The Circuit: The Complete Saga

by Bruno, Rhett C.

  “Just hold tight!”

  Sage didn’t bother to be cautious. The Ceresians were on the defensive, so nobody would expect her to come charging. She headed to the gravitum gravity generator, knowing it would be at the stern of the freighter, in a pressure-sealed chamber across from its reactor core.

  After a short sprint, she could hear the echoes of Chavos battling for the cargo bay. A little further, and a set of stairs led down to the reactor bay, a guard on either side of it. She sent a single bullet through a conduit beside them, and a spray of sparks sent them both tumbling back down the stairs.

  Too easy. I’ll have to let Benjar know.

  Moving swiftly, she knew that there would be no guards down with the reactor. It was Tribunal regulation to avoid any chance of a firefight where a single stray bullet could send the core into a meltdown or cause a gravitum leak.

  She reached an elliptical catwalk suspended around the core and its enclosure of violently rotating blades. Only engineers in hazmat suits filled the floor below, monitoring the reactor, and they wouldn’t hear her over the racket. She hopped over the rail, hanging down until one of the engineers passed beneath her. Then she dropped, knocking him out with a knee to the back of his skull.

  Sage stuck to the shadows, making her way toward the gravity generator room unseen. Then she checked her HUD to make sure her suit was completely sealed. She’d been told that the armor could withstand direct exposure to gravitum and keep her from risking contracting the blue death, but she’d never had to test it before.

  She rose to the airlock’s retinal scanner and keyed her executor override. The plated hatch slowly opened, revealing the pulsating blue of the gravity generator. She stepped in. It was a necessary risk before she lost her only connections on Ceres.

  27

  Chapter Twenty-Seven—Talon

  Talon backed up against the wall outside the freighter’s command deck. “We’re receiving heavy resistance at the command deck!” he yelled over comms. He popped around the corner and took out a Tribunal soldier at the navigations console. “Take out the defense systems! Auto turrets up here have already killed two of us!”

  Four remained in Talon’s unit, including him, Vellish, and two other mercs. They and the Tribunal soldiers inside the command deck were locked in a stalemate. Ceiling turrets along the center of the space were relentless. The chaos had already left half a dozen bodies from both sides lying near the opening. Blood sprayed up from them as they were battered by stray bullets, forming a congealing red mist. Smoke and sparks poured out of the walls to mix with it.

  “Vellish!” Talon shouted across the doorway. “You have any smoke left?”

  “Got one!” he answered, mid returning fire.

  “Toss it to the right side inside the entrance. As soon as it’s live, move in and use the comms consoles for cover.” Talon gauged his destination and let the others do the same. “Okay, everybody ready? Toss it!”

  The cylindrical cannister rolled across the floor. “Fall back!” one of the men inside barked as the device clanked to a halt, thinking it was an explosive. Bang! A flash of light went off, and then a thick veil of smoke began pouring out.

  His ears ringing from the blast, Talon shouted, “Go, go, go!”

  They swept in, firing blindly through the shroud. Talon heard a yelp as the mercenary behind him took a round through the chest. He dove, a bullet glancing harmlessly off the plating on his right bicep, and slammed against a console.

  Sparks spewed over his head as a new turret with a better vantage dropped from the ceiling nearby and unloaded on his position. He scrambled to reel in his legs; then he glanced around to see that Vellish and one other surviving mercenary had also made it.

  “Any progress back there?” Talon asked over the comms. He peeked over the console and took out a soldier before a barrage forced him back down with his hands over his ears. They were pinned down by the firing squad of soldiers with no business being on a shipping freighter.

  He and the others held them back as best they could, but eventually they’d be overrun. “I’m hit!” the other merc with him shouted. Vellish pulled him back into cover. Talon edged around the corner low, lining up a shot before turret fire nearly sawed his hand off. His disease-weakened grip lost its hold on his gun.

  “Vellish,” he said, “we need—”

  The lights throughout the command deck went dark. The chatter of gunfire grew noticeably quieter.

  “Automated defenses deactivated!” Agatha announced over the comm-link. “Hold on up there. I’ll try to give you a gravity lift!”

  The news reinvigorated Talon, who immediately sprang from his cover, shooting to take advantage of the confusion. The others joined him. They pressed forward, turning the tables on the Tribunal survivors and forcing them down to the lower level of the command deck. Their new positions were perilous. Against the backdrop of the ship’s expansive viewport, they were silhouetted against the star field. Easy to spot.

  “Not sure what that means, but anything sounds good right about now,” Talon huffed over comms as he took a soldier out on his way to cover at the navigation console. “We’re pushing through the command deck.”

  Just as he said it, the floor shook. The head of the mercenary beside Vellish blew clean off.

  Talon ducked quickly, looking below the console to see a combat mech stomping into the room. The hulking mass of metal and ordnance tore across the deck with the chain gun on its arm, clipping Vellish’s leg as he scampered for cover.

  “A mech has us pinned down!” Talon screamed. “Shit, it came out of nowhere!”

  “Just hold tight!” Agatha answered.

  Talon looked behind him to see the soldiers at the lower level emerge from cover. He rolled onto his back and emptied his clip at them.

  “Vellish, down there!” he shouted across the room.

  His friend was on the ground, holding a bleeding leg, but was able to turn and fire down at the lower level. Then he crawled and rolled over the ledge. Talon made sure there were none remaining before he went down as well.

  The mech tracked them. Stray bullets slammed into the viewport in tight succession, unable to withstand the heavy rounds as it had pulse-rifle fire. Protective panels slid down as it shattered, but not before Talon’s ears popped and his body was yanked backward by a rush of air.

  Each of the mech’s massive limbs caused the whole room to shudder as it stomped closer to get a vantage over their position. Vellish pulled himself to his feet and sent a few shots into the mech to draw its attention, but his wounded leg gave out and he collapsed.

  Come on, Agatha, Talon thought to himself. He glanced over the ledge at his impending doom, the metal goliath painted in ominous red emergency lights every time the alarms sounded. More soldiers entered the command deck behind it, slowly fanning out so there was nowhere to run.

  How many are on this thing? It was the last time he went on a suicide mission for a clan with so little intelligence. It hadn’t dawned on him until then how desperate this was. Zaimur was poking at the Tribune. Testing them. And Talon was merely the tool to stoke the flame.

  “Talon, are you there?” Agatha’s voice in his ear drew him back to the moment.

  “We’re here.” He coughed. His lungs were filling with smoke, even through his helmet’s ventilators. “Whatever you’re gonna do, do it!”

  He had the sudden urge to close his eyes as the mech drew closer. This wasn’t the way he’d expected to die, though he wasn’t surprised. It’s what bad decisions get you.

  Then, just as the mech aimed over the ledge, ready to put a thousand holes through him, the gravity of the room shifted. Talon felt himself being slowly pulled upward.

  Gravity lift! Talon realized what Agatha meant when she’d said that earlier, and couldn’t help but smirk.

  “Hold on, Vellish!” he yelled, grasping onto the lower level’s grated floor. Vellish did the same and they watched as the mech and the soldiers floated, looking around i
n confusion.

  “System will override in thirty seconds. Hold on!” Agatha said.

  The Tribunal soldiers thrashed around, trying to swim through the air. Talon kept his eye on the mech, and the moment it tapped against the ceiling, the gravity reverted to Earth g. Everyone fell, the mech landing with a loud crash.

  Talon caught his pulse-rifle, rolled over, and quickly turned to fire. The bewildered soldiers dropped in succession as he moved up the stairs. Unable to return to its feet, the mech extended its arm and swung, forcing Talon to sprawl out of the way.

  A thunderous torrent of bullets tore through the equipment above him from the mech’s chain gun. And then, just as he feared the mech was finally going to tear him to pieces, the shooting stopped. He squinted up through the murk.

  Agatha stood atop the mech’s chest, her artificial hand reaching through it and into the cockpit. The whole machine twitched a few times until she ripped her arm out. Its heavy limbs collapsed as the cockpit went dark, the pilot inside slumping in his seat, dead or unconscious.

  Who is this woman?

  “They knew we were coming,” she said, sliding down the mech’s chassis.

  “I know,” Talon wheezed. His eyes widened over Agatha’s handiwork. “You realize you—”

  “Ulson needs to get here now.” Agatha heard one of the fallen soldiers reach for his gun, and shot him in the arm.

  Talon stammered for words as she then ran down to help Vellish up to the command deck’s navigation level. Unable to take his eyes off the mech, Talon transmitted, “Chavos, what’s your status?”

  “We took the cargo bay,” Chavos responded immediately. Talon could hear what sounded like tarps being peeled back through the feed. “But… there’s nothing. It’s all empty. All the gravitum is gone. Fu—” Chavos was cut off by static when the entire freighter rocked to the side, throwing Talon off his feet.

  “Holy shit, Tal!” Ulson spoke somberly over the comm. “The whole cargo bay just went up in flames!”

  Talon used the mech’s leg to prop himself back up, his heart sinking. “The Tribune was ready.” He looked to Agatha. “We expected bolstered defenses, but not like this. Like they knew we’d hit this one.”

  It only seemed to fill Agatha’s face with fervor. “Ulson, I know it’s crazy, but stay on the back of the ship,” she transmitted. “We’re going to come through the cargo bay and float to you.”

  “Only sparks and bodies now,” Ulson replied softly. “You should be able to push through.”

  Talon stared into Agatha’s eyes until she offered a firm nod. He trusted her instincts. Who wouldn’t after watching her take down a mech single-handedly? He threw his arm around Vellish to help, and they headed out as fast as they could.

  “Wait,” Ulson said. “More ships incoming.”

  “Is it the other raiders?” Agatha asked.

  “No. Tribunal! I’ll try to—” Ulson’s voice was lost in the clatter of an explosion; then the line went silent.

  Talon again looked to Agatha for a plan, but her spirit appeared to be sapped as well. Ulson had been shot down. There was no denying it. The Tribune had them trapped, and all they could do was wait.

  28

  Chapter Twenty-Eight—Cassius

  Cassius took a seat on a bench in the aisle positioned under the outstretched bough of a planted tree within Titan’s conduit station. He observed every bit of the centuries-old marvel of Ancients’ engineering. Metal and transparency wove a structure overhead that half-veiled the starry expanse of space.

  His eyes came to rest on a leaf dangling just before his face. He reached out, taking it between his fingers and spinning it slowly so that he could see the many veins along its underside. It twisted under the pressure until the center vein tore through the side and it fell.

  Cassius sighed and glanced up again. The great, arcing concourse was bustling. Soldiers of the New Earth Tribunal were interspersed throughout the crowd of travelers, wanderers, beggars and merchants. A few who recognized Cassius offered him nods of acknowledgment. Most ignored him. A peculiar-looking man with a bulging forehead sat on an adjacent bench, trying too hard not to stare as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t muster the courage.

  Cassius was certainly no Tribune any longer.

  He watched them all, soldiers and civilians alike, studying their ignorant faces, knowing that soon most of them would die. They might all be the unfortunate victims of a coming war. A necessary expense.

  For the greater good, Cassius reminded himself.

  “Cassius Vale,” a Tribunal soldier addressed him. The man came to a stop just in front of Cassius, standing so rigidly at attention it was obvious who he really was. “The last charge has been set,” he said, lowering his voice an octave.

  “Good,” Cassius replied. “My business has been concluded as well.” Cassius snuck a glance over his shoulder at the peculiar man sitting nearby. “Let’s head to the hangar and be done with this place for the last time. Too many prying eyes about.”

  He patted the soldier on the back, his hand slipping through a hologram to fall flat against ADIM’s cold metal chassis.

  They made their way toward the Conduit’s shuttle bay as quickly as possible. Merchants peddled their wares, no bots above a Tribunal colony, but all manner of other luxuries. Cassius had no trouble ignoring them, and the few who got too close were promptly pushed back by a camouflaged ADIM.

  When they reached the entrance of the White Hand’s reserved hangar, the foreman in charge stood tall in the entrance.

  “Was everything to your satisfaction, ex-Tribune Vale?” he asked sincerely, not daring to make eye contact.

  It seems not all their servants have been trained to scorn me, Cassius mused to himself. “The station runs impeccably,” he praised. “Keep up the good work.”

  The foreman fell to a knee and brushed his fingers against the floor in prayer. “Thank you, Your Eminence. We will try.”

  Cassius feigned a smile and walked by him. “Save that for the real Tribunes, boy,” he grumbled as he and ADIM stepped up the ramp of the White Hand.

  Once a loud buzz signaled they were sealed inside, ADIM deactivated his camouflage. They stopped by the Shadow Chariot, parked beside a few crates of extra rations Cassius had purchased earlier.

  “Creator, by the very nature of our purpose here, that engineer, and all others aboard this station, have failed their duties. Why be dishonest with him?” ADIM questioned, the tiny red blips around his eyes spinning rapidly.

  “No reason to break a man’s soul just before his inevitable end,” Cassius said. He signaled the cockpit of the Shadow Chariot to slide open.

  ADIM turned his head to look at Cassius without moving his body. The rotation of his eyes slowed to a crawl. “Per this unit’s calculation of the blast radius from the explosives we planted, everyone in this half of the station will perish, at minimum.”

  “Yes, and now I’ve been made to look upon their faces before I do what I must do, I will feel every death.” Cassius placed his hand on ADIM’s shoulder, his gray eyes narrowing. “And my resolve has never been stronger.”

  “They must be punished for their weakness,” ADIM said before hopping up into the Shadow Chariot.

  Cassius watched him with a proud smile. “I will see you soon, ADIM. I know you don’t need it, but good luck on your end.”

  ADIM’s head snapped toward Cassius, his bright red eyes coming to a complete halt. “Goodbye, Creator.”

  Cassius turned and headed to the command deck, where he took his seat in the captain’s chair. He powered on the White Hand and guided it out of the hangar.

  “Captain, the Shadow Chariot has been deployed for Ennomos,” Gaia announced.

  Cassius didn’t respond. He gazed out the viewport and marveled at the view. The tubular conduit station cast its massive shadow over Titan’s rusty atmosphere, but Saturn lorded over all of it. And just over the edge of its outer rings in the distance, Cassius could make out the web
of city lights strung across the surface of Enceladus. Though smaller than Titan, the moon was the location of the New Earth Tribunal’s primary settlement in the region, where Tribune Nora Gressler called home.

  Letting the White Hand drift in space over the Conduit, the sight of it led Cassius to remember the day he first met her. That fateful day, more than seven years ago…

  ***

  Cassius stood in a long translucent passage between the Tribunal Citadel on Luna and its hangar. He was younger then. But the most noticeable difference, besides fewer gray hairs, was that he wasn’t shrouded by his usual grim veil. There was a lightness to his stride.

  Beyond the craterous landscape of the gray moon, Earth rose. The planet’s blackened atmosphere was hardly anything to look at. Even as sunlight cambered around the top edge like a blade of flame, the world remained dark and gloomy. Rotting.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Tribune Benjar Vakari said, catching up from behind him.

  Cassius was about to respond when a low beep sounded from a pouch on his belt. He reached in and pulled out his custom holorecorder. The spherical device blinked.

  Caleb, he thought, recognizing immediately that the light meant his son was trying to contact him. I shouldn’t ruin the surprise, he decided, ignoring the message. From so nearby to Earth, they would be able to have a live-feed conversation, but that would reveal his position and ruin his surprise visit. As far as Caleb knew, he was millions of miles away on Mars.

  “Do you think the Ancients ever thought that there would be more people living on Luna than the planet it orbits?” Cassius asked his fellow Tribune, placing the device back into his pouch.

  Benjar didn’t answer at first. Cassius turned to face him. The man had a striking woman at his side, her short black hair framing the soft cambers of her neck. Despite her pleasing face, she had the unmistakable demeanor of a soldier and wore the armor of a Tribune’s Hand.