean with pure hatred.

  “More trouble than you’re in now?” Esma offered in a placating tone.

  “No sense in dying today, Private,” Dean said.

  The man looked for a moment like he might take a shot. Dean was calculating his odds of getting to the obstinate guard without getting injured and didn’t like his chances, when the man lowered his gun.

  “This is total bullshit,” he grumbled.

  Ortega’s platoon took the rest of the pistols, and Dean led the operators back toward the Hannibal. The Vipers brought up the rear as the group moved through the long corridors.

  “That was too close,” Esma said quietly from beside Dean. “You can’t take chances like that.”

  “I had to do something,” Dean replied.

  “Why not bring the platoon in sooner?”

  “And start a shootout in the middle of a space station?”

  “You don’t think they would have backed down?”

  “I don’t know,” Dean said. “But I had to do something. Time is running out, and we have a mission to complete.”

  “What’s going on? Why did those guards try to stop us from going to the Hannibal?”

  “Revolution, I suppose,” Dean said, before telling Esma about Colonel Davis’s assassination. “If we don’t get to the Hannibal and return to the Kroll ships, we won’t just be sidelined.”

  “Do you really think people see us as the enemy?” she asked.

  “Unfortunately, yes…I know that everyone is scared, and there are people who would use that fear to get their way. Strong leadership is what’s needed in a crisis, and I think there are some officers pushing for a new EsDef—even willing to kill for it. I’m the poster boy for the old way; I can’t see them keeping me around. But that doesn’t mean you and your operators can’t step back, if that’s what you want.”

  For a moment, Dean felt a stab of terror. What if Esma didn’t want to go against whoever was leading the coup? What if she thought Dean should call off his mission? He didn’t know how he would deal with his feelings if she didn’t want to help him complete the most important assignment of his career.

  “We can’t back down now,” Esma said, sending a wave of relief washing over Dean. “We have to hit the Kroll while we have this opportunity. If we wait, there’s a good chance they’ll know we have their ships and we’ll lose the element of surprise.”

  “I’m happy to hear you say that,” Dean said.

  They turned a corner and he was about to tell Esma that he was glad they were going on the mission together. He knew it was the most dangerous assignment he’d ever been given, but he believed in the mission. And after seeing Colonel Davis gunned down, he was more determined than ever to carry out the Off World Force Recon commander’s last order. But before he could say anything, he was brought to a halt by a group of armed men and women. There were nearly twenty people, all carrying firearms, from sidearms like the pistols he had taken from the guards who tried to hinder Esma’s group of operators to utility rifles to police-issue stun blasters.

  The shock of the armed mob halted Dean in his tracks. He recognized several people in the middle of the group; Admirals Matsumoto and Aviv from his last mission as well as Admiral Masterson and his first officer Li Ming from the Apache were all huddled together. They didn’t have weapons and didn’t look happy to be there. In front them, like a nightmare come to life, Rear Admiral Chancy was walking with Admiral Hamilton. Dean hadn’t expected to see either of his old foes again, but there they were, grinning at him with wicked glee—and now there was no question who was behind the coup to overthrow the EsDef brass.

  Chapter 9

  “Blaze,” Admiral Hamilton said, with a malicious gleam in her eyes.

  “They’ve gone and made him a Major,” Rear Admiral Chancy said with a sneer. “We’ve taken control just in time.”

  “What’s going on here?” Dean asked, feigning ignorance to buy some time as he slowly began to back up.

  “What’s going on is that things have finally been made right,” Hamilton said. “The warmongers are out.”

  “That’s interesting coming from someone surrounded by armed guards.”

  “Force is all some people know,” Chancy said. “Your type, for example.”

  “My type?”

  “Yes, trigger-happy imbeciles,” Hamilton said. “You don’t think they choose Recon officers for their intelligence, do you? You’re cannon fodder, Major, no matter what rank you hide behind.”

  Dean was thankful that the group following him was alert for signs of danger. They were all slowly backing around the corner. Esma had already slipped away, and with any luck Dean expected her to send Captain Ortega’s platoon to help him. All he needed was to keep the mob busy for a few more moments and find a way to get the innocent out of the line of fire.

  “So you’ve taken control of EsDef and assassinated Colonel Davis. Did you kill anyone else in your little coup?”

  “The entire service stands behind our actions,” Chancy said. “As well as the governments on Earth.”

  “Somehow I doubt that,” Dean said.

  “Not everyone approves,” Matsumoto declared.

  “We are not seeking approval, Admiral,” Chancy snarled. “We have the best interests of the service in mind. War with the Kroll is insanity. We will build our forces here and ensure a prosperous future for the human race.”

  “Spoken like a true despot,” Dean said.

  “How dare you speak to a rear admiral that way,” Hamilton said. “You will pay for your insolence, Blaze. Punishment for your cavalier actions and failure to follow orders is long overdue.”

  “New leadership is rising in the service, Blaze,” Chancy said. “And anyone who stands in the way of progress will face a court martial. You should have gone quietly when you had the chance, but I have to admit, getting my hands on you now will be very satisfying indeed.”

  “Well,” Dean said with a smile, “if I’m going down, I might as well make the most of it. Rear Admiral Chancy, you’re a traitor and a coward. Nothing would make me happier than for you to get close enough to lay a hand on me. And Hamilton, you deserve what’s coming.”

  “All that is coming is our victory and a new, more civilized EsDef,” she said.

  “If only that were true,” Dean said. “You’ve not faced the Kroll, so maybe there’s room for your ignorance, but the rear admiral was found in the nest of the ship that captured thousands of humans on Cymru. Has he told you how he wept and cried when we rescued him? Or how he aided the Kroll in torturing Recon Specialists?”

  “You lie, sir!” Chancy shouted.

  “No one will believe your propaganda,” Hamilton hissed.

  “They’ll believe it when the Kroll arrive and start herding humans like cattle,” Dean said. “Your ships won’t stop them. They’re just prizes to be won by the Kroll, you have to see that.”

  “No race would dare attack Earth with the entire fleet in system,” she continued. “The colonies will have to see to their own defense. They made a choice leaving Earth and the protection of EsDef.”

  “Our mandate is to protect humanity throughout the galaxy,” Dean said. “Not just on Earth.”

  “Don’t argue with him,” Chancy said. “He’s just stalling because he knows we’ve won.”

  “What I know is that you’ve made a tactical error—you just haven’t realized it yet.”

  “Take him into custody!” Chancy ordered. “Do it now!”

  Dean had been waiting for the order. He had stalled as long as possible. All that was left to do was warn the armed guards.

  �
�Throw down your weapons and you won’t be harmed,” Dean said in a loud voice.

  Several of the armed guards laughed as they moved toward Dean, but the sound of Heavy Armor boots marching on the deck in perfect unison was unmistakable. Dean dropped to one knee, pulling out the pistol he had tucked into a rear pocket of his fatigues as a precaution. With his free hand, he motioned for the naval personnel being herded by Rear Admiral Chancy’s guards to duck down with him. Aviv didn’t hesitate. She pulled Masterson down with her. Matsumoto looked toward Chancy, his desire for a fight evident on his face, but the Rear Admiral was too far away and Matsumoto reluctantly joined Aviv on the floor.

  Captain Ortega’s platoon surged around Dean like the tide surrounding a boulder in the surf. The hallway wasn’t wide enough for the entire Heavy Armor line to march shoulder to shoulder, so they formed a V shape instead. The guards fired their weapons first, but the flechettes bounced harmlessly off the Heavy Armor hydrogen-titanium alloy shields.

  “Return fire,” Captain Rey Ortega said in a calm voice.

  Dean had expected the utility cannons mounted on the shoulders of the Heavy Armor Specialists to roar, but instead they each fired a single round. Dean could no longer see what was happening, but he could hear the shouting and the sound of footsteps as Admiral Hamilton and RA Chancy fled down the corridor.

  “Threat neutralized,” Captain Ortega said as Dean stood up and peered over the shields of the Heavy Armor line. “Should we pursue, Major?”

  “No,” Dean said. “There’s no time. We have to get to the Hannibal. Let’s go—everyone move along.”

  The operators led by Esma came around the corner and followed Captain Ortega’s platoon. Admirals Matsumoto, Aviv, and Masterson were with a few other officers that Dean didn’t recognize, but many of the officers had fled with Hamilton and Chancy.

  “You are going back to the Kroll ships?” Aviv asked Dean.

  “Yes,” he replied. “We have a mission to carry out.”

  “You are planning to attack the Kroll,” Masterson said, “in their own ships?”

  “Using nuclear weapons from Space Base 03,” Dean confirmed. “It was Colonel Davis’s plan, and I intend to carry it out.”

  “Wouldn’t it be better to subdue the mutiny here first?” Masterson’s first officer, Li Jing, said.

  “There’s no time,” Dean replied. “And we don’t know how extensive the leadership of the coup is. I doubt Chancy is behind it; he’s just siding with whoever he thinks has the best chance of winning.”

  “Fighting our own people for control of EsDef is not what I signed on for,” Aviv declared. “The war is out there, not here.”

  “I agree,” Matsumoto said. “I too will help Major Blaze fulfill the mission.”

  “Hell’s bells,” Masterson said. “I guess I’ll come along too. I hate the thought of missing the action.”

  “Good, let’s move out before RA Chancy can find a way to stop us.”

  The group was nearly fifty people strong, with almost thirty operators following Esma. Dean thought most of the console jockeys looked frightened. Most hadn’t been exposed to danger their whole career, but Dean recognized a few that had been on board the Kroll ships. They must have posed a persuasive argument to convince so many of their peers to join them on the dangerous mission into Kroll space.

  They were within sight of the airlock that led to the Hannibal when another platoon of Recon Specialists appeared. They had weapons at the ready and were moving with their Heavy Armor line in a defensive position.

  “Look alive!” Dean shouted.

  He didn’t hear the order that Captain Ortega gave over her platoon channel. It was standard operating procedure to use the platoon-only comlink channel when giving orders in a conflict zone. Still, it was obvious that Ortega had called a formation, as the HA Specialists quickly turned and formed a V shape with their large shields. The other specialists moved into firing positions just behind the shield wall.

  For one tense moment, no one moved. Then Dean’s wrist link vibrated, and one glance was all it took for him to relax. He stood up from where he had ducked behind the Viper Heavy Armor Specialists with Esma, Aviv, Matsumoto, and Masterson.

  “It’s okay, it’s Lieutenant Jefferies’ Rhino platoon,” Dean said.

  Another moment passed, and Dean guessed Ortega had reached out using the comlink in her battle armor to confirm Dean’s assessment. Then she ordered her platoon to stand down. Dean made his way through the Recon Specialists and checked the airlock. It was in working order, and he recognized the first officer of the Hannibal, Captain Harold Hines, through the small window.

  “This is it,” Dean said. “Operators and Navy personnel first, followed by the Vipers, then the Rhino platoon.”

  Esma was the first person through the airlock and Dean stood just outside, watching everything, wishing he had a battle helmet and several MSVs set up to ensure they wouldn’t be ambushed before they could make their getaway. He checked his wrist link and saw that Captain Grant and Lieutenant Seebert already had their platoons on the escort ship. Their luck just needed to hold out a bit longer.

  Once the Vipers were aboard, Dean waved the Rhinos through the airlock. The big Heavy Armor Specialists had to proceed through the narrow space single-file. Dean felt his time slipping away. The pressure to get aboard the Hannibal and move the ship away from the space base was overwhelming, and he finally felt a sense of relief as Lieutenant Ted Jefferies snapped a salute and started to follow his platoon through the airlock. The shots popped against Jefferies’ armor a split second before the reports reached Dean’s ears. A searing pain erupted on Dean’s left shoulder, and he fell back against the wall just outside the airlock. Jefferies was knocked forward off his feet, but he was in the airlock. His specialists grabbed their CO and pulled him to safety.

  Dean heard shouting and more gunfire, but he ignored it all and crawled into the airlock, hitting the release valve to close the door behind him. The airlocks were made of thick steel that kept the dangerous hard vacuum at bay. Dean hoped it would be enough to stop the flechettes still being fired at him from breaching the space station.

  “You’re hit, sir!” Hines shouted from the far side of the airlock.

  Dean ignored the obvious statement as he scrambled toward the far end of the docking arm that connected the E.S.D.F. Hannibal to Space Base 13. He flopped inside, and Captain Hines hit the button to seal the ship.

  “Airlock secure,” he said into the tiny comlink in the collar of his fatigues. “Docking arm detached. We’re clear of the space base, Admiral.”

  Dean didn’t feel the ship move. From where he lay on the floor he couldn’t see out the small window, but he could see the relief on Harry Hines’s face. The Hannibal was underway now, and there was little anyone could do to stop them. Dean raised an arm to his injured shoulder and felt the torn flesh. It was painful, but he could move his arm; he surmised that the wound had ripped through muscle but hadn’t damaged anything that might hinder him permanently.

  Captain Hines helped Dean to his feet.

  “Good to see you again,” the first officer said. “Looks like you got a promotion.”

  “Yes, promoted just before the entire service went up in flames.”

  “Well, you’re safe enough now. We’ll get your people back to the Kroll ships.”

  “That’s the best news I’ve heard all day,” Dean said, meaning every word.

  Chapter 10

  When Dean looked up, there were people all around, their faces looking down at him. Chavez pushed several people out of his way to reach his fallen commander. Captain Ortega was there as well. Dean expected to see Esma, but she didn’t appear in the press of bodies. With four Recon platoons and over thirty operators, the concourse on the Hannibal was crowded. The airlock was close to the big gravity drive, and as Dean was helped to his feet he saw that the admirals had migrated to the bridge, which was little more than a group of consoles on the far end of the open concou
rse that ran down the center of the escort ship.

  “What the hell happened, sir?” Chavez asked.

  “We were fired upon just as Lieutenant Jefferies and I were boarding,” Dean explained. “Where is he?”

  “The Rhinos have him,” Chavez explained. “I don’t think anything broke through his armor.”

  “Go find out for sure,” Dean said. “I’ll be in my quarters.”

  “You need medical attention, Major,” Captain Ortega said. “We should get you to a med bay.”

  “This ship doesn’t have one. It’s just a flesh wound, at any rate.”

  “We have a medic on our squad. I’ll send him with you if that’s acceptable.”

  “Sure,” Dean said.

  He walked with the Rhino medic to his old cabin, which was still unoccupied. Things were happening fast, and he didn’t have time to worry about the wound on his shoulder. He opened the computing station and sat down.

  “I need to get you out of those fatigues, Major,” the medic said.

  “Cut it off,” Dean said. “Clean it and patch it. Don’t worry about hurting me.”

  “I have sedatives,” the medic offered.

  “No, just stop the bleeding. There’s too much to do.”

  Dean opened the system network and sent a message request to Major Gheridelli. His old mentor’s face appeared on the screen a few moments later. He looked distressed.

  “Dean, you’re alive. Thank god. I suppose you’ve heard about Major Davis.”

  “He was gunned down outside his office,” Dean replied.

  “Pronounced dead just moments ago. Fleet Admiral Cummings was arrested, and Major General Fulton has resigned, effective immediately. The Earth Alone movement is behind this coup. I warned the colonel that calling the entire fleet to one place would give the dissidents a chance to organize. I should have done more.”

  “There’s no time for second-guessing, sir,” Dean said, forgetting that they were now equals in rank. “I need the specifics of the colonel’s battle plan.”