by Greg Dragon
Since the doors of the room came from the ship and used proximity sensors, any fool willing to play with the locking panels could end up exposed when it suddenly opened. Raileo, having proven himself an expert at breaking into locks, could override the automation, tricking the system into thinking that the ship was out of power.
“Ready, Commander,” he said, and placed his palm against the door, glancing over his shoulder to where the rest of the Nighthawks were crouched.
Cilas stepped up into the center of them, leaning into his pulse-rifle as if it were a form of support. Once that door came open, anyone vaguely humanoid would be the first to drop from his deadly, accurate fire. Helga had never been on the receiving end of a breach, but the surprise and death that came with it made survival seem unlikely, so she was glad to once again be on the other end.
“Pop it,” Cilas commanded, and Raileo Lei pulled the heavy door open just a crack. Cilas stepped forward and hopped back, giving his PAS time to record what was inside. Raileo slid it back shut, then backed away with his weapon raised.
“It’s a tunnel, and it’s tight. We would be foolish to take it together at this point,” Cilas said. “Three doors underground, and with no maps to assist. It looks like we’re splitting up.
18
The tunnels of the subterranean compound reminded Helga of the ant farms that a handful of spacers kept inside of their berths. It was a privilege to own pets or any sort of life inside of an overpopulated ship of war, but officers had the credits and approval to do it, since it helped to boost morale. A shaken Marine may not care to fight through a unit to get back to his duties on the ship, but if his fish, plants, or ants needed feeding, he would manifest greatness on the battlefield.
Helga had never felt the need to purchase a nest or bring home a plant, but she did find them alluring, and now she wondered if this was how it felt to be one of those imprisoned insects. What she thought was dirt caked up on the bulkhead turned out to be a strange blend of spores and carapace chunks.
Why is this being used to coat the walls and ceiling? Helga wondered. She knew the spores were for the lizards to breathe, but it didn’t explain the strategically placed sziloc chunks. After stepping through their assigned door, she and Raileo had found themselves inside of what felt like an endless tunnel.
Lights were mounted on the ceiling—more borrowed assets from the wreckage above—and lumber, which hinted that time had been spent to cut down trees to support whatever this was. It was a sturdy, well-built shaft that stretched on into blackness, despite the lights, and Helga became increasingly worried at what they would discover at the end of it all.
“Hey, Helga, how are you and Ray looking over there?” Cilas said over the comms, causing Helga to pull up short and flag down Raileo to tell him to stand guard.
They had been through two rooms already, connected by tunnels lined with more metal from the ship. At odd places Helga noticed there were roots pushing through the walls. She wondered if they were in the szilocs’ old hive, now co-opted by the Geralos.
“We’re good, Rend, but nothing so far. I’m starting to think we missed this party and whatever was here’s long gone.”
“Stay sharp, you never know. Remember, make some noise if you see anything.”
“Contact,” came Quentin’s shout over open comms, and as Helga prepared herself mentally for whatever it was that was coming, she and Raileo exchanged looks of concern.
“Target neutralized,” came another voice, this time from Sundown, who spoke as evenly as if he was informing them about a change in temperature.
One day I’ll attain that level of calm, Helga thought, frustrated with the anxiety she felt, waiting to be overrun inside of this tunnel. What was Cilas thinking splitting us up? Does he really have this much confidence in our abilities, or does he know something else that he hasn’t divulged?
“Good kill,” said Quentin. “But what in the worlds is it?”
“Were you discovered?” Cilas said, cutting him off, though Quentin’s question made Helga wonder if the target Sundown killed was something other than a Geralos.
“We’re still dark, Commander, though I think we need to discuss what we’re up against now,” Quentin said. “Hold for visual,” and the comms went silent as he worked at sharing his helmet’s feed so that the rest of the Nighthawks could see the corpse.
When the image came through on Helga’s HUD, she gasped in horror at what she saw. On the ground, bleeding out, was a being that at first glance appeared to be human. But when Quentin knelt close to show them more, she saw that the dead man did not have a nose or lips, and its small, open mouth revealed long teeth, pointed and jagged just like the Geralos.
“I’m sorry, Q, but what are we looking at here?” Cilas said. “Is that what happens when we breed with lizards?”
It was the question Helga had been asking herself as she surveyed the footage coming from Quentin’s helmet. Being the product of an interspecies coupling herself, Helga had always wondered if it was possible.
The very thought of it shook her to the core, with both repulsion and rage. It was supposed to be impossible, considering the differences in physiology and genetic makeup.
Genesians, Meluvians, and Virulians were branches on the same human tree that birthed Vestalians, so it was natural for those species to mix. Casanians, Traxians, and possibly the Louine were humanoid, and shared many of the same genetics. Louine genes were the exception; they were practically supreme, and so a mixed-species child would be born with no trace of the non-Louine parent.
Helga’s existence was not only proof that Casanians and humans were compatible, but that the offspring could inherit the seeker-gene, which many still believed was exclusive to Vestalian women.
Geralos, out of all of Anstractor’s races, was a unique species with no evidence of having shared an ancestry. They were deemed monsters, and the ultimate parasite, coming from a smaller planet with the sole goal of conquering and eating everyone else. At least that’s what spacers like Helga had been raised to believe, and seeing this abomination lifeless on the floor made her wonder again at their history.
The sight of it sickened her, but not enough to look away. Was it a product of love? Could a Vestalian be so far removed from her pride to lay down with something as dangerous and vile as a Geralos lizard? And what were those veins, which spoke of pain, and something else cruel?
“I believe that what we’re seeing is a fusion of sorts,” Sundown said. He was kneeling over the corpse now, going through its pockets for anything informational, while stripping its body to reveal more of its features to the Nighthawks. When it was completely naked, it was even more horrific. The genitals were that of a human male, grossly malformed, assuring more nightmares in the future for the young lieutenant.
All about its abdomen were raised lines, like badly healed incisions, and when they began to writhe, Helga was pushed past her limit and broke.
“Maker’s sake, thype this, Cilas. We are not equipped or trained to deal with bio-engineered monsters full of parasites. I am literally shaking right now, and… and…” She closed her eyes and breathed, hoping that Raileo hadn’t noticed her reaction. She had muted her comms when she spoke her truth, though no one would have heard her, she had to say it.
What are we doing here? she thought again, staring up at the roof of the tunnel. We were excited to come kill Geralos, the true enemy of the Alliance, and now we have this.
“Everything good, ma’am?” Raileo said, causing her to flinch.
“Yeah, I was just checking above us to be sure that we hadn’t missed anything,” she lied, but it didn’t help that her voice had cracked. “Alright, look, Ray, that thing they killed. This is all new and I am really just trying to process this schtill. I don’t need help or concern, I just need time to think. We need to prepare ourselves for more surprises inside of this pit.”
“Will we ever prepared though?” Raileo said. “Seems to me that this is exactly why they sent
us in. We’re reconnaissance, the eyes of the Alliance. An Alliance that is just learning that our own Vestalians have been selling out our people for the lizards to create weapons like him. Can you imagine the response on Rendron if they learned about this hybrid?”
“Oh, I can imagine. I’m half-Casanian, and though both my parents came from allied planets, the xenophobia and distrust was already a problem. Something like this gets out there to the ignorant spacers on our starships, and the Geralos won’t have to do anything; the crew would implode and wipe itself out.”
“I don’t believe that for a second,” Raileo said, turning to face her. “Most spacers I grew up with were like me, Tutt, and the commander. It’s us, as in the entire galaxy, against them, the Geralos lizards. That exclusive human rhetoric comes from the bored, deck-scrubbing losers, grounded forever on our ships. I am confident that most of us want the same thing: Vestalia returned to the Vestalians, and Geral reduced to the galaxy’s biggest asteroid field.”
“Look at you, all grown up, Laser Ray,” Helga said before reaching forward to place a hand on his shoulder. “We should get going. If either of the other teams gets discovered, this narrow tunnel of doom is not where I want to be.”
“Maker,” Cilas suddenly whispered, bringing their attention back to the comms.
“You good, Commander?” Raileo said.
“Still kicking, Chief, but I’m about as far as I dare go. Nighthawks, I found something. The door that I took led me to a short passageway, lifted from the ship. There’s now a reinforced door, with a tiny glass window like the ones that lead into the Ursula’s mess. I’m about to share my visual. Helga, you will recognize what this is immediately,” Cilas said.
A small prompt appeared at the corner of Helga’s vision, and when she accepted the uplink, it expanded until she was seeing everything that Cilas was seeing at that moment. In front of her was some dirty, cloudy glass, but beyond it she could see a line of human bodies, standing with their backs to the wall and their hands above their heads.
Helga knew what it was immediately. She and Cilas once hung from hooks in a Geralos prison just like this. Inside that room, the temperature would be freezing, and there would be a chemical in the air that would instantly put them to sleep if they inhaled it.
She saw now that aside from the mutant Geralos that Sundown had killed, this underground facility was a Vestalian processing camp, very much like the one they had escaped two years before on Dyn.
Cilas was still talking them through it, but Helga didn’t need to listen. She had been here, and knew what was to come for the poor souls trapped inside that room. She began to count them, guessing that the room would be a square, and with every centimeter holding a captive, there would be more than 120 prisoners.
“Looks like we’re going to need to call in help to get these people out,” she said.
“That shouldn’t be a problem once we clear this whole place of the thypes that did this,” Raileo added, bitterly.
“I’m going back to the first room to wait,” Cilas said. “It’s going to take all of our manpower, if we’re to get them out. Finish mapping out your areas and stay up on comms. Evaluate the situation before charging any rooms, and above all else, Nighthawks, remain in the shadows. If you hit a wall or dead-end, head back and join me, and together we can rescue the civilians. Helga, how are you and Ray looking?”
“Cruising, with no sign of the enemy, so far,” Helga said. “Though to be honest, Rend, we’re still making our way. This has to be the longest tunnel in the known galaxy. I could swear we’ve been on it forever.”
“Stay sharp, you never know. Look out for hidden doors, decoys, and emergency escape holes above you. I don’t know how they’re keeping the szilocs from burrowing into here, but if it was that field generator we blew, it is only a matter of time. Remember, alert us if you run into anything. Don’t play at hero; this is an order.”
“You have my word,” Helga said, embarrassed by what sounded like a little too much concern for her well-being. She felt good hearing it, but if she didn’t know him it would come off as patronizing.
“This facility and everything about it puts my nerves on edge,” Sundown whispered.
“It should,” Cilas said. “This is what they took our planet for. To set up all sorts of evil like this. They have the gall to have one here, in what is supposed to be neutral space. Listen to me, Nighthawks, we absolutely cannot afford to be taken hostage down here. It is crucial to this mission—no, this war—that we get our footage of this facility back to Alliance HQ. We fail and this continues for maker knows how many more years.”
“What are they doing to them inside that room?” Raileo asked Helga on direct comms.
“They are either dead or frozen in a kind of stasis that shuts down their local consciousness. You just fall asleep and have lengthy dreams. It’s like you take a trip to another dimension, knowing that it isn’t real but incapable of getting out, no matter how hard you try.”
“How did you get out?” Raileo said.
“That’s a question for Cilas,” Helga replied. “He rescued another Nighthawk and me. As to how he managed to do that? Your guess is about as good as mine.”
Once they could see the end of the tunnel, she and Raileo quickened their pace. Knowing that Cilas was waiting on them lit a fire beneath them that was necessary; not because they feared his reprimand, but because of the danger to his life.
They came upon another door at the end of the tunnel, and when Raileo glanced back at her, Helga gave him the go-ahead to pull it open. There was movement, and in the span of a second, she saw two suited figures turn towards them.
Helga’s auto-rifle was already chattering, perforating the vulnerable breastplate of one of these men, turning his internal fluids into ice. Raileo slid down to a knee, angling backward to evade the retaliation. One shot from his pistol was all it took, and the second figure toppled over, dead before he could react.
The two Nighthawks quickly secured the room, peering under the two rows of benches, and in the corners behind a line of hanging EVA suits.
They were inside of what appeared to be a changing room, judging by the discarded bits of gear. The light was low, but bright compared to the tunnel, and when Helga finally surveyed the corpses, she was relieved to find that they were Geralos.
“Think we’re clear,” Raileo said, sounding out of breath, then walked over to the far door and stood guard as Helga made the call to update Cilas.
“Commander, Ray and I found some sort of changing room occupied by two lizards—now neutralized—and too messy to cover up. They looked to have been making their way out.”
“They must have seen or heard the szilocs somehow,” Cilas said, whispering a curse. “Thype it, I didn’t expect things to stay quiet this long anyway. Search that room and press on, Helga. See if you can find anything that would give us an idea of the layout of this place. Ray, there’s bound to be more contacts, so be on your game. Let Helga worry about the discovery.”
“Got it, commander,” Raileo said, and he crossed the room to the far door, where he stood with his rifle raised, ready to give the next intruder a cold surprise.
“Copy that, Rend, we’ll see what we can find. How are Tutt and Sunny doing?” Helga said.
“They’ve been quiet since that last call to show us the mutant. Switching off comms now. Just keep me posted on any surprises, alright?”
“I’ll be diligent, Commander,” Helga said, then marched over to the wall and began searching the suits and other equipment that were stored inside. She was surprised to find that many of these were Alliance-issued, which hinted at spacers being nabbed and traded to the Geralos by the pirates.
The longer she looked, the more it angered her, and by the time she was finished she had vowed that every pirate she met after this day would meet the Ursula’s airlock or her sidearm.
“Nothing here but old junk,” she said. “I’m starting to think that this isn’t a changing room
, after all. This appears to be where the lizards discard the suits of the Vestalians they bring in here.”
“That doesn’t make sense, Lieutenant,” Raileo said. “The numbers don’t match; there had to be a hundred people in there.”
“Let’s keep moving, the answer will come,” Helga said. She had to admit that Raileo was right. Perhaps there would be another storage like this one on the far side, where Quentin and Sundown were stalking.
Helga got on one side of the door and Raileo the other, with one hand on the panel, ready to trigger the release. In his other hand was a hand cannon that she hadn’t noticed him holding before.
It was a spectacular weapon, intimidating and alien. It had to have come from A’wfa Terracydes, black and bulky, with the fattest barrel wrapped in aqua lights.
She raised her auto-rifle up to her shoulder and took a breath to prepare for any surprises.
“Punch that schtill, Ray,” she commanded, and he slammed his fist into the panel. The door slid open with a hiss, and Helga depressed the trigger, just a hair, as she chanced a glance.
Inside was a much bigger room, with troughs lined up in rows, each holding a variety of vegetation. Unlike the dark tunnel they had come through, or the low light of the one they were in, this underground garden was as bright as day. The ceiling glowed with blindingly bright light, coming from tubes crisscrossed above it all.
“Is that a bench?” Helga said.
“The lizards built a park down here?” Raileo said, and he pointed to where there was a table, chairs, and what looked to be an algae-conversion unit. “Wait, Ate, my PAS is saying that there’s oxygen in here, and I don’t see any trace of the surface’s poison. If we wanted to, we could remove our masks.”
“Which means that they built this space for humans!”
