by Justin Sloan
“Piña was a good man,” Hastings said.
Collins nodded slowly.
“You know he had a family once?” Hastings asked.
“No,” Collins said.
“He never talked about that. What happened to them?”
“Piña was strong despite what had happened to his life before the Syndicate. He knew weakness in a link breaks the chain.”
Collins eyes stared into the distance as Hastings’ words sunk in.
“Collins, I need to know what we are up against.” Hastings said calmly, “Now…what did you see?"
"I saw… Piña." Collins said.
“What?" Hastings asked more intensely.
"That phantom thing looked like Piña” Collins said.
Hastings stopped her questioning and a frustrated look blanketed her face.
"Look, I know you struggle in firefights. Hell, you got your tail chopped the first time you stepped up against the Syndicate, but you can't expect me to believe that."
Sanchez walked up behind the two. "Maybe he did see something."
Hastings shot to her feet, presenting her commanding authority over him and the squad. "Listen, Sanchez, I was right next to you in that little firework show that Piña put on. He… bloody hell…he didn't have my go."
"But the fire mist was revealing something to him," Sanchez said, "I thought I saw something, too."
"Not another word. You stay on my watch Captain, and in line. Is that understood?" Hastings asked.
Sanchez instinctively looked back for Piña but instead, only caught a glimpse of Tang's roughcast features. Collins could see in Sanchez's eyes that he missed his best bud—they were like brothers. It was in Collins darkest thoughts that he hoped that Sanchez didn't find camaraderie with Tang later on. Another enemy was the last thing Collins needed right now.
Hastings turned back to Collins, who was now standing, and adjusting his glasses. He saw her weary look again but this time she seemed to be more annoyed.
"I'll take your word for now Collins, but for god's sake," Hastings said as she ripped the eye wear off his face, "get rid of these damn glasses. I don't want that eye obscured. Besides, you look like a fucking safari guide."
Tang’s face held a smug expression.
"Okay, Listen up. We are not alone on this ship. I want you all on full guard. Due to that little light show you guys put on, our suit's power are now lower than when we started. We need power and we need it now. I’m leading us to the core reactor and if any of you have a problem with that then I suggest you hang back with Piña," Hastings said in a no-nonsense way.
Collins looked at Tang with a crooked eye and then at Sanchez standing above Piña 's body. Sanchez, with tears in his heavy eyes, brushed back his thick curly black hair and said his goodbyes while he closed his friend’s eyelids for the last time.
The Core Reactor
COLLINS FELT his suit become more sluggish as the Marine squad made their way down the long corridors of the dead ship. Despite moving slower, and the increased effort, he was on cloud nine following his team. Finally, he was able to show everyone what he was all about—what worth he could bring to the squad.
A series of locked composite doors repeated down the long hallway with small round windows at eye level. Inside, the rooms were empty labs with strange CAT scan-like devices in them. Collins wondered what kinds of strange scientific experiments had been conducted here when the ship was in its prime.
"There are Yao Guai here," Tang repeated emphatically.
"What's a Yao Guai?" Sanchez asked.
"Demons. Strange ghosts from my folklore," Tang said.
"Man, this ship creeps me out," Sanchez said, pulling his stunners closer to his chest.
A smirk blanketed Collins’s face. "Just think, Sanchez, when we fire this baby up, we can explore the far reaches of the galaxy."
"You guys have fun with that. I'm not going anywhere with you idiots," Hastings said with a smile in return.
"Power at twenty-five percent," a mechanized voice said from Commander Hastings suit.
"We need to hurry," Collins said.
The Marines descended farther into the belly of the ship and into a large mint-green, star shaped room. At the center, they saw a huge cylindrical monolith filled with a clear liquid that ported into the floor and ceiling. The base was encumbered with a myriad of wires and controls attached to cranberry panels that were spread throughout the room.
"This is it boys," Hasting said, stopping at one of the panels.
Collins watched her work the controls and push a series of buttons with ease. His auxiliary lights lit up her red hues and the side of her soft features. Collins was lost in his thoughts for a moment. His reverie abruptly came to an end when he spotted an indicator that read 'sleep mode'.
"This thing's just sleeping," Sanchez said.
"How do you know how to work this?" Collins asked.
Hastings stopped her actions and glanced back at Collins with a disgusted look. "Nuclear engineering is not just for men."
Hastings returned to punching the buttons and a reaction started to take place. Bubbles gurgled and wispy striations appeared in the liquid, which began to emanate a bright light.
"It's working," Collins said with a smile.
"What's working?" Sanchez asked.
Collins looked at the group to see blank expressions on their faces. They weren't seeing what he was seeing, which meant only one thing.
"Quick, get back!" Collins yelled.
The group scattered, taking aim and finding what secure cover they could behind control panels of the reactor room.
"What are you seeing, Snipes?" Sanchez yelled at him.
Collins watched the ghostly phantom-like creature swirl out, separating into three individual entities, before phasing through the reactor's composite wall and out into the room. They were distinguishable from each other with faces that were human in form. Collins was mesmerized. He could not look, or get past the fact the faces were strangely familiar.
"They're coming out of the core reactor," Collins yelled back.
"Where the fuck do I fire, One Eye?" Tang asked.
"They’re spreading out. One at my twelve o'clock, then four o'clock and eight o'clock.”
"That's it. I'm not fucking around anymore." Tang said, standing up. The six barrel mini-gun hardly weighed down his broad arms.
"Tang! Get down." Collins shouted a warning.
"Hold your fire! Don't hit the core reactor!" Hastings yelled.
Tang lit up the dark reactor room with his barrage of bullets. Collins watched the hot, red ammo pass right through their auras with ease. What could stun an entity made of pure energy? Collins remembered Sanchez's boasting about his signature weapon.
"Sanchez, hit ‘em with your Stunners!" Collins yelled out.
Sanchez signaled in agreement as he pulled up his bull-nosed stunner and fired aimlessly into the dark. Collins saw him miss the entities that were now moving closer to the marines. Collins adrenaline fired up within him.
"Lower Sanchez! Now at my two o'clock!" Collins yelled out, catching Hastings watching him with a curious intent.
Sanchez fired the rings of energy and hit the closest entity. The energy buckled the movement and caused an irritation on the creature’s face.
"You got it! Keep hammering it!" Collins yelled.
The creatures were barreled by the increased fire Sanchez laid on them. Tang took a sitting position after emptying a full clip. Collins saw the look on his face, the uselessness Collins had experienced himself on the battlefield. It made Collins feel content in some measure.
Hastings scurried over to Sanchez grabbing a stunner from his side. "Collins, what's next?"
"On your ten!” Collins said, pulling his gun and helping with the onslaught.
The next entity took on the fire from both Sanchez and Hastings. Collins watched the creature’s tail coil up like a snake as it was sent flying off in a pain.
"They're f
leeing," Collins said, lowering the weapon and taking a deep breath.
Without a second to lose, Hastings shot up to the control panel of the reactor core. After a few more switches, a red light could be seen to grow brighter within the monolith. Hastings looked at her mech-suit battery indicator that now read seven percent and felt a sense of relief to have made it.
"Let's get out of these clunky suits and find out where the fuck we are," Hastings ordered.
The Barracks
NANO-MESH BUCKLES on the front face of Hasting's suit began to unzip and let in the outside temp several floors up above the core reactor. The Marines made their way along more of the ship’s corridors. The air was cool and crisp. Hastings felt relieved to be in her lighter black undersuit as the armor could sometimes feel heavy and sluggish. The nano-fabric clung tight to her muscular body as she stepped out of the mech confidently onto the soft boot pads.
Hastings had never seen a vessel quite like this, one that was … so featureless. It was almost as if the original design was intended for long distance travel. She looked back at Collins, catching a glimpse of his eye.
"You did good in there Collins."
"Thanks," Collins responded.
Hastings felt a sense of pride seeing Collins respond the way he did in the reactor room. Plenty of times she’d seen recruits lose their shit in the heat of battle but Collins had stepped up and finally owned his keep. She felt better knowing her team was stronger despite being one man down.
"I'll tell you what, One Eye. You try to order me around and I'll knock you on your ass," Tang said.
"Knock it off, Tang. Collins saved your skin. You owe him respect at the very least." Sanchez said.
Tang fell silent.
The Marines approached a narrow foyer that forked into three hallways. Above each hallway had been placed a white makeshift placard indicating directions. They could see that it had originally been printed in some alien undecipherable script but now it was painted over in readable script, 'To barracks’, ‘To Mess Hall’, and ‘To Armory’.
Hastings looked at Collins, Tang and Sanchez, wondering who had painted the sign. The ship's design was plain and too bleak to be useful to them. Perhaps the Syndicate had well-hidden features—something a human couldn't see at the moment. She thought of Collins's eye and how the happenstance of getting wounded could give someone something much greater. She hoped the same went for knowing the origin of this ship.
"Now that the doors are working, let's search out these hallways and reconvene here in thirty minutes. Collins and I got the Barracks. Tang, you got the Armory. Look for any more stunners we can use. Sanchez, you get the Mess hall. Find us some food."
Sanchez couldn't believe what he heard, "Oh, great, so now I’m the Cooky?"
Tang laughed out loud as he and Sanchez split from the group, each one, heading down the hallways they had been allocated. Hastings saw that Collins had a prideful look about him as they walked away, knowing he had her approval.
"Don't get cocky," Hastings said.
"Wouldn't dream of it," Collins said with a smile.
THE BARRACKS WERE DIVIDED into two by a short hallway. One side was decorated with periwinkle blue painted walls contrasting with the canary yellow painted on the other. Hastings led Collins to the windows that opened onto dark rooms lined with a series of bunk beds.
"You take that side and I'll take the other.” Hastings ordered, “Look for anything that can tell us where we are or who this ship belongs to”
“Got it,” Collins said.
Hastings touched the handleless door and immediately it opened with a loud swishing sound. Lights automatically flickered on, starting from the front and extended to the back. Hastings counted around twenty makeshift bunk beds. What species occupied these quarters?
As she made her way down, she couldn't help notice the ships usual smell of burnt metal being masked by a sweeter scent that seemed familiar. She scanned over the neatly made beds one after the other, looking for belongings or any evidence of a crew that had maybe manned the, now, ghostly ship.
The smell became more fragrant. Lavender with hints of vanilla tickled her nose and Hastings was lost in the scent. As a child, long before news of Syndicate invasions on Earth, her family grew lavender within the western Cascade Valley. She was an adventurous and very playful child, and her mother used to always soothe her before bedtime with a few drops of lavender on her pillow. This made Hastings feel warm inside just thinking about it.
A bedside table next to one of the neatly pressed bunks flowed with lace over a purple candle and matches. Hastings pulled the lace off and picked up the candle. Not having smelled lavender since the fighting started, the aroma was delightful. She struck one of the matches, lit the candle and watched the flame waft in the gentle air. In this moment, she filtered memories of her childhood.
She looked at the well-made bed and saw a piece of dingy scotch tape hanging from the underside of the top bunk. As she lowered her head, she found pictures taped to the bunk. Hastings looked closer and couldn't believe her eyes. A picture of her and Collins holding hands, smiling with a distant exuberant galaxy in the background. Just below was another of a young boy with windswept red hair, not older than five years.
Hastings stumbled back in disbelief. What is this? Her hand knocked over the candle onto the bed. She looked around to see if this was a trick. Was the Syndicate testing her?
The flowing lace caught fire and erupted faster than Hastings could react. The Halon Fire suppression immediately showered down from the ceiling and covered the room in mist. Across the room she saw the door starting to close and bolted towards it like the wind.
Alarms rang out and red flashing lights signaled above. Hastings passed the door just as it closed and sealed behind her. She turned and watched the pictures burn up and crinkle in the roaring flame. Was this her future? The Halon jets fired downward, keeping the fire at bay.
Hastings looked for Collins, and then back again. A distortion emanated from the mist—an entity's contours shimmering in the gas. What she had seen before was nothing compared to what was happening now. A human-like face began to form, its features felt familiar to her. Her hand automatically covered her mouth as she gasped in shock, stepping back from the window. It was Collins—or at least his ghost—smiling at her.
A Storm Brews
COLLINS BOLTED toward the ringing alarms. He ran past bunk after bunk, regretting the fact that they’d split up. He knew she was strong and could look after herself, but if something happened to her now, he would feel responsible.
The door swished with a high pitched pressurized sound and he saw Hastings sitting down, head in her hands, sobbing like a young girl. He had never seen Commander Hastings this way—with this much vulnerability. Just above her, he watched the Halon gas extinguishing the flames that were violently eating away on a bunk bed. What happened?
"Sasha, are you all right?" Collins asked, putting his arms around her.
Collins looked into her teary eyes and saw someone different—a person that he somehow recognized, but couldn't explain. She buried her face back into her hands just as Sanchez ran up carrying an armful of canned SPAM.
"What the hell happened?" Sanchez asked.
Tang walked up behind him carrying two large photon guns and a slough of what looked like grenades wrapped around him. Collins eyed him and felt Tang exude a sense of pity on the group.
"Looks like Commander ain't commanding no more," Tang said.
Collins shot to his feet, barely an inch from Tang's face. "Show some respect."
"What happened Commander?" Sanchez asked.
Hastings was reluctant to say anything. She was white as a ghost and shaken beyond belief.
"Was it one of those things?" Sanchez asked.
"Yao Guai," Tang added.
"I saw… Collins," Hastings finally said.
Collins nodded his head and realized Hastings had just seen what he had been seeing the whole time. He c
aught Tang's facial expression and knew the man was annoyed.
"Listen up, Marines. That's what we are, right? There's something wrong with this ship, and I don't believe any of you. How in the fuck did we get here? This is a goddamn demon ship now, and I know your ugly ass eye has something to do with it!" Tang yelled out in a fit of rage.
Collins threw a punch and Tang caught it with ease. In the blink of an eye he had twisted Collins’ arm around and was pushing down on the elbow, putting him into a hold. The pain fired into Collins's head like shotgun.
“Easy, hot head. You hear that? That's your bone crackin’.”
Sanchez dropped the SPAM cans and kicked Tang in the back of the knee. "Quit your shit, Tang."
Tang let go of Collins and looked at Hastings. "You all gone soft. You can believe that you guys are seeing friendly ghosts but I’m telling you it’s demons. I’m gonna' load up the rest of this gear and look for a way out. It's mothafucking war on the Yao Guai."
Tang stormed off and back down the armory hallway. Sanchez looked at Hastings, who now appeared to be a bit more settled. Black streaks were muddied along her cheeks from the mascara she wore. Collins reached over and wiped away the gunk with his black nano-suit sleeve.
“So… what’s the chances of finding escape pods on this ship so we can leave his ass here?” Sanchez asked with a sense of levity.
Collins cracked a half smile, “Sasha, we should head to the ship's main deck and see what we can figure out from the logs. That could tell us where the pods are.”
Hastings nodded with a brief smile as Sanchez and Collins helped her to her feet. Collins didn't mind seeing her this way. He held back the sly usual comment the creep inside him would have liked to say and minded to himself. Hastings needed a moment of rest.
The Dead Logs
THE SMELL of salty canned pork shoulder filled Collins's nose as he trailed behind Sanchez. Sanchez squished the cold meat in his mouth making a repulsive sound, with wheezing air escaping in the violent bites. Hastings’ face held a look of disgust as Collins bypassed both of them to the lead the group.
